Memories of Brooklyn
by Brown-Eyed Girl 75
Summary: It's not how it begins or ends, it's what happens in between. FLACK/OC NO DL It's a literary choice folks! COMPLETED AS IS
1. I miss my friend

**Welcome to everyone! This is an in depth look into the relationship between my OC Detective Samantha Ross (Adam's sister) and the members of the CSI:NY team. Especially Flack. I gave a sneak peek into things with Dedicated to Peter and some people asked for another more detailed story to follow up.**

**I do not own CSI:NY or any of the characters. The only people I own are those you do not recognize. I tend to be fluffy and angsty with a few other emotions thrown into the mix.**

**I hope you enjoy it. Please be kind and review!**

**Merci.**

PROLOUGE: I MISS MY FRIEND

"I miss the look of surrender in your eyes.

The way your soft brown hair would fall.

I miss the power of your kiss when we made love.

But baby most of all...

I miss my friend.

The one my heart and soul confided in.

The one I felt the safest with,

the one who knew just what to say to make me laugh again

and let the light back in.

I miss my friend."

-Darryl Worley

The mid afternoon May sky was grey and dull. A steady rain had been falling for two days. Stripping the trees of any remaining leaves and flooding gutters and eaves troughs and overflowing storm drains. The chilly, damp air hung over the city like a heavy curtain. Forecasts showed no signs of relief for at least a few days. Another four days of misery. For some it would be even longer than that.

A male figure sat across the street from a modest four bedroom house in Flushing, Queens. The driver's side window down on the SUV he was behind the wheel of. A female, hood of a yellow rain poncho over her head, leaned in close to talk.

"How long has he been out here for?" Danny Messer asked, his voice quiet as he observed the solitary figure sitting on the front porch, staring blankly out at the rain, millions of thoughts and memories running through his troubled mind.

"Couple hours." Stella Bonsasera-Taylor answered, casting a glance over her shoulder and sighing heavily. "I keep trying to get him to come inside and at least eat something. He hasn't eaten in two days. He hasn't done much of anything for two days for that matter. He won't talk. To anyone. I'm lucky if I get two words out of him."

"You're a good friend, Stel. Bein' here with him since..." Danny's voice trailed off . A lump formed in his throat. Tears pooled in his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say the words. Because when you said them, it made everything so real. And this couldn't be real. It just couldn't. He could not accept the news he'd been given during that late night phone call two days ago that sent him driving almost non stop from Atlanta. He realize he should have flown. He would have gotten there quicker. But he was compelled to just get in the car and drive. That way he was alone. There was no one around to interrupt his thoughts or disturb his grief or see the tears that poured down his face.

Stella went around the front of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Where's the kids?" Danny asked, fiddling absentmindedly with the heating system.

"Adam and Gus and took them."

Danny nodded. "Do they know?"

"They know..." Stella sighed. "that mommy isn't coming back. Whether or not they fully understand why..." she shrugged.

"Thank god they're still young enough to not ask for details," Danny said. "How did this happen, Stel? How?"

"It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. We never should have... I never should have let her go in there alone. I should have called for back up and told her to stay where she was. I should have done a better job at protecting her. When Mac ran the lab, he always made a point of protecting his people."

"This wasn't your fault," Danny assured her. He looked out the window at the figure on the porch. "I shouldn't have gone with Erica on that business trip. I shoulda just stayed here. She didn't need me there. She just wanted us to have some time alone. I should have been here. For him."

"You didn't know something like this would have happened."

"But he's always been there for me, Stell. Always. He's always had my back, you know. Way back when over that Minhouse shooting and the incident in the warehouse that day and even when Rikki Sandoval stole my gun. Remember her? Mom of that little boy Rueben that got shot? The one that I took to the blessing of the bikes and there was a shooting at a bodega."

"I remember." she said.

"He was right there getting me out of some serious shit. There time and time again. Never expecting anything in return. And the one time he does need me, I'm thousands of miles away."

"You're here now." Stella pointed out. "You got here. For him. For her. And that's all that matters."

"What about the funeral? Stuff like that?"

"Once the autopsy is down and the body is released..." Stella's voice wavered. It broke her heart to talk about her friend like just another D.B. lying on the ME's cold slab. Someone that had been like a sister to her. "Once the body is released to Flack, then he's probably going to have a couple of visitations and a private funeral. Maybe just him and the kids and all the team. He doesn't want a big, NYPD thing. And you know Sam, she wouldn't want to go out like that."

"Naw. She wouldn't. Always liked the spotlight on someone else. Its what made her a great cop."

"And an even better friend." Stella said.

"Whose doin' the autopsy?"

"I had to call someone in from Jersey. None of our MEs wanted to do it. Hits too close to home. She's going to be missed by a lot of people."

"Absolutely." Danny agreed and sighed heavily and removed his glasses and wiped his burning eyes with the front of his sweatshirt. He glanced towards the house. "I'm gonna go and see if he'll talk."

"I'll wait here." Stella said. "I need some time. Process everything."

"Take all the time you need." Danny told her and climbed out of the Suv and sprinted across the rain slicked street. He was nervous as he stepped up onto the curb. Unsure of what to expect. What the reaction to his arrival would be. And unsure of what he should say or even do first. Took in his friend's swollen red eyes and his unshaven face and wrinkled clothes. The way he stared down at the wedding ring on his left hand and twirled it around his finger over and over again. "Hey," Danny said simply.

Blue eyes looked up and fixed on him. In all the years that they've known each other, Danny had never seen those eyes look that way. He'd never seen that depth of pain and suffering in them. The insurmountable loss and devastation. No words were exchanged between them. A friendship that great, none really had to be. A lot of emotion expressed just in the way they looked at each other.

"How ya doin'?" Danny asked gently, taking a seat beside him.

Flack shrugged. Picked up a bottle of beer behind him and took a swig.

"How many you had in the last two days?" Danny asked curiously, knowing his friend's propensity to drown himself in booze when he need to rid himself of some stress and pain until he could barely stay on his own two feet. And that wasn't what Flack needed right now. A nasty hang over to go with all his other suffering.

"Not enough to shut my brain off." Flack replied. "And I need it to shut off."

"You don't want that." Danny assured him. "It isn't going to solve anything."

"Maybe not. But it would make the ache in my heart go away. Get rid of the emptiness for a little while."

"I got here as soon as I could. Left when I got the call. Woulda flown but I just got in the car and drove and..."

"Danny..." Flack cut him off quietly. "It's okay."

Danny nodded. "I'm sorry, Flack," his voice was barely a whisper. "I'm so sorry..."

"So am I." he said. "And I really don't want to talk about... her... right now."

"What do you want to do?"

"I just want you to sit with me and let me think. Not talk. 'Cause when I talk about her..." his voice cracked and he struggled to keep himself composed. "When I talk about her it makes it real and I don't want it to be real. If I just think, then it holds out hope that in a few minutes, her car's gonna pull into the drive way or she'll call me and say she's on her way. And right now I need to hold onto that. Because I miss her and I can't accept that she isn't coming back. She's always come home. 'Cause I don't know where I'm going to go from here. How I'm going to go on without her. And if I keep thinking that she's gonna come home soon..." he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Pretty fucked up, huh? Not being able to talk about your own wife?"

"Deal with it whatever way you have to, Flack. But I'm here when you want to talk. I'll even camp out on the couch if the need arises at three in the mornin'. I'm here and I ain't leaving ya. Time to pay you back for all the times you've been there for me, put your ass and your career and your family on the line."

" I just wanna keep myself sane, Dan-o. And I feel a long way from sane right now. I just..." he frantically wiped away tears with the back of his hand. "I need some time. To think. Go back on things. Remember stuff. Good stuff."

"All right. Fair enough." Danny said and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Flack sniffled noisily and reached into a two four of beer on the stair in front of them and handed his friend a bottle.

"How about we both sit here and think?" Danny asked, twisting off the cap and taking a long sip.

"Sounds good to me." Flack replied.

And that's what they did. Sat and thought about Brooklyn.

**Aphina: I hope it wasn't too sob worthy for you!**

**Maddison Bellows: I hope you'll like this story as much as DTP.**

**Eddiesgirl: Thanks for reading. I hope you like this one too.**

**All the others: Please please please review.**


	2. If Mac's impressed

**I do not own CSI:NY or any of the characters you recognize. For my own use, I take the liberty to assume Adam was originally from Brooklyn but moved away at a young age. It just makes this make more sense.**

**This takes place season four, post Playing with Matches**

**Enjoy. Review. Have fun.**

**Chapter One:**

**If Mac's impressed, then this girl must be something**

It was a big day at the New York City crime lab. Anticipation and excitement hung in the air like a house full of little ones on Christmas Eve. For two weeks, since that announcement went up through inter-office e-mail and via sign posted the staff break room, all the talk had been about the new girl. From the basement to the trace lab to the detectives over at the 12th precinct, speculation and rumour had run rampant. What would she look like? What experience did she have? What was she going to be like to work with? It didn't help that Mac kept his lips clamped tighter than Fort Knox, only revealing that the new detective CSI was a female. He offered no further information and deflected all curious questions. He did however, offer up one little morsel to the masses: she was a New York City girl. Originally from Brooklyn.

"She's gonna be like Aiden!" Danny had enthused excitedly, practically bouncing on his heels and unable to contain a twinkle in his eyes. He missed Aiden. Personally and professionally,and he hadn't been the same since she died. He didn't laugh nearly as much or smile or crack jokes as often as he used to. Losing his little friend Rueben had really done a number on him as well, and he'd been looking for something, anything, to bring him out of the funk he'd found himself in. He was excited at the prospect of working with someone knew. Male or female. And the revelation that she was from Brooklyn had put him on cloud nine. Because it was something that reminded him of Aiden and brought her a little closer.

"You know what this really means, don't you." Lindsay said snottily over her iced cappucino. "The entire lab is going to be thrown off. Its going to be too distracting having a new person around. All the focus will be on her instead of the work."

"You were the new girl once, too." Danny reminded her pointedly. "And no one got all bent out of shape over it."

"All I'm saying is don't get your hopes up. I hate to see ya get let down. Just 'cause she's from the same borough as Aiden, doesn't make her Aiden." Lindsay was insanely jealous that a strange woman he'd never met had put a genuine smile on Danny's face and put a spring in his step. Something she hadn't been able to do in months.

"Hey, if she's from Brooklyn, its gonna be all good." Danny vowed, and to spare himself any more jealous Lindsay diatribes, put the ear phone to his I-Pod in his ears and turned the volume up as far as it could go.

Hawkes, in his usual quiet, professional manner, hoped and prayed that whoever Mac had hired, had some sense of what working in a a crime lab was all about. He'd been excessively overwhelmed his entire first year on the job and didn't want someone else feeling the same strain. He was determined to give whatever help, support and knowledge he could to make the New York Crime lab experience a positive one for the new girl. And who knows? he thought, as he printed off a lab report in the bull pen. Maybe she's even cute.

Stella had been a little skeptical to say the least. When Mac had been given the go ahead to hire a new body, that Brass had said the budget could take it, she had been hoping to have some say in who he picked from the possible candidates. Mac had always sought out and valued her opinion before. So when he passed her a copy of the girl's resume and announced he'd gone ahead and tossed out any others and hired her after a brief telephone call to Phoenix, Stella had wondered if just maybe Mac had lost it just a little bit. Rash decisions were totally unlike Mac. She hoped he didn't regret it.

"She has a masters degree in forensics and a b.a. in criminal profiling." Mac said excitedly. And Mac never got excited. "From an Ivy league school, Stella. Two years in the Phoenix crime lab. Two prior with K-9 and ESU. She's a qualified and respected expert in ballistics and explosives. What is there not to be excited about. Someone like this," he held up the resume. "comes along few and far between and I'm not missing that boat."

No one had ever seen hm so outwardly and visibly impressed.

In the trace lab, Adam seemed more jovial than usual. And that was nearly impossible for someone as bubbly, warm and insanely funny as Adam. Danny had asked him what the hell he was so excited about. Not like he'd really benefit from a new CSI. If anything, a new body meant more work thrown in the lab tech's already over burdened lap. Adam just smiled. A sly, you don't know what I know smile and went about his business. Downstairs, Sid was intrigued. It was always nice to meet new faces. And judging by the impression this young lady had already made on Mac, Sid was all the more curious about what this new face brought to the table. Pino, all he could think about was that a new female face -hopefully a pretty one- meant one new ocean waiting to be conquered. He wondered if she liked Porches.

At the twelfth precinct, bets were being taken by the detectives that worked hand in hand with the crime lab at which one of them would get the first crack at the new girl. Flack had 10-1 favorites but steadfastly refused to put any of his own money down. For all he knew, the new girl could be another Lindsay. All up on herself for no reason. All me, me, me drama queen. That he didn't need. And besides, after the disaster that was Devon, he wasn't exactly looking for a repeat. And seriously, how the guys know she'd even be remotely attractive. She could have been the Bride of Chucky on a good day. Nope. Flack wanted no part of that. Unless she turned out to be insanely beautiful and crazy intelligent. The woman of his dreams. Yeah, right, he thought as he headed for his squad car, on his way to the crime lab for Mac's little meet and greet the new girl. Mac had never done that before. Flack wondered what had gotten into the former Marine. The woman of my dreams does not exist, he thought forlornly as he started up the ignition and pulled into traffic. It ain't ever gonna happen. I'm going to die miserable and alone. A woman like that does not exist in New York. In the free world for that matter. So keep dreaming, Flack.

At the end of all the wondering and all the speculation, one thing was for certain. Whatever she looked like or however she acted or whatever she knew, Mac Taylor had a badge and nine millimeter Glock in his desk with her name on it.


	3. Checking out the view and

**I only own what you don't recognize.**

**Although I wish I owned some of Stella's wardrobe. And if Flack was mine, I'd...never mind. That's a whole other, M rated story.**

**Checking out the view and liking what you see**

"You love this town

even if that doesn't ring true

you've been all over

and its been all over you."

-U2 "Beautiful Day."

Please don't see me Bono. The price of one pair of your sunglasses could feed a family of five for a month.

She stopped in the middle of he sidewalk, and using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, glanced up at the looming tower of glass and concrete above her. 3553 Broadway, mid-town Manhattan. A long way from the ancient, red brick monstrosity the city of Phoenix had the nerve to call a crime lab. Two years there had been enough. The Phoenix department wanted wanted results and case closures but didn't want to hire enough staff or provide the ones already there with the proper equipment to get the job done accurately and efficiently. And being the only woman there hadn't been a picnic. She'd been subjected to more sexist comments about it being a man's world and get back into the chicken and raise some kids and had been called a bitch and a whore and a whole lot worse so often that the words rolled off of her like water. She had perps that took one look at her small frame and girl net door looks and immediately underestimated her. Getting your ass kicked and your smart mouth brought back down to size by someone like her did wonders for deflating the ego. And she'd had one two many supervisor put their hands on her ass and suggest drinks after work and call her baby and sweetheart to last her a lifetime. A slap across the face and a fuck you and a phone call to the wife got your farther than filing a sexual harassment complaint with IAB.

She was feisty and tenacious and proud of it. She refused to let anyone push her around. A childhood of physical and emotional abuse, living in the projects of Brooklyn had made her fearless to a fault. But she was no victim. She would not allow her name and that word to be in the same sentence. Because all the pain and torment had made her stronger than she ever thought possible. She was a survivor. She refused to be anything but. She'd steadfastly maintain her independence and self respect and control until the day she was no longer able to do so. And no one, man or woman or the old boys' club that was the NYPD would change that. She'd heard horror stories that the department was notorious for looking down on female officers. The old adage that women couldn't do the job even half as good a a man was alive and well among the boys in blue. She knew the type. They waited until the woman made even the smallest mistake and then pointed fingers and laughed and gloated that they were right. That the woman had screwed up because she was just that. A woman. didn't matter if a male counterpart screwed up just as bad or worse. All was nearly forgiven then. But the woman would go through the rest of her career waiting for the other shoe to drop and looking over her shoulder. And if anyone thought they'd lump Samantha Ross into that category, they had another thing coming. She'd politely - or maybe not- tell them where to go and give detailed directions on how to get there and even pack their bags and hold their hand all the way if they needed her to. In the end, she'd get the last laugh and come out on top. She'd survive.

She checked her watch. Quarter after two. Detective Taylor had told her to be at his office at a quarter to three. The trip on the subway from her brother's apartment in Queens, where she take over his bedroom while he rode the couch since she arrived two days ago, had taken less time than she expected. The subway service had definitely improved since the last time she'd been in the city sixteen years ago. A lot had changed in sixteen years. Especially the landscape of the city. To stand on one side of the Hudson and look over into Manhattan and not see the enormous towers once known as the World Trade Centre, had been a heart shattering moment only someone from New York City would understand. To watch the carnage on t.v. had been terrible enough. But to stand there and see how much your home at changed? There were no words. So she'd stood there in the sunset and said a little prayer for all the innocent lives lost and tossed a single white rose into the Hudson in memory of fellow officers, and then she walked away feeling a little lost and a whole lot alone. But it wasn't all feelings of sadness. She still enjoyed the hustle and bustle on the sidewalks and the mingled smells of food in the air from a wide array of street vendors and the little dreams of an easier life that trickled through her when she peered into the front window of Tiffany's or Prada. It would never happen on a city salary but she longed for a day she could walk into Jimmy Choo and drop a grand on a pair of shoes. For now, until he dollar made good and won her the lottery, she'd stick to Bloomingdales and Macy's. It was good for the soul to dream. She was a dreamer. Dreaming never hurt anyone.

She bought a bottle of water at a vendor and sat at one of the cement benches to the left of 3553 Broadway's front door. Too early made her look too green and eager. She was a confident, professional woman and she was anything if not prompt. She'd been there fifteen minutes before and no sooner and no later. Give the right impression. A I'm glad to be here but I've been here before and I know what I'm doing so let's get to it. The brief interview with Detective Taylor - Mac, he kept correcting her when she called him that- had told her that this was a man who meant business. He ran a tight ship and valued respect and integrity and treated his team with such. She'd heard he was one of the best. If not the best. And when that job posting was available, she had jumped on it. A chance to go home. Start fresh. Make a new name for herself. And as she sat there in the sunlight, bottle of water to her lips and eyes watching the passing crowd, she was filled with a childlike sense of excitement and anticipation. This would be her time. She could feel it. She liked the view already.

Flack noticed her as soon as he climbed out of his car. It was hard not to. The way the sunlight danced off of the auburn highlights in the chestnut hair that was pulled back into a high ponytail, the end of it reached the middle of her back. Closer he got he saw that there was more to her than just beautiful hair. Pale, flawless complexion, golden eyes framed by impossibly long, dark lashes, a tiny freckle splattered nose and full, pale pink lips. Dressed conservatively in a pair of khaki pants and a coffee colored cap sleeve top that hugged all the curves that were in all the right places. Probably a bitch he thought. No one that looked like that could be anything but. A dumb bitch, more than likely. The job had long ago turned him into a pessimist. He was tired of the dumb ones. At his age, he was looking for someone with style and substance. Class. A smart, decent head on her shoulders. He knew he shouldn't rush to judgement, make assumptions, but no woman like the one sitting on that bench would have those qualities. It was damn near a rule. But it didn't stop him from checking her out long and hard as he made his way to the front door. He was a guy after all.

"Flack! Take a picture, it lasts longer!" Danny called as he arrived from the opposite direction, carrying two trays of take out coffee and a plastc bag of junk food.

'"You're an obnoxious fuck, Messer." Flack informed him. And by the expression on the young woman's face as she heard the comment and had been well aware he'd been checking her out, she thought both of them were obnoxious. She shook her head and looked down the street to avoid looking at them.

Kinda cute, she thought. Both of them. So completely different from each other. One of them small yet nicely built with spiky blond hair and glasses behind which were striking blue eyes. Filling out his jeans and t-shirt quite nicely. The other one tall and powerfully built with extremely short dark hair sporting some grey and honestly the most gorgeous blue eyes she'd ever seen. Sporting a well tailored black suit and crisp white dress shirt and a black, red and grey patterned tie. She bet he smelled nice. But the badges and guns pinned them as cops and she'd had enough of cops. She was not going down that road again.

"How you doin'?" Danny asked, nodding at her and smiling.

She trained those golden eyes on him. "Me?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah... you..."

"You're joking, right? That line actually still works? I'm sure you're a really nice guy and all, but seriously. This isn't an episode of Friends and I'm not Jennifer Aniston and you're not Matt Leblanc."

Flack smirked. Definately a bitch. A hot one, mind you.

Danny remained unfazed. "You're from Brooklyn," he said, noticing her accent.

"Wow. Your powers of observation are amazing." she said and stood up.

Curves in all the right places, Flack thought a second time as she turned to throw the empty bottle in the trash.

"Let me guess," she hiked her purse up onto her shoulder. "Good cop," she nodded at Danny. "Bad cop." she nodded at Flack.

"That obvious?" Danny asked.

"Well, the badges to give it away," she replied. "and no offense, but if I was a perp in an interrogation, I'd be more scared of him," she gestured to Flack. "then I would be of you. But that's just me. So if you two lovely gentlemen," she smiled at Flack as she said gentlemen. "would excuse me, I have an appointment to keep." she headed for the door.

"Here?" Flack asked, as the realization began to sink in who they were dealing with. The way she used the term good cop, bad cop and the word perp. This wasn't just some girl off the street.

She nodded. "With Mac Taylor. Do you know him?" she was speaking directly to Flack.

"Know him?" Danny was trying his best to make in impression on her. "We work for him. Hey, wait a sec... are you the new CSI?"

"Nothing gets by you." she said and reached for the door handle. The one in the suit got to it first and opened it and motioned for her to go ahead. A gentleman, huh? And one that did smell really damn good. "Thanks." she said sincerely and smiled warmly.

"My pleasure." he assured her and watched her long after she stepped through the doors and into the lobby. Nearly closing the door on Danny as he was coming through behind him.

"Watch it, Flack!" Danny scolded him, then noticed his best friend checking out the ass view of the new girl. "My pleasure," he scoffed. "You're pathetic."

"Yeah? Well only will tell just one of she finds pathetic. And judging by the reaction you got, I'd say you're in the lead."

Danny snorted and hurried to catch up with the new detective. When he called to her, she turned and looked directly past him and right at Flack.

She smiled. She had a beautiful smile.

Suddenly the view inside the crime lab seemed a whole lot brighter to Detective Don Flack.


	4. You're related to who?

**A/N :Once again, I only own the characters new and unfamiliar to you.**

**Anything in italics is a flashback.**

**For my own use, I have estimated Adam's age at 25. His sister's at 30. Just works better.**

"Its taken me a while but now I finally know.

Everything that matters most is at home."

-Home by Paul Brandt

You're related to who? ... How is that even remotely possible?

_It was a gorgeous late spring afternoon. The sky was clear and electric blue. The sun high and bright, raining down warmth. A sight breeze tousled the tree tops surrounding Bleeker Park in downtown Brooklyn. The playground equipment covered in foul mouthed graffiti. Beer bottles and trash littering the patches of long dead grass. The basketball court was missing half the chain link fence and all of the nets. The swings had been twisted around the poles or over the top railing. Yet for two children, from a home where love an affection came in short supply and you were more liable to see the leather of a belt across your back side or a back hand across your face or days without proper meals and no clean clothes, this park was like heaven. An escape. An escape to be themselves. To just be kids._

_"'You're getting way too heavy for this, Adam." Eleven year old Samantha Ross complained, ponytail flying in the wind, cheeks flushed with exertion as she ran as fast as she could,hands gripping the metal of the bar so tight her knuckles turned white._

_"Shut up," he growled. "and just go faster."_

_"You're bigger than me almost. You should be the one pushing me." she said._

_"I'll push tomorrow." he promised, flat out on his back, eyes riveted on the sky above him, brown curls tousled in the breeze. _

_No matter how often the did this, the never got tired of it or felt the least bit dizzy. It had become something special between the seven year old boy in his faded holey jeans and torn Transformers t-shirt and his sister, every inch the tomboy in baggy overalls and an ancient Yankees t-shirt she'd found last week in the lost and found at school. This was something they did together. Their own private thing. And although they'd never admit it,they'd miss it and each other when the novelty passed. They would also never admit that they were each other's best and dearest friend. They didn't really bother with the other kids. Mom always refused to let them have people over in case daddy was in one of his moods. Just like after he got in one of those moods, they got locked in the basement for hours on end, nursing bleeding welts on their backsides and rubbing each other's bruised faces. Next day, no matter how hot, they always had to wear long clothes to school so no one would know what bad kids they were and embarrass momma and daddy. It was no matter. The other kids didn't really bother with them. They picked on Adam because of how intelligent he was and how quick he was to answer questions in class or to offer to stay and help the teacher after hours. And they were scared of Sam, because even though she was little for her age, she'd beat up anyone, boy or girl, that picked on her brother. She also got in the way when Daddy picked on him too. And for that her beatings were always ten times worse than Adam's._

_Sam, or Sammie,as Adam affectionately called her, stopped running and hopped up on the carousel and lied down beside her younger brother. They held hands tightly and looked up at the sky and listened to the birds in the trees and the sounds of the carson the road several hundred feet behind them. _

_"If momma and daddy find out we skipped this afternoon, we're in big trouble." Adam said fearfully._

_Sammie shrugged. "It was my idea, peanut. Don't be sweatin' it. Besides, daddy's working overtime and momma could care less where we are as long as we stay out of jail."_

_But Adam would sweat it. He'd sweat it for the rest of the afternoon. The thought of facing the wrath of his father enough to send chills down his spine and make himself nearly wet his pants. Sometimes that happened when daddy got to yelling loud enough to wake the dead and started throwing things around the house. And Sammie would take him upstairs and clean him up and dry his tears of shame and lie on his bed with him and rock him and stroke his hair and promise one day they'd get out of there.Together._

_"What do you want to be when you grow up, peanut?" Sammie asked curiously._

_"I don't know," he replied. "I guess..." he thought long and hard, forehead wrinkled with the effort, eyes squinted. "I wanna be a rock star." he announced confidently._

_"What kind of rock star? Like Elvis?"_

_"Nah. More like the guy from Aerosmith. Do ya think I could be a rock star one day?"_

_"I think you're way to smart to be just a rock star. You should be a doctor or a scientist or something and be a world famous rock star on the side. Make lots and lots of money and live in a really big, fancy house and have all kinds of cars and people asking for your autograph."_

_"That would be so cool," Adam sighed dreamily._

_"And if you're a doctor or a scientist, too, than you can help people at the same time."_

_He just nodded and lay there in silence as they carousel began to slow down. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" he asked in return, looking over at his sister._

_"I wanna be a police woman,"she answered quickly. "I want to help people and put people in jail that deserve it. Bad people that do awful things to good people."_

_"Like us?" Adam asked seriously. "Help people like me and you and put guys like daddy in jail?"_

_"Exactly."_

_"Ya think that'll ever happen? Ya think me and you we'll ever be what we want to be?"_

_"We can be whatever we want," she assured him._

_"Ya think we'll ever get out of Brooklyn?"_

_"Sure. I'm gonna live on Park Avenue in a big old penthouse!" she enthused._

_"Police men don't live on Park Avenue," Adam scoffed. "Just reach people do."_

_"Well, then when your a rich and famous rock star scientist, you can buy me a penthouse, peanut. How does that sound? Deal?"_

_"Deal." Adam agreed. And they shook on it._

_"You know what I'm thinking right now?" she asked._

_"What's that,Sammie?"_

_"I'm thinkin' its your turn to push."_

Adam just couldn't contain himself any longer. For the last hour he'd been checking the clock over the door of the trace lab. Unable to concentrate on the samples before him or the loud rock music blaring in his ears via his I-pod. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this excited about anything. Especially when it came to work. That time not long ago when Mac let him take all the credit for cracking the Second Life game and letting him work alongside of him had been a rush. But nothing compared to this. When his sister had called last week to say she'd been given the job as the new CSI at the lab, he'd jumped around his living room like the Giants receivers in the end zone after scoring a touch down. The last real time he'd been able to spend with his sister was last year following the incident in the warehouse and he'd gone down to Arizona to rest and recuperate and she'd taken three weeks off to play nurse maid. He didn't care that he'd be sleeping on the couch for God knows how long. All that mattered is that she was here. Where she belonged. With him. When she'd gone her separate ways to pursue schooling, the heart ache had been unreal. She went to Dartmouth in New Hampshire while he stayed behind in Arizona to finish high school. And when it came time for him to head to Columbia in New York, she'd returned to Phoenix to begin her career. He'd stayed in New York when Mac hired him after graduation. And while he and Sam e-mailed and called and talked via web cam, it just wasn't the same as face to face contact.

When the clock above the door reached twenty to three, he shed the lab coat and the latex gloves and re-catologued and locked up his samples for later and quietly and calmy left the room. So quietly and calmly that Lindsay, working on the other side, didnt' even notice him leave until he was already out in the hall. What the hell is he up to? she thought, and shurgged out of her lab coat and snapped off her gloves and decided to follow him at a discreet distance.

"Where's Adam going?" Stella asked as she stood by her office door, watching the back of the young lab tech get further and further away. She'd seen him pass by the glass walls like a man on a mission. And when he didn't respond to her calling his name, she went after him as well. Now she and Lindsay both stood in the hallway, watching and waiting to see what in God's name he was up to.

"I don't know." Lindsay replied. "But he's been acting really strange these past couple of weeks. And when I called his house yesterday, some girl answered. And it wasn't Kendall. And when I asked him about it, he dodged the question completely. Strange. But then, he's a little strange, don't ya think?"

"I think you need to be a little nicer to him." Stella replied forcefully. She couldn't forget Adam putting his ass on the line with get her HIV testing done as soon as possible. "He's a stand up guy," she told Lindsay. "and he's an asset to this lab. I couldn't imagine him not being here."

Adam went down to the elevators and stopped. Standing before them with his hands shoved in his pockets and rocking on his heels and biting his bottom lip. Any second now, he thought, as he watched the numbers above on of the elevators get closer and closer to 35. Any second now and I don't have to keep my mouth shut anymore. 'Cause its killing me.

There was a loud **BING! **and the doors slid open and a familiar face stepped out, followed by Danny and Flack. They didn't matter. A huge, bright smile spread across Adam's boyish face, mirroring the one gracing the beautiful face before him, and before Danny could get half of the name Adam out, he and Flack were stopped dead in the tracks of the new CSI being embraced by Adam Ross. Practically lifted off her feet. And she was hugging him back.

"Flack..." Danny looked mortified. "Ya don't think someone like her could be with someone like him, do ya?"

"There's someone for everyone Messer." Flack reasoned, thinking I sure as hell hope she's not with him.

"I know...but Adam? And her? Adam and her? Together? What the fuck is up with that?"

Flack just shrugged, waited for the new girl and Adam finished getting reacquainted.

"I see you guys met my sister." Adam exclaimed, turning to them with his arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Your what?" Danny asked, surprised.

"My older sister, actually." Adam chirped, smiling proudly at her.

"Get out of town!" Danny laughed. Still in disbelief. "Your sister? I didn't even know you had a sister, Adam."

The lab tech just gave a little laugh. "Surprise!" he exclaimed.

"Let me get this straight," Danny was having a hard time wrapping his head around it all. "This is your sister."

Adam nodded.

"Your older sister." Flack needed clarification as well.

Adam nodded again.

"That you've never mentioned. Ever. And now your secret sister is now our new CSI." Danny said.

"Absolutely." Adam nodded. "Mac asked me not to say anything to anyone 'cause he didn't want anyone thinkin' he hired her 'cause we're related or anything. She got hired 'cause she's crazy smart. You guys know she was a cop in Phoenix? And that she has a masters in forensics and a b.a. in criminal profiling? Talk about an Einstein, huh?"

I am so royally screwed with my grade twelve, Flack thought. No girl with a brain pan the size of New York would be with a guy like him. Grade twelve diploma, a lowly second grade homicide detective. No way in hell.

"Adam, how do ya expect me to know all that when I didn't even know you had a sister or that you were originally from Brooklyn." Danny complained.

Adam shrugged. "Maybe you should have asked more about me instead of talking so much about yourself." he said gently.

"You're a goddamn comedian." Danny grumbled. "How is this possible? How can someone like her, be related to someone like you. Not even a resemblance or nothin'. Is this April first? Is this April Fools day? What the hell? Are we being Punk'd or something."

"Ha-ha," Adam said dryly. "This is my sister." he assured the two men. "Samantha Ross. Detective Samantha Ross actually. And Sammie, this is Detective Danny Messer..."

Danny offered a hand, still burdened down by the trays of coffees. "Still think we're being Punk'd," he said as she shook his hand.

"Danny's a CSI, too." Adam informed his sister. "He was the one in the warehouse with me that day. And this is Detective Don Flack. He's homicide. He's the..."

"One that got you out of the warehouse that day," Sam finished as she shook the handsome detective's hand. He actually far surpassed handsome. He was simply down right gorgeous. And those blue eyes. "Adam told me all about that day," she said, taking her hand back, feeling her face flush and knees go a little week. I so don't need something like this, or someone like him in my life, she thought. "Thanks for getting him out of there. It meant a lot to know someone cared about him that much. Nice to finally put a face to the name. He talked about you all the time."

Adam blushed slightly.

"When he kept calling you detective, I kept thinking of the guy on CSI or on CSI:Miami." she said. "You know, the old crotchety type."

"He ain't old," Danny said. "But the crotetchy part fits."

She ignored the comment. "Wasn't expecting someone like... I don't know... someone like you."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or offended." Flack said light heartedly.He noticed that like Adam, she rambled when she got a little nervous about something. And that the tips of her ears went red and her eyes darkened. She was insanely beautiful. He honestly had never meant any one like her in all his life.

"Flattered. For sure." she assured him. "It's jsut that... you know what? Never mind. Just thank you for helping my brother."

"No problem." Flack said. "And Adam was a real hero that day. Saved two cops singlehandedly."

"You never told me that." Sam scolded her brother.

Adam blushed furiously. "It was no big deal."

"Maybe you can tell me about it later." Sam said. Speaking to Flack.

"For sure." he said with a charming, boyish smile that showed off dimples in his cheeks.

Danny looked at his best friend, then at the new girl, then back at his best friend. Saw the way the two of them looked at each other. Obviously some kind of spark there. "Now taht we've all gotten to know each other," he said, anxious to get a shot at the new girl himself. "Maybe we should get ya to Mac's office."

"Good idea." she agreed, falling in step between Adam and Flack as they led the way.

Sonofabitch, Danny sighed and followed reluctantly behind. He made a mental note to tear Flack a new one later.

**Special thanks to:**

**Aphina, Madison Bellows, Bluehaven 4220, EddiesGirl, LaLa 036 and Shane varson for reading and reviewing! Enjoy! Pass the word!**


	5. Shades of Aiden, pieces of yourself

**Once again, I own nothing or no one except for Samantha Ross.**

**Shades of Aiden, pieces of yourself**

"She's sun and rain,

she's fire and ice,

a little crazy but its nice.

And when she gets mad, you best leave her alone.

'Cause she'll rage just like a river, than she'll beg you to forgive her,

Oh she's every woman that I've ever known."

-She's Every Woman Garth Brooks

"The day suddenly got a whole lot more interesting." Stella said, as she and Lindsay, still observing from halfway down the hall, watched in shock and fascination as Adam scooped a pretty little brunette thing up into his arms, a massive childish grin on his face as he lifted her effortlessly off her feet. Then kept his arm around her shoulders as he talked to Danny and Flack, who were looking on in states of confusion and awe.

"Who is that?" Lindsay wondered aloud, hands on her hips, straining her eyes in an attempt to read lips from that far away. "Is Adam dating someone other than Kendall? I mean, I thought they were in an exclusive type deal? And to bring another girl to your work place? Doesn't seem like an Adam thing to do. I bet you that that's who answered the phone at his place."

"I don't know who she is," Stella said. "But he obviously knows her very well."

"What's going on?" Hawkes asked, as he came down the hall from ballistics, carrying a small stack of case folders and found Stella and Lindsay in the hall, staring intently in the direction of the elevators.

"Check this out, Hawkes." Lindsay said, nodding in the direction of Adam, Flack, Danny and the mystery woman. "Looks like Adam's been playing the field a little."

"You don't know that." Stella chastised the younger woman. "That's how rumours get started. She's probably just a friend."

"When is the last time a friend hugged you and smiled at you like that?" Lindsay inquired.

"She looks cute." Hawkes said approvingly. "Lucky Adam. Think that might be the new girl?"

"How would she know Adam?" Lindsay asked.

Hawkes shrugged. He was never one to jump to conclusions or make assumptions or judgements. He preferred to get all the facts before offering too much of a comment. "Maybe she's an old classmate from university," he reasoned. "She could be anyone. Like Stella said. Close friend, relative. There's a number of possibilities."

"Are you guys talking about the girl with Adam?" Kendall popped her out of the trace lab. She'd heard their less than hushed conversation and the jealous girlfriend in her had given her enough just cause to check the situation out for herself.

Stella nodded. "Do you know her? Ex university buddy? Old friend? Another girlfriend?"

Kendall glared at her. "For the record, he only has time and energy for one girlfriend. That's the new CSI. His sister."

"Sister!?" Stella and Lindsay exclaimed in unison.

"Adam has a sister?" Hawkes frowned. "He never talked about having a sister."

"Maybe because he knows you guys won't bother to listen," Kendall felt the urge to stick up for her boyfriend. "I mean, have any of you ever thought of sitting down with him and having a conversation with him about something other than work? There's more to him than any of you could possibly know.Try talking to him like a human being and not treating him like the lab whipping boy and you'll be pleasantly surprised. Trust me. I was."

"She told you two." Hawkes said and grinned at Stella and Lindsay as Kendall disappeared back into trace.

Personally, despite his penchant for dressing like a frat boy who just rolled out of bed after a hard night of partying and his often eccentric behaviour, Adam Ross was a hell of a nice guy who would bend over backwards to help a friend and deserved to be given a fair shake around there. Half the time it was his hard work that broke a case yet he never got credit for it, or asked for any sort of recognition. He also had a shy, broken little boy quality to him that Hawkes had unfortunately seen many a time before during his rotation in the ER during his med school days when an abused child rolled in. He'd heard that Adam's father had been a bully, but Hawkes himself had never brought up the subject with the young lab tech. Some wounds never fully healed and Hawkes didn't want to re-open any of them.

"Check out the way Danny and Flack are checking her out." Stella commented with a laugh. ''Those two are hopeless. You would swear they've never seen a pair of boobs or an ass before."

"Looks like Flack may come out on top in that betting pool over at the precinct after all." Lindsay added.

"I don't know." Stella said, shaking her head. "Something about that new girl, just by looking at her, tells me that she's not a pushover. She'll give him a run for his money. She won't make it easy on him. And I guarantee, that he'll like it and keep going back for more."

"Might be exactly what he needs." Hawkes offered.

The three of them buttoned up and smiled politely as the new girl, flanked by Adam and Flack as if they were her personal body guards and trailed after by an annoyed, grumpy looking Danny, came down the hall towards them. They made a stop at ac's office, but Danny kept going.

"New friend, Danny?" Lindsay asked.

"Adam's sister." he replied crossly. "Don't you guys have work to do?"

"Who pissed on your cornflakes?" Stella asked as he stalked past them.

"Flack." he simply replied and turned into the lunch room.

"What's gotten into him?" Hawkes asked.

"Exactly like he said.Flack." Stella replied. "Come on, you two. Let's go and hang out by Mac's office and pretend we're not eaves dropping."

"You know," Lindsay said. "Danny really hopes she's like Aiden."

Stella smiled. "So do I." she said.

Adam knocked noisily on the office door. "Uh... Mac?" he poked his head in cautiously.

"How's that trace from my subway tracks case coming?" Mac asked, his eyes riveted on the computer screen in front of hm, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Fine. I'm on top of everything. Its all in the GC/MS as we speak. Just waiting for the results to come through."

"Good. That's what I like to hear. I don't want things falling behind like they did when you were gone for three weeks in Phoenix."

"Didn't help that you were away in England either." Adam commented.

Mac stopped typing. Looked over at the sheepish looking lab tech, an eyebrow arched.

"That so did not come out right. I did not mean that the way it sounded." Adam defended himself. "You had every right to go away. What you do with your personal time is your business. Not mine. Just that I heard this place practically imploded without you. Not that Stella isn't capable of running the place. 'Cause she is, don't get me wrong. Just no one can do this job like you and keep this place running and all and... you know what? I'll shut up now."

Mac smirked. "Is there something you wanted Adam?" he asked firmly, yet politely.

"No. I didn't want anything. Its just that my sister is here.Out in the hall with Detective Flack."

"Why is she out in the hall with Detective Flack? How'd she end up with him?"

"Something about sitting outside on the front bench and Danny making a lame ass comment. Its weird, long story, trust me. Guys like Danny, they tend to follow her around. Its like she has punish me written on her forehead or something. She's a magnet for the faux renaissance man type. She was with this guy in Phoenix and... never mind."

"And why is she out in the hall with Detective Flack and not in here, with you, talking to me?" Mac asked.

"Good question." Adam said and knocked on the glass wall and waved his sister into the office.

Mac pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up and came around to greet a young, attractive brunette as she stepped confidently into his office. He saw no resemblance between brother and sister apart from the same smile and the same lovely white teeth. While Adam was somewhat tall and bulky with thick wavy hair and a dishevelled appearance, his sister was short in stature and had a willowy figured and chestnut rod straight hair and was dressed neatly and conservatively. He took one look at her and someone else immediately sprung to mind. Not so much in physical resemblance, but in style and confidence and the sure, professional way she conducted herself. Aiden.

"This is my sister, Samantha." Adam introduced her to Mac. "Sammie, this is Detective Mac Taylor. Your new boss."

"As I said before, just call me Mac," he said and shook her hand warmly. "Pleasure to finally meet you."

"You as well. Its nice to be able to put faces to the names Adam has mentioned over and over."

Mac gestured for her to have a seat in front of his desk. "Adam, if you'll..."

"Give you guys a moment?" he finished. "Of course."

As Adam went to leave, Mac noticed the other members of the team gathered out in the hallway, trying their best to act as if they weren't being nosey. "Send Stella in, would you, Adam?" he asked.

"Sure. No problem." he stepped out into the hallway and passed the message along to Stella.

"And the rest of you make yourselves scarce!" Mac yelled out to disperse the crowd.

Samantha took seat in the leather bound chair in front of the neatly organized glass topped desk and stole a glance around the room. Bright yellow walls, a couple of book cases and filing cabinets. A large map of the city of New York tacked to one wall. Personal mementos and photographs adorning the others. The one that caught her eye almost immediately was off a much younger Mac Taylor in a Marines dress uniform. Adam had mentioned that Mac was a former Marine and that he'd survived the bombing of the barracks in Beirut in 1983. And that his wife, Claire, had died on nine eleven. Adam had said the man was pretty much a mystery. But that he was well respected, well liked, and more than a little feared among the lab techs. She figured as long as you did your job properly, what was there to be afraid of?

She glanced towards the door as a tall, slender attractive woman in a black business suit and a head full of dark curls came into the room. "You must be Detective Bonasera," she said, getting to her feet and offering her hand.

"I am." Stella smiled and shook the younger woman's hand warmly. "But please call me Stella."

"Adam mentions you all the time." Sam said, as the two women took seats in front of Mac's desk as he slipped in behind it.

"Unfortunately, I can't say the same about you." Stella said reluctantly. "Adam's never mentioned a sister."

"He's very private about some things . We've always been very close. Since we were little kids. He means the world to me. He's my little brother after all. I'm very proud of him. He's come a long way from the slums of Brooklyn."

_My dad was bully._Stella easily recalled Adam telling her once. When they were investigating the woman shop lifting from all the high end stores. When they'd watched the surveillance tapes, Adam had commented that the way the suspect cringed and jumped when someone approached quickly or raised their hand was a classic sign of domestic abuse. He never spoke of it again, and the way he had closed himself off so quickly after that simple comment told Stella that his childhood had been far from perfect. She wondered how much his sister had gone through.

"How did you and Adam end up in Phoenix?" Stella asked curiously. "I always just assumed he was originally from there."

"Our father passed away when I was fourteen. Adam was nine. Our mother met someone quite quickly and he was offered a job in there so we all packed up and left. It was a God send, to be honest. All of us needed to get away, to lay down new roots. Start fresh. I wasn't surprised when Adam came back here. He always had big dreams and he knew this was one of the biggest and best cities to be in. I wasn't in a hurry to get back.So after university, I took a job with the Phoenix P.D. Moved through the ranks. Some things kinda fell apart about a year ago and I've been waiting for a chance to move on. When I saw the posting Detective Taylor..."

He cleared his throat noisily.

"Sorry. Mac." she corrected herself with a girlish giggle. "When I saw the posting Mac put out, I jumped on it. And here I am. Back home. Its where I belong. There's nothing left back in Arizona for me. Who knows? Maybe there's something big for me here."

Stella couldn't help but stare at the new detective. There was something very refreshing about her that went way beyond the girl next door looks. It was in the honesty and candidness of her responses. In the way she spoke confidently and in the firmness of her handshake and the sincerity and trust in her eyes. And Stella too was reminded of Aiden. The eagerness to impress but sure enough of herself not to care what others thought or said about her. Samantha Ross would be a welcome addition to the lab. And would no doubt change every ones lives. Stella just didn't know how much, or how quickly she would do it.

"Tell us about your sister, Adam." Hawkes said. He and Flack and Danny sat at one of the tables in the staff lunch room, sipping lukewarm coffee and bottles of water and discussing what they knew so far about Samantha Ross. Which was very little. Adam didn't seem to keen on sharing any information with them. He'd been dodging the hints they'd been dropping for the last twenty minutes. Hawkes had decided to just take the bull by the horns and ask outright.

"What's there to tell?" the lab tech asked, stirring a handful of sugar packages into black coffee.

"The basics. Likes, dislikes, schooling,stuff like that. Details." Hawkes replied. Then added very politely, "Please."

"Screw that stuff." Danny said. "Tell us what's important. She got a boyfriend? Husband? Significant other? What?"

Adam fixed Danny with a foul look. "Don't even think about it, Messer," he warned. "Keep your grime-es off of my sister. She doesn't need a boyfriend or someone to hook up with or whatever you want to call it, right now. Its the last thing on her mind, trust me."

"Too bad." Danny said sincerely. "Must break Flack's heart to hear that."

Blue eyes locked on Danny. "And what's that suppose to mean?" Flack asked.

"I saw you checking her out." Danny replied. "Given her that little smile of yours. Chattin' her up in the elevator. Holdin' open doors and shit."

Flack snorted and shock his head. "I was being a gentleman." he informed his friend.

"Yeah, right. You were just gettin' ready to bust some serious game on her and you know it."

"You're delusional, Messer. You are. I was just being nice. Making the new girl feel welcome.That's it."

"Bullshit!" Danny laughed. "You were so comin' on to her."

"You were coming on to my sister?" Adam looked mortified at the thought.

"No. I wasn't." Flack defended himself. "Okay, I'll admit. You got a pretty hot sister, Adam. She is way too attractive to be related to you in any shape or form but that's an entirely different story. But I was not coming on to her. I had no intentions on coming on to her. If you should be pissed at any one it should be Messer, trying out his whole player thing. And failing miserably, I may add."

"Fuck you, Flack." Danny said. Know who she reminds me of? Aiden. All that hotness and Brooklyn hard core tough girl bitchiness."

"For sure." Flack agreed. "Definitely like Aiden. Who, may I remind you, shot you down too."

"Hey, once she gets accostomed to the Messer charm, it'll be all good. Trust me."

"Messer charm." Flack scoffed. "Messer bullshit is more like it. Besides, aren't you with Lindsay?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Flack. I don't know if I'm coming or going with her anymore. And let's face it? Sex on a pool table and a couple of near tries since and a few dates does not exactly qualify as a relationship. Friends with benefits, maybe."

"I so did not want to hear that." Adam grumbled.

"But back to the good stuff." Danny changed the subject quickly.

Truth was, he had no idea what the issue was between him and Lindsay. It was way too complicated for even him to fully comprehend. It just seemed as if every time they were getting closer and closer to making a serious commitment to each other, to be ready to take their relationship to the next level, Lindsay went through some kind of emotional turmoil and began pushing him away. And it hadn't helped things that no matter how many times he'd been there for her, whether it be saving her ass in the midst of a undercover op gone bad or flying to Montana to support her through her trial, she was never around when he needed her. He'd gone through some rough moments following little Rueben's death and she'd been no where around to help him out.

But Flack was .Flack was his best friend. Hands down. Flack would go to hell and back for him and vice versa if the time ever arose. Apparently the saying was true. It was bros before hoes.

"You're sister, Adam." Danny said, sipping his coffee. "She got a boyfriend or what?"

"No. No boyfriend, no husband, no nothing. Na-da."

"There's hope for us yet, Flack." Danny said.

"No offense, Danny," Adam tried to be as sensitive as possible with what he was about to say. It wasn't his intention to hurt anyone's feelings, but the thought of his sister and any of these guys turned his stomach. The thought of his sister with any guy for that matter made him sick. But Danny and Flack? Oh hell no. Especially Danny. Was he really God's gift like he let on? Or was it all just an act? Adam didn't want his sister to be the one to find out. "but my sister... well, you're not exactly her type. You're too... what's the word..."

"Too much of an ass hole?" Flack offered.

"That too." Adam agreed and an empty bottle of water tossed at him for doing so. "Its just that... don't take this as an insult or anything, but you're blond for one. She isn't into blonds. She likes dark haired guys. At least they've always had dark hair."

Flack grinned victoriously at Danny. "Flack one, Messer zero." he chided.

Danny flipped him the middle finger.

"Guys, give it a rest, all right." Adam implored. "You're both just not her type. I mean, you're cops. She doesn't date cops. Bad experience. Real bad experience, actually. And if she did, she'd definitely go for someone like Hawkes first. You know, the strong, silent, smart type."

"Are you implying we're stupid?" Danny gasped dramatically.

Adam held up his hands in self defense. "No...no. All I'm trying to say is that..." he sighed heavily. "Look, I am begging you guys. Just stay away from my sister. Please. She doesn't need any more drama in her life right now. Drama is why she left Phoenix in the first place and I don't want her having to bail out of her 'cause you two can't keep your dicks in your pants. So please. Please. Just leave my sister alone."

Danny and Flack looked at each other and smirked. Both of them thinking, sorry Adam, you are shit out of luck

"So she likes the intelligent type, huh." Hawkes spoke up. "What else does she like? Books? The theatre? Music? What?"

"I don't know, okay?" Adam shook his head, clearly uncomfortable with discussing any aspect of his sister with them. "You want to know stuff like that, ask her."

"I will do just that." Hawkes concluded.

Stella and Samantha came into the lunch room. Laughing and chatting as if they'd known each other all their lives and were doing nothing more catching up on a little work place gossip or what they'd done the night before. When silence between all the men fell, Stella stopped walking and turned a leery gaze on all of them, hands on her slender hips.

"All right..." she said, like a school teacher getting ready to chastise her students for passing notes and whispering during a lesson. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing." Adam and Hawkes answered in unison.

"Football." Danny said.

"Hockey." Flack replied.

Hawkes quickly got to his feet and went over to welcome Samantha, his hand outstretched. "I'm Sheldon Hawkes," he said in his warm, soothing voice.

"The famous ME turned CSI." she said, smiling brightly and shaking his hand. "Adam told me all about you."

"All good I hope." Hawkes smiled as well, coffee brown eyes sparkling.

"Of course." she assured him. "Do I call you Hawkes? Sheldon?"

"You may call me whatever you want." he informed her flirtatiously.

Flack nearly spit a mouthful of coffee across the table. Hawkes busting his game? A game none of them even knew he had or even knew how to use? For real?

"In that case, Sheldon," she said. "I'm Samantha."

"A pleasure." he said and motioned for her to take a seat at the table, pulling out a chair for her. "I'd like to hear about Phoenix," he told her. "Would you like something to drink? Bottle of water? Pop? Tea or coffee?"

She accepted a bottle of water.

Danny and Flack looked at each other. Each with an eyebrow raised. What the fuck is going on here? they both thought.

"Where's Lindsay?" Stella asked, taking a seat between Danny and Flack as Hawkes and Samantha began an intense conversation into life in Arizona as opposed to New York and Hawkes discussed his reasons for leaving the MEs office in exchange for something more exhilarating.

"Moping somewhere." Danny replied. He wasn't sure who he was pissed at anymore. Flack or Hawkes. He chose the latter. Because right now, Flack wasn't doing to good in the score with the new girl department either. "Someone else took away her cute new girl title away."

"Very funny, Messer." Lindsay said as she slipped into the room. "A girl can't go to the bathroom and you're already talking shit?"

"You can go wherever your little heart desires." he informed her.

Lindsay stood before Flack, arms folded across her chest, staring down at him expectantly.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Can I sit there?" she asked in response.

"There's twenty other chairs in the room, Monroe. Park yourself in one."

She frowned.

"He was here first." Danny reasoned.

She shook her head in obvious disgust and decided instead to approach the new girl. Let this new CSI now that while she may think she's all that, from where Lindsay was standing, she didn't see much to write home about. Regardless of the spell she seemed to have cast on all the guys. Lindsay wasn't being second in Danny's life to anyone. "I'm Lindsay Monroe." she simply announced, offering a hand.

Samantha looked the girl from head to toe. This country girl with the piss poor Posh Spice knock off hair do had another thing coming if she was planning on playing the intimidation game with her. If this girl was as much of a bitch as Adam let on, she was about to meet an even bigger one if she pushed it. "The one from the mid west that Danny calls Montana, right?"

Lindsay bristled.

Everyone felt the tension appear immediately. And everyone stopped and watched and waited.

"Don't feel too bad." Sam said and calmly sipped her bottle of water. "You'll be called a lot worse in this job. Trust me. Personally, I think its kinda cute."

"Finally!" Danny exclaimed. "Someone who appreciates a little romantic gesture."

"Its annoying and obnoxious." Lindsay informed him.

"If it would make you feel more appreciated, Danny," Sam leaned across the table and laid a hand on his forearm. "you can come up for a nickname for me." He may have been a little to forward and tried a little too hard at his attempts at charm, but Danny Messer seemed like a decent guy who meant well and had the best of intentions. He definitely deserved a lot more respect. And if this was how his girlfriend treated him, what did he let his enemies do to him?

"Yeah?" he grinned broadley. "How's Brooklyn sound?" he asked.

"Stupid." Lindsay replied.

"I think its perfect." Sam told him.

Lindsay felt her heart sink into her stomach. She felt vulnerable. And very,very threatened.

"Brooklyn it is." Danny decided.

And with that, the days of Montana had passed.

**Thanks to all my "fans" who have reviewed and helped me along.**

**Aphina**

**Maddison Bellows**

**Eddiesgirl**

**Bluehaven4220 **

**lily moonlight**

**I hope you all enjoy this. It was a little long and a little tedious. But it was important to establish relationships between Samantha and the others. Especially the guys! And a little Monroe bashing to end it all of. Also, the word grime-es that Adam uses, I borrowed from Tim Speedle. He used it once and I thought it was great so I borrowed it. RIP Speed!**


	6. He's got a crush on her

**I only own the ones you don't already know.**

**He's got a crush on her**

"Hey what's the point of this

Hey what's your favorite song

maybe we could hum along

Hey maybe just a smile

Oh hey, do you know that I can dance

Could we talk for awhile?

I think you're smart

you sweet thing

Tell me your sign

I'm dying here."

-Got You Where I Want You, The Flys

Danny Messer was a complete bastard.

And as Flack sat at his desk at the precinct, attempting to finish paper work that should have been completed and filed away days ago, a dozen or so other choice horribly profane words to describe his best friend popped into his head. He couldn't concentrate on anything. Every time he read a report the words became jumbled inside his head. Each time he tried to write something and put pen to paper, that litany or curse words and a flood of thoughts just took complete control of him. All because Danny Messer had to be a bastard. A fucking spiteful bastard, actually.

After Stella had taken Samantha downstairs to meet Sid and Pino - who'd thankfully gotten no further ahead with his pick up lines and his little winks and smiles and mentions of his condo and his Porche than Danny had with his lame ass Matt Leblanc impersonation- Mac politely reminded all of them that there was still a few hours left in the shift and a lot of work to do still. Samantha wasn't scheduled in until tomorrow morning. Eight a.m. like the rest of them. So she was heading back to Queens to get some rest for the big day tomorrow. And what did Danny Messer do? Announce he needed to head into Queens to find out some more info on his case and offered to drive her own. And she accepted. Only thing was, Danny's case had no connection to Queens whatsoever. As far as Flack knew from working the damn case alongside of Messer all day, there was no reason for the CSI to be in any of the other boroughs. Danny was just being a complete and utter bastard. He'd sneakily found a way to turn it into a competition to see who the new girl would warm up to first. so far, it seemed like Hawkes was winning that race. Charming her in his own quiet, unassuming way. So they were both bastards as far as Flack was concerned.

Why the hell do I even care? Flack asked himself. I barely even know this girl. Why do I care who she's with? Danny, Hawkes, hell even Pino. It doesn't have any bearing whatsoever on my life. Then why the hell does the thought of her -a woman he'd just met- with another guy eat away at him so bad?

Maybe because despite all the little smiles she'd given him or the way she looked him right in the eye, listening to him intently as he detailed Adam's plight in the warehouse and how he'd saved those two uniforms from certain death,she had barely said a damn word to him. Barely gave him the time of day. And it irritated the hell out of him. Immensely. He could remember how soft her fingers had been when he handed her his card and told her to call anytime. If she needed help, a ride somewhere in the city, someone to talk to or hang out with. He remembered the delicate smile she gave him and the way she ever so quietly said I'll put it to good use as she slipped the card into her back pocket. He even remembered the faint yet intoxicating smell of lavender in her hair when she'd stood so close to him in the elevator.

He wanted to be the one that was driving her home. Getting to know her better. Spending time with her and finding out what made her tick. And all because Danny Messer was such a bastard, here he was, relegated to his desk, gripping a pen so tightly his knuckles turned white and pressing down on the paper so hard it left ink blotches. And when he spelled a word wrong that any fifth grader could ace with no problem, he lost it. He snapped.

"You fucking sonofabitch!" he snarled. At the pen or at Danny? Maybe both. And he snapped the pen in two and tossed across his desk, sending it skittering across the cold metal and onto the tile floor. Get a goddamn grip! he ordered himself. What the hell is wrong with you? But the anger was still there and while what he really wanted was to find Danny and pin him against a wall until he cried uncle, he balled up the paper furiously and sent that sailing as well.

"Now that's mature, Flack." Detective Jessica Angell commented as she made her way past and the paper hit the toe of one of her leather high heel boots. "Ever heard of anger management?" she asked light heatedly. His Irish temper was well known in the department and a force to be reckoned with if you got on his bad side. And she avoided that like the plague.

"You ever heard of minding your own goddamn business?" he snapped back, grabbing a pen from the top drawer of his desk and then slamming the drawer shut.

Angell just couldn't resist doubling back to his desk. "You're a real Mary freakin' sunshine this afternoon." she said.

"Its been a long day." he reasoned and gathered his composure and went back to his reports.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"Nope." he replied simply.

She had taken his offer of an Irish coffee way out of context that night four months ago. All he had wanted was someone to talk to about the crap that had gone down between Danny and Rikki Sandoval that day. Angell had always been a pretty good listener when you needed to get something off your chest. His intentions had been strictly admirable. And when she'd taken it upon herself to kiss him in the parking lot of that dive bar, he'd done what every red blooded guy with a little too much adrenaline and alcohol in his system would have done and kissed her back. But when she asked 'my place or yours?' he snapped back into reality and realized that this was not going to happen. Not on that night. Not any night. That he considered her a colleague and nothing more. One of the guys. That last comment had nearly got him slapped out and they'd barely spoken to each other since.

Truth was, he felt uncomforable around her. While just a sex thing may have been good enough for her, he'd been trying to put those days behind him since the Devon disaster. He'd come to a point in his life where he was looking for something more. And if that meant using a bar of soap and his hand in the shower until that came along, so be it.

"You over at the lab earlier?" Angell asked, taking a seat in the chair beside his desk.

Move along, Angell, he thought. Just move along. "I was." he answered, alternating between reading information off his computer monitor and jotting things down on the forms in front of him.

"What's the new CSI like?" Angell asked curiously.

"She's all right." Flack replied.

"Is it really Adam Ross' sister?"

"It is."

"What does she look like?"

"I just told you. She's all right." Lying bastard, he thought. She's amazingly beautiful and you can't get that smell of her hair out of your head and that feel of her hand off of yours. And its eating you up that she's with Messer and not with you.

"Heard she's some tough little bitch from Brooklyn." Angell commented.

"Where'd you hear that?" Flack asked.

"Word travels. So what's your odds now on the office pool?"

"Slim to none." Flack replied. "Just like your odds of getting into my pants."

"That's harsh, Flack." Angell said and stood up. "Even for you."

He sighed heavily and watched her go. He didn't feel the least bit sorry and had no intention of apologizing for what he said. Now whose the bastard? he thought.

* * *

"So what's the deal with you, Brooklyn?" Danny asked, as they sat in a traffic jam on 53rd street. They'd been there for ten minutes and by the looks of things, they weren't getting out of there any time soon. So he jacked up the air conditioner and turned off the police ban radio for a CD of songs he'd downloaded off the Internet and they sipped iced caramel frappucinos he'd bought them at the Starbucks just down from the lab.

"How you mean?" she directed back at him, slipping a pair of sunglasses on her face that reminded him of something that Paris Hilton would wear. Her pony tail twisted and tucked into a sloppy bun and her shoes off and a bare foot sitting on the dash. She had watermelon pink toenails. He found it so innocent and so alluring all at the same time.

He'd never met anyone quite like her. So easy going and down to earth. So free spirited. The soul of a child trapped in a woman's body. She smiled and laughed easily. Her laugh was melodious and oh so feminine. He liked the way her nose and her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The way her eyes sparkled and danced when she she laughed. He liked the way she moved and the way she smelled. The way she handled herself with grace and poise yet kept people at a safe distance. He liked how she stood up for herself and the way she let you know she didn't take any crap from anyone. He liked that she reminded him so much of Aiden.

"What made you come back to New York after all those years in Phenoix?" he asked. "What made you give up eighty degree weather all year round to come back to a place where you'd freeze from December to April and have to trudge through snow up to your ass?"

'Well, first of all, while Phoenix does have roughly three hundred and twenty five days of sunshine per year and only something like 7.65 millimeters of rain, the temperature rarely goes below eighty five in the day. And if you ask me, that is way too damn hot for all year round. Unless your an avid golfer and want to be out on the course all year round, than its less than ideal. I am not a summer person. I prefer the fall. When the leaves are turning colour and the air smells fresh and there's a bit of a bite in the air. I mean, what's Christmas without snow? I missed the New York City Christmas'. Skating at Rockefeller, the Macy's parade, all the lights in all the trees. Not to mention I'm a huge hockey fan and Phoenix has a crap ass team."

"You a Rangers or Islanders fan?" Danny asked.

"None. New Jersey."

"New Jersey? How does a girl from Brooklyn like a team from New Jersey?"

She shrugged. "Guess 'cause both the Rangers and the Islanders suck shit."

"Jesus. Don't let Flack hear that. He's a huge Rangers fan. He's liable to beat your ass if he hears that."

"You like hockey?" she asked.

"I'm more a football guy. The Giants. You into football?

"I've never really watched it." she admitted.

"I know a guy that has box seats. When the season starts up again, I could see if I can cop a couple, take ya to your first football game." he hoped he didn't seem too eager.

She sipped her drink. "Don't you think Lindsay might be a little pissed off?" she asked.

She'd been looking for a subtle way to find out what the deal between Danny and Lindsay was. She just didn't understand how a girlfriend could treat a boyfriend with such utter disdain and disregard, all but attempting to humiliate him in front of his friends and a complete stranger. Good thing it seemed like he had thick skin and that he didn't let him bother him. Or did it just happen so much he'd gotten used to it? Or was it that he was past caring?

Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Fidgeted with his seat belt. "I hope this doesn't make me sound like a complete asshole," he said.

"Well say it and I'll let you know." she teased.

He grinned. "You're that type, huh? You don't put up with crap from no one. Say what's on your mind.'

"I shoot from the hip, Danny," she replied honestly. "I've had to. People look at me and see how small I am, how I look like I just graduated from high school and should be slingin' burgers to pay my way through university. They underestimate me. I learned hard and fast to have the mouth to back up whatever happens next."

"Kick a lot of ass down there in Arizona?"

"The list is long and plentiful. Trust me. You hand someone their ass and then ask questions. My step dad, he has this saying, 'hit first, talk later'. Words that work well in the right situation."

"You know," Danny said, inching the SUV forward. "You remind me of someone I use to know. Another CSI. A good friend of mine. She was from Brooklyn, too. People always underestimated her. She sure showed 'em what's what right quick."

"Aiden, right?"

Danny stared at her.

"Adam told me," she explained. "He felt really bad about it. He said he didn't know really know her, but that seeing you guys struggle with it was tough on him. He's pretty sensitive."

"Your brother is a hell of a guy." Danny praised.

She smiled. "He is." she agreed. "Its hard to loose someone you're really close to. I'm sorry about your friend."

"Thank you." Danny fought back tears. It still hurt. It still hurt so bad. So goddamn bad.

"And it makes me feel god that you put me in the same category. 'Cause you obviously thought very highly of her."

"I did. She was..." Danny shook his head in fond remembrance. "She was something. You two woulda loved each other."

"I'm sure. You never answered my question. About Lindsay."

"Honestly? Forgive me for being so blunt, but I'm tired of carrying about what Lindsay thinks. Things between us have never been easy. She's a little bit of a..."

"Drama queen?" Sam offered.

"You're a good judge of character." Danny chuckled.

"Too bad that doesn't apply to my own life," she sighed. "But that's an entire novel right there. So she's very me, me, me and you're very her, her, her."

"Damn your good." Danny praised.

"Piece of advice, Danny? Worry more about the most important person in your life. Yourself."

"Maybe I should be callin' ya Doctor Brooklyn." he teased.

She laughed. "I am the last person to be shelling out relationship advice. Believe me. I just don't like to see good people hurt. And you seem like good people."

"Thanks." he said. "That means a lot. And you never answered my question either."

"Do I have to wear one of them stupid huge foam fingers and paint my face?"

"I'll scoop ya a jersey and leave it at that." he said.

"Then, sure. I'll give football a go."

"Good. Back to you. What's the real reason you left Arizona? Aside from the nostalgia of New York. 'cause it can't be all warm and fuzzy memories you were missing 'cause Adam told me..." he stopped, realizing he'd said too much too soon.

"Adam and I were abused." she admitted. "But I don't talk about it."

"You don't have to." he assured her.

She smiled. "My grandparents were good to us. Its because of them that Adam and I have some good memories of our childhood. They made birthdays and Easter and Christmas special. Gave is stuff to look forward to."

"You're avoiding my question." Danny pointed out.

"I'm good at that." she said.

"Yeah. You are."

She sighed heavily and ran a hand through her bangs and then bit nervously on a well manicured thumb nail. "Let's just say I burned some bridges beyond repair and it was time for me to go." she said.

Danny nodded slowly. "A guy?" he asked.

"When isn't it? Guys are lying rat bastards. Present company excluded."

"We're not all like that." Danny informed her. "In the lab alone, you've got four guys that are decent. Your brother, myself, Hawkes and Flack. We're all right. I swear."

"I'm sure. Your friend. Is he married?"

"Hawkes? Naw. He's too devoted to the job to be with anyone."

"I meant your other friend." she said.

Why am I not surprised? Danny thought. "Its the blue eyes, right?" he asked. "The blue eyes do it every time."

"I'm just curious." she said defensively.

"Flack married?" Danny laughed. "Right. Flack isn't the marrying kind. Been best friends with him for years. If he ever gets married, I'll have a stroke. Besides, he's gay."

Sam stared at him. "Excuse me?" she asked.

Danny struggled to keep a straight face. "He is." he said.

"He can't be. There's no way."

"He is." Danny insisted.

"What a waste of a good man." Sam concluded. "Whoa... are you serious?"

Danny smiled. "No. I'm not."

She slapped his arm and he laughed.

"Last girl Flack was with was some ditsy rich bitch we all hated. She was gettin' her kicks bangin' a cop. Once something shinier than a badge came along, she was gone. I don't think Flack really cared. He wasn't that into her. She was more something to pass his time with than anything else."

"Is he into that kind of thing?" Sam asked. "Just a passing fling type thing?"

"Naw. He's not really like that. Guess he just got tired of being lonely and went for Mrs Right Now instead of Mrs Right. He works too much to be seriously involved with anyone."

"Maybe he works that much because he doesn't have anyone." Sam reasoned.

"Shit... you're good at this psycho-analyzing crap. You could set up shop next to Mac's office and make a mint just off the team."

"I've got my own issues." she said. "But I've also got this mother hen instinct. I like to protect people."

"Which explains your little thing with Lindsay back at the lab."

"I didn't like the way she was talking to you. So I put her in her place. Why? Was I too harsh?"

"Not harsh enough if you ask me." Danny told her.

She grinned. "I'll work on that." she promised. "I can be the queen of mean, you know."

"Come on." Danny scoffed. "I bet your harmless.'

Sam laughed. "Danny Messer," she said with a shake of her pretty head. "Your life is never going to be the same now that I'm in it."

He smiled. He was definately looking forward that.

**Thanks again to all my 'fans'! You all know who you are. Enjoy!**


	7. Too late to make it right

**I only own those you don't recognize.**

**Too late to make it right**

"Forgive, sounds good

forget, I'm not sure I could.

They say, time heals everything.

But I'm still waiting.

I'm through with doubt

there's nothing left for me to figure out.

I've paid a price

and I'll keep paying it.

I'm not ready to make nice,

I'm not ready to back down

I'm still mad as hell and

I don't have time to go round and round and round.

It's too late to make it right,

I probably woudn't if I could.

'Cause I'm mad as hell

Can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should."

-Not Ready to Make Nice, The Dixie Chicks

She unlocked the door to apartment 605 and stepped inside. It smelled of Pinesol and various other cleaning products. She'd spent the last two days scrubbing every surface and every nook and crannie. Shedding months of caked on dirt and nastiness. Her brother was a great guy. He was funny and cute in a geeky sort of way and had a heart of gold. But he kept house like he dressed. Half assed. She told him he owed her for her maid service and for all her cooking that wold save him from a life of grease and high cholesterol and banished nearly all take out menus from the apartment. And that she was putting his name in for a makeover on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Or What Not to Wear.

Adam, you need help, she'd said when he balked and appeared more than slightly hurt. How'd you ever survive that long without me?

It was a damn near miracle that the guy hadn't died of some food borne illness by now. His idea of a healthy meal was chinese without the MSG or a vegetarian pizza. No wonder Kendall nearly had a stroke when she saw produce and fresh meat and milk in the fridge and Adam answered the door freshly shaven and in a pair of brand new Tommy Jeans and a black golf shirt as opposed to his hung over, I just rolled off the couch look.

Adam Ross, Sam had said as she tossed him the new clothes she'd bought him. I am going to save your life!

She locked the door behind her and tossed her keys on a small table to the right. Toeing off her shoes, she went into the living room to check the answering machine. She was expecting a call from Pheonix. Her step father Clint. He was a better father to her and Adam than their real one had ever been. A retired pilot with both the Air Force and American Airlines. He was a tall, burly guy with snow white curly hair and a Wyatt Earp moustache and arms so huge they looked like they could crush steel. She and Adam fondly called him Sarge. And dad.

There were three new messages. She hit play and turned on the stereo and sunk onto the couch with a Sodoku puzzle book and a pen, her legs tucked underneath her.

"Hey lady bug..." a deep, rumbling voice echoed through the apartment, making her smile. "It's one thirty. Just calling to make sure you and your brother haven't strangled each other yet. 'Member how you two used to scrap when you were a teen and he was the annoying little brother?" a warm laugh nearly bounced off the walls. "Lots of good times with you two. Anyhow, give me a shout later tonight. Love ya, lady bug."

The machine beeped and went to the second message.

"Samantha..."

Her head shot up and she looked across the room towards the machine. She couldn't remember the last time he actually called her by her name.

"Its your father..."

Even worse. He always said daddy or dad.

"... it's three thirty," the message continued, "I've got something to tell you and I want you to call me back when you get this. Nothing's wrong with me or mommy, but its important. Talk soon, lady bug."

The machine switched onto the new message.

"Samantha..."

The sound of that voice made her blood run cold. Goosebumps pricked up all over her body. Her stomach tightened.

"I don't know why you took off like you did. I go away for three weeks and I come back and you're no nowhere around. What? You didn't stop to think I'd find out where you are and where you are? We can work things out. You know you can. You want it to work out. I miss you. You better call me back. Don't make me come to that shit hole city and drag your ass back here."

She sprang off of the couch. Stubbing her toe off of the leg of the coffee table and screaming every obscentity in the book as she hopped across the living room on one good foot as she made her way to the answering machine. She nearly busted the damn thing slamming her hand down on the erase button.

Nothing is going to make it right! she raged inside, wincing as she put her injured foot on the ground and began pacing the living room, hands in her hair. Nothing! Nothing can make it better! Make the pain go away! The hurt and the emotional scars and the permenent issues with trust the entire ordeal had left her with. The thought of him coming to New York sent blind panic gripping at her chest. She couldn't let that happen.She couldn't let him ruin anything else. Without even realizing it, she had reached into the backpocket of her pants and was holding that business card in her fingers. She stared down at it. At the name and number.

_"Whatever you need. Don't matter what time of day or what its for. Big or small. Just call."_

She was tempted to do it. Just pick up that phone and dial those numbers and... and what? What then? What would she say? How weak would that make her look? How vulnerable would she appear to a guy she barely knew? And what did it say for her when she was so willing to turn to a stranger for help? No. She wouldn't do it. She slipped the card back into her pocket. She just couldn't do it. Maybe one day, she thought wistfully. When it doesn't hurt so bad.

* * *

She sat with that diamond ring in her hand and tears streaming down her face. How could something so good turn out so horribly bad? There she was on a front porch swing on a wrap around porch at her parents' home. The wind rustling the trees and the sun beginning to set in the distance in a stunning display of vivid orange and pink that did little too brighten the darkness in her heart. On the eve of what was suppose to be the happiest day of her life, every dream and every wish had come to a screeching, disasterous end. For the first tie in her life she had actually been happy. In love. Someone loved her back. She was going to be a wife and maybe someone's mother one day. And now? Never again would she trust another man or let them get that close. Never.

_The screen door sqeaked open and through her tears she saw her brother and her dad standing there. Clint was their dad. No doubt about it. He'd treated them and loved them like his own since the day he maried their momma when Sam was fifteen and adam was ten. He'd moved them to Arizona to shed the years of torment. He fed them and clothed them and put them through school. Supported them no matter what. He was quick with an I love you or I'm proud of you. He'd helped them on the road to healing. And he'd turned their momma into a laughing, sparkling beautiful woman any child would be proud to call their mother._

_"Lady bug..." Clint said, his voice smooth and deep. "Can Adam and I join you?"_

_She nodded, brushing away tears with the back of her hand. _

_They sat on either side of her. The man who had become her father no questions asked. And the young man who meant the world to her and who she'd die to protect. The only man she ever trusted. Her peanut._

_Clint offered her a steaming cup of tea. "Your momma and I called everyone on the list and told them not to bother showin'. Don't you worry about a thing. Its all taken care of. Adam and I split the list. The church, the reception hall, DJ, all that. No worries. It's all done."_

_"Thank you." she said and sipped her tea. "What about nana and papa? They're probably on their way from Flagstaff right now."_

_"Got a hold of papa," Adam told her. "They're still coming down. Nana's bringing some of her famous pecan buttertarts you love so much. Says they'll cheer you up."_

_"And papa's bringing his twelve gauge Remington huntin' rifle and I'm gonna grab my Smith and Weston and me and him are gonna go on a pig hunting expedition. No offense to either of you workin' for the police. I'm talking about the low down dirty mud sucking kind of pig."_

_Sam managed a laugh. "Papa comin' here like John Wayne to shoot the place up. I can just see it happening."_

_"I tell ya, when I get a hold of that sonofabitch, I'm gonna beat his ass from sun up to sun down and then do it all again tomorrow." Clint vowed. "Dirty rotten..."_

_"Mother fucker." Adam finished._

_Sam burst out laughing and coughed and sputtered on her tea. She wrapped an arm around her brother's shoudlers and kissed his cheek. "I missed you, peanut," she said. "I'm glad you're here."_

_"So am I." he said, resting his head against hers. "Couldn't miss my sister's wedding, right? Even though now its my would be brother in law's funeral when dad and papa get a hold of his sorry ass."_

_"He's gonna be sorry all right." Clint delared. "No guy messes with my lady bug. And that guy? Thinking no one would find out? What a ..."_

_"Mother fucker." Adam said again. "Getting ladies he pulls over to give him favors in exchange of letting them go. That's jsut plain nasty. None of the guys I work with are like that."_

_"Maybe you should have brought a couple with you here and you coulda set me up." Sam laughed._

_"Just be thankful you found out now, rather than later." Clint reasoned._

_She nodded_

_"You make a decision yet?" Clint asked. "About taking off for a while? Mama and I will miss you but you have to do what's right for you, lady bug."_

_"I'm going to put in for a transfer or look for a posting somewhere." she replied confidently._

_"Where you going to go?" Adam asked._

_"Where ever they'll have me." she replied._

_Three weeks later, while the sonofabitch was in Cabo with some buddies, she cleaned out the apartment and the chequing and savings accounts and was on her way to New York City._

* * *

Now, she was in the small cramped living room of that one bedroom apartment in Queens with her leg up on the couch and an ice pack on her foot and the cordless phone tucked to her ear, listening to her father rant and rave for the last ten minutes.

"Who does that bastard think he is?" Clint raged. In the back ground, Sam could hear her mother begging her husband to just calm down. Before he has a heart attack or a stroke.

"Apparently, he thinks he's still with me." Sam said. "And he says that he's coming to New York if I don't call him."

"Here's the thing, lady bug... he's already on his way. Its why I was callin'. To give you the heads up."

Wonderful, Sam thought, sighing heavily and closing her eyes. "When did he leave?" she asked.

"This morning. He's drivin' so it gives you a few days to prepare. Is there anyone there that can keep an eye out on ya?"

"Just Adam." she replied.

"Honey, no offense to your brother, but he couldn't fight his way outta paper bag. I mean someone who can take care of business if the need arises."

"There's one person." she said. "He can more than handle his own. Trust me. I met him today." she lifted herself up slightly and pulled the card from her back pocket. "A homicide detective. The one that helped Adam out not long ago. He seems like a decent guy. Big and strong to boot."

"You trust him?" Cliff asked.

"I could trust him." she replied.

"That's a start."

Five minutes later, heart pounding in her chest, she was dialling the numbers on that business card. It rang once. Twice. Three times. She was just beginning to consider hanging up when he answered.

"Detective Flack."


	8. Auntiewhy?

**I only own those you don't know.**

**Auntie, why is mommy's picture in the paper?**

"Are you gently sleeping,

here inside my dreams?

and isn't faith believing

all power isn't seen?

As my heart holds you

just one beat away

I cherish all you gave me every day.

'Cause you are mine, forever love

watching over me from up above.

And I believe that angels breathe

and that love will live on and never leave.

A breath away's not far

to where you are."

-To where you are, Josh Groban

This is a bit of a cliff hanger, folks. This chapter goes back to the death of Samantha and how Flack is coping with it. In this chapter, we are honored to have the introduction of **Aphina's** character **Carmen Devine** from the wonderful stories **Simply Devine** and **Devine Intervention**. The latter is the story that persuaded me to join up! I hope I only do **Carmen (and Aphina)** justice. **Carmen**will play a significant role in further chapters as we explore, back in time, how she and Sam became friends. In this, any reference to Rick signifies Carmen's husband. Detective Rick Santucci. You may remember him from season 3. He was the young officer who was the sign language interpreter in **Silent Night**. He's a detective now. Further chapters will go in to have he and Carmen met.

Enjoy! This one is a little weepy.

P.S. Should have warned people about the use of swears. Don't like it, don't read. They're cops, people! Cops swear. Trust me.

* * *

He sat on the edge of the bed and cried. He hadn't been in there for three days. Instead he'd been sleeping on the couch in the basement. When he did sleep that was. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her. The way she had looked lying there in the hospital bed in the ER at Angel of Mercy. Her face ashen, hooked up to tubes to keep her alive. Her eyes closed and a faint smile on her lips and her hands resting still and warm on the crisp white sheet below her. The only sound in the room that hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the EKG machines monitoring her vitals. That and the pounding of his heart in his chest and the faint sobbing of a blood soaked Stella Bonasera.

There'd been to much damage done for them to help her. That bullet had torn into her chest and ruptured the pulmonary artery. The surgeons said it was a modern miracle that she even made it from the scene still breathing. Death should have been instantaneous they said. If it wasn't for Stella screaming at the paramedic to preform CPR and chest compression each time Samantha flat lined in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, she would have been dead before they even got a hundred yards from the crime scene. But Stella couldn't give up. Grief and guilt surging through her as she screamed at her friend to just hang in there, hang in there goddamn it. You're going to be okay. And each time the paramedic would manage to bring her back, he'd loose her just as quickly. Four times in the span of seven minutes. An MRI later at the hospital showed massive brain damage. Between that and the trauma to her heart that was repaired in the OR to no avail -- the heart basically exploded in her chest as the surgeon had so eloquently put it-- there was no chance that she'd ever live a normal life again. So they gave him a choice. Either keep her on a machine for the rest of what would be a pitiful existence, or just pull the plug and let her go. It hadn't been easy. But she would never had wanted to live like that. She believed in preserving the quality of your life. And what quality would she have as a complete vegetable. So at a quarter after twelve on a Saturday morning the machine was turned off and the tubes removed. It would take some time, the doctor said. Could be minutes, could be hours. But when she went it would be peaceful and painless. He prayed in his heart that that was true and sat down and waited.

She never regained consciousness or showed any signs that she knew he was there. And he sat and held her hand and smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead and told her he loved her over and over again. He talked about all the things they had together through the last ten years. How he had loved her from the moment he saw her and he'd never love anyone else but her. How she had given him the best gifts a man could ever receive. Having her as his wife and watching her bring their four children into the world. He told her he was proud of her and she amazed him every single day. That she was an incredible wife and an even better mother. He told her he would miss her. That he'd never stop missing her or wishing that she was there with him instead of so far away. That he'd never, ever stop loving her. He couldn't stress that enough. Because he needed her to know. Maybe through the years he hadn't said it or showed her enough. Maybe she felt as if she was taken for granted or under appreciated for all the work she put in to their marriage and their family. He hadn't always been easy to live with. When it was good, it was really, really good and when it was bad it was horribly bad. But she put up with him and the long crazy hours that kept him away from her and the kids and she loved him regardless.

Hours seemed to pass as he sat there. Kissing those pale lips and the soft forehead and stroking her smooth cheeks and holding her tiny hand. He was all alone during those final, heartbreaking moments. It was the way he'd wanted it. He needed the time to just be with her. With no one else around. No other CSIs running into one of the labs with test results or the phone ringing in the middle of the night or in the wee hours of the morning before the kids got up, calling him out to yet another crime scene and interrupting yet another intimate moment. It happened so often they both joked that they didn't understand how they even managed to get pregnant so many times when business never got finished. That time, sitting there in the hospital, watching the love of his life slowly and agonizingly slip away, was something he would never, ever forget as long as he lived.

And when her breathing became more shallow and he knew that the end was near and he gathered all the strength he had left in his weary, broken soul, he leaned in close, his lips against her ear and told her it was okay to go. That he'd be fine. That the kids would be fine. That she didn't have to hang on anymore. He didn't want to see her suffer anymore. She deserved better than that. That she didn't need to be afraid. That one day he'd see her again and they'd be together. But not yet. Not yet. Then he kissed her forehead and with tears streaming down his face,sat back and looked at her. Remembering that day nearly ten years ago when he did the smartest thing he'd ever done and asked her to be his wife. I love you, he said in the stillness of the room. I love you, Samantha. And then her eyes opened one final time and she looked right at him. He wasn't sure if she saw him or even heard him. But right before his eyes, a single tear drop rolled down her cheek. And then she was gone.

And now he sat again. On the edge of the bed that they had shared since early on in their relationship. The bed their children had been conceived in and they'd spent many long, amazing nights that were burned into his memory. For four days he'd avoided going in the room. He kept the door closed tight and didn't even cast a glance at it when he walked past. The room was exactly as it had been four mornings again. The bed unmade and wrinkled. Her night gown thrown hastily over the end post. She'd slept past the alarm and had gone running when the phone woke her up. Stella. Wondering why she was an hour late for her shift. He was off that day. And it had been his 4:30 a.m wake up call to her that she was late in the first place. He'd worked a double and had gotten home in the wee hours and when he climbed into bed and curled up against her warm body, she rolled over and buried her face in his neck and mumbled something in her sleep and her hands had found their way under the waist band of his boxer shorts.

She swore up and down while she was rushing around getting ready that she'd been asleep and hadn't realized she had even initiated sex and cursed him for making her so late. He commented that she woke up right quick when he started doing those things with his tongue that she liked so much and that he never heard a complaint or an objection come out of her mouth. And she'd given him that girlie little grin that wrinkled her eyes and her nose and leaned over the bed and kissed him and he told her he loved her and told him the same and that she would call him later .

Only when the phone rang less than an hour later it wasn't her. It was Danny. Choking back sobs and fighting to keep his composure.

_"There's been an accident, Flack," Messer had practically sobbed. "There's been a really, really bad accident and you have to come quick. They don't know if she's going to make it."_

She hadn't. And now he sat alone once again with the curtains drawn and the window closed, crying into her nightgown. Clutching it in trembling hands, pressing it into his face as he rocked back and forth relentlessly. It was the last thing she wore. The thing he'd peeled off of her in order to kiss every inch of the body he never got tired of. It smelled like her. And of him. Their two scents combined for one last time. It was the closest thing to having her there. He sobbed her name and cursed God and the bastard who took her away from him and himself for failing to protect her as he had promised he would all those years ago. And he would never forgive himself for that as long as he lived. And that he was never going in that room again.

* * *

Outside the world still turned and life continued on that quiet street in Flushing, Queens. The rain had stopped and the sun was bright and warm and the grass had begun to dry. Danny played on the front lawn with the four Flack kids. Three boys and one girl. All with nearly black hair and cornflower blue eyes and dimples in their cheeks. One had curly hair handed down from his uncle Adam. Not one inch of those kids didn't come from Flack. Not only the physical appearance, but the mannerisms and facial expressions and the Yonkers accent. The running joke was that it was damn obvious who the father was, but who was the mother? Not one of them looked anything like Sam. She used to say that she hoped they at least got her brains. The baby, a bouncy eighteen month old girl with all the curls and her mother's laugh had Sam's petite frame but the similarities stopped there. They were their father's children. The boys were even tall and strong with big feet and hands.

The baby, Mikayla, slept in a portable play pen underneath the shade of an elm tree. The six year old fraternal twin boys, Mackenzie and Daniel argued and bickered and pushed each other around, fighting over who got to stand where in their pick up game of soccer. Nine year old Kieran, Danny's god son, just shook his head and watched with utter disdain.

So much like his dad, Danny thought. That same look that got on Flack's face when he couldn't believe the bullshit coming out of some perp's mouth was now on the face of his nine year old so who couldn't believe that his brothers were such brats. Had it really been nine years since Flack had placed that eight pound infant in Danny's arms and Brooklyn had said, 'Meet your god son.'?

Brooklyn. Tears welled in his eyes. He blinked them back. He had a raging head ache from all the beer he'd had the night before on Flack's front porch. And from the powerful sobs he'd let loose into his pillow when he was all alone in the living room on the couch at three in the morning. He had held it together for Flack and all but carried his drunk, grieiving friend to bed. In the basement, Flack had insisted and became irate when Danny said it would be easier to get him up the stairs them down them. Then I'll fucking do it! Flack had screamed and pushed Danny away and staggered through living room and into the kitchen and down the stairs. How he got down there without falling, Danny would never know. But he never heard from Flack again after that and he'd bedded down on the couch and had himself a long, good cry.

"Uncle Danny?" Kieran kicked the ball towards him. He was the star athlete. Soccer. Football. Hockey. All the boys played hockey but he was the one that had the skills. The twins had called a truce and had moved to the garden bed Sam had kept empty for them to dig in. Searching for buried treasure. Something mommy had given them last week to bury.

"What's up, buddy?" Danny asked, using the side of his foot to pass the ball back.

"Do you think my mom's gone to heaven?"

Danny stopped the ball with his foot. Its the first time Kieran has mentioned his mother. At least to Danny. "I know your mom's gone to heaven." he replied confidently.

"How do you know?" he inquired.

"Your mom was a good person who had a big heart and loved everyone and helped a lot of people. And you know who she loved the most? You. You and your brothers and your sister and your dad. There wasn't anything she wouldn't have done or given up for you guys. You guys were her life. Her heart. God rewards people like your mom. And that's how I know she's in heaven."

"With Grampa Clint?" Kieran asked.

Clint had died two years ago. Went to bed one night with clothes laid out for the morning and a big to do list and never woke up. Brain aneurysm. Just like that. Boom. It had taken a toll on Sam. Almost six months pregnant and dealing with some heavy personal shit of her own. But she'd survived. She always did.

"I bet you that they're up there right now, looking down at us, having themselves a big old time." Danny said. "Taking care of each other. Just like old times."

Kieran smiled and nodded. He was silent for a long time, hands on his hips, staring up at the sky. "Do you think my dad's gonna be okay?" he asked. "Do you think he'll ever stop crying? Do you think that he'll be happy again? Out here, playing with us like he always does?"

"Your dad is hurting pretty bad, kiddo." Danny told him. "He's loved your mom a long time. He's having a hard time accepting that she isn't coming back. And the best thing we can do, is support him and give him time? Okay? 'Cause he misses her a hell of a lot and he's gonna miss her for a long, long time."

"I'm gonna miss her, too." Kieran said and tears spilled down his cheeks and tried valiantly to brush them away on the sleeve of his shirt.

Danny went to his god son and put his warm, strong arms around him and let the kid just cry it out.

"I miss her, uncle Danny..." he sobbed. "I miss her a lot."

"I know you do, kiddo." Danny said and stroked Kieran's silky black hair.

"I just want my mommy back."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut and willed his heart not to break.

Behind him, a car pulled up the curb.The ignition was shut off and he heard the opening and closing of the door, followed by the sound of women's heels on the sidewalk.

* * *

Carmen Santucci -she only used Devine professionally- hid her moist, green eyes behind a pair of sunglasses as she made her way up the driveway adjacent to that cozy two storey red brick house. She'd been there many times in the past six years, but never for something like this. It was always for birthday parties and Thanksgiving and Easter and Boxing Day celebrations. Always for things that involved a lot of laughter. And a lot of love. There was a lot of love in that house. A lot of happiness. This was a family that adored each other and lived each day to its fullest. And now? Now a very significant light had been extinguished. And she lost the closest person to a sister she could ever ask for.

She hadn't stopped crying in four days. Since she and Rick had gotten that call from Hawkes while they were vacationing in the Turks and Caicos. A second honeymoon, Rick had called it when he'd surprised her with airline tickets under her pillow one morning. They'd only been there for five days when Hawkes called. There'd been no doubt in their minds to head back. Although it had taken a ridiculously long time to get the airline to switch their tickets and find them an available flight out. Four days was a disgusting, pitiful wait. She spent that four days and the entire flight home the night before in a state of utter shock. Five days ago, Flack and Sam had drove them to the airport. They'd stood at that gate and said goodbye, see you soon. How was she to know that goodbye would be permanent?

Fresh tears flowed at the sight of Danny comforting the grief stricken child while his brothers played and argued innocently a few feet away. So pure. Old enough to know that mommy was gone but not old enough to ask for details.

"Auntie Carmen!" Mackenzie shrieked when he saw her coming up the drive. He raced towards her, quickly followed by his younger - by ten minutes- brother, both of them screaming her name happily. And soon she found herself enveloping those little bodies in big bear hugs and showering their grubby faces with kisses. She had never been fortunate enough to have kids of her own. But the four Flack kids made up for it.

She'd brought them each a stuffed parrot from the island. Even one for little Mikayla and Kieran, who would know doubt argue that at nine he was too old for that sort of thing but an hour later she'd find it on his bed. She'd almost left without getting them anything. Not that they expected gifts. She just liked buying them things. She gave the twins their souvenirs and they thanked her with more hugs and kisses and were on their way. They never sat still. She tucked another parrot into the corner of the play pen where that beautiful angel slept and she ran a hand over the baby's silky curls. Gonna be a heart breaker, she thought. Gonna torment some poor guy like her mother did to her father for so long.

"Hey, Danny." she greeted him with a soft smile. He simply nodded in return. Too choked up to respond any other way.

"How you doing K?" she asked her 'nephew' as he sniffled noisily and drew away Danny. Blue eyes wracked with grief.

He shrugged.

"I know its hard," she said, putting an arm around his shoulders and bending down so her face was next to his. "But I promise you, that it will get better."

"I miss her." he whispered.

"She misses you, too." Carmen assured her. "And believe me, there's nothing she wouldn't give or do to be here right now and make all of this better. She loved you very, very much. All of you."

"Why did she have to go?" he asked, turning pleading eyes on his aunt.

"She didn't go because she wanted to." Carmen said. "She didn't want to leave you and your brothers and your sister and your dad. But sometimes bad things happen to really good people and no one can explain why."

"I just want her back." Kieran begged. "That's all I want."

"We all do." Danny told him. "Why don't you go inside and bring out something for you and your brothers to eat and drink. Some snacks. Clean yourself up a bit."

Kieran nodded. Wiped his eyes and hurried across the grass to the front door.

"How are you?" Carmen asked Danny, hugging him tightly.

"Coping." he replied. "You?"

"Barely coping." she sighed. "Where's Flack?"

"Inside. Guy from the funeral home was just here about an hour ago. Making plans."

"How'd that go?"

Danny shrugged. "Flack wanted to deal with it the same way Flack deals with everything. Alone."

"He always was a stubborn ass in that respect." Carmen said. "How is he?"

Danny shook his head. "Not good." he said, voice barely a whisper.

"It'll take some time." Carmen reasoned. "Its a hell of a blow."

"Aiden all over again." Danny said.

Carmen laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm going to go in. See if he's up to talking."

"Good luck." Danny called after her as she journeyed up the grass and towards the porch where the twins were excitedly checking out that day's paper that had been rolled and stuffed in the mail box.

"Look Auntie!' Daniel exclaimed, holding it up for her to see. "Mommy's famous! She's in the newspaper!"

Sure enough, fair size colour photograph of Samantha Flack in her dress uniform graced half the front page. She was smiling brightly, those golden eyes twinkling. Carmen choked back a sob and ran a hand over that beautiful face she'd never see again. Above the picture, in big black letters, was the headline **NYPD CSI GUNNED DOWN IN BRAZEN DAY LIGHT ATTACK. **Below the picture, the caption read:

Detective Sergeant Samantha Flack, a ten year NYPD employee with the crime lab, was killed Sunday in an ambush on a crime scene in the Bronx. Internal Affairs is currently investigating why she was allowed into an insecure scene alone and what if any, actions will be taken against her supervisor. She is survived by four small children and her husband, well known Homicide detective Lt. Donald Flack Jr. Funeral arrangements are pending.

"Why's mommy in the paper?" Mackenzie asked.

Carmen smiled and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "Because she was an amazing, brave lady." she replied.

"Too me she's just mommy." Daniel said. "Can I go show this daddy?"

"You know what?" Carmen rolled the paper back up. "You stay here and I'll show this to daddy, okay?"

"Okay." he agreed and then he and his brother were off and running again.

Carmen sighed heavily, steeled herself and went into the house.

* * *

She found him in the kitchen. Sitting at the table in the chair by the window. Staring out into the backyard, twirling his wedding ring around his finger over and over again. Methodically. A matching ring, much smaller in size, hung on the thick chain around his neck. The nurses at the hospital had removed it from Sam's finger when she was taken to the OR. It had been around his neck ever since. An untouched, open bottle of beer sat on the table. Carmen wondered how many he'd had in the last four days.

She stood in the doorway and watched him for what seemed like an eternity. She didn't recognize the man that sat there. Unshaven. Pale and sick looking. All the sparkle gone out of those amazing blue eyes. This was not the Flack she knew and her heart ached for him.

"Don." she said simply. She rarely called him Don. Only on the occasions she was completely and utterly pissed at him or they didn't see eye to eye on a case. That happened often. No one called him Don really. It was always Flack. It was how he introduced himself to her that day ten years ago at her first crime scene. The only one that called him Don was Sam. And she was the only one he tolerated calling him Donnie. And on the rare occasion, Donald.

He didn't remove his gaze from the window. He didn't stop playing with his ring.

Carmen knew he was lost in thousands if not millions of memories of his wife and the life they had created together. And just when she was certain he didn't hear her and was about to call his name again, he finally spoke yet didn't divert his gaze. His voice was quiet. She barely heard him. But four simple words came out of his tortured lips.

"I'm glad you're here."

**Thanks to all the great reviews!**

**Aphina**

**Madison Bellows**

**bluehaven4220**

**Eddiesgirl**

**Lilymoonlight**

**I'm sure there's more out there. Please keep reviewing. And enjoying. Much more to come. Next chapter: back to Adam's apartment and a little Sam/Flack action. Just not how you expect.**


	9. Not as tough as she lets on

**I own nothing except for Samantha**

**Not as tough as she lets on**

"Miss independent

Miss self sufficient

Miss keep your distance

Miss unafraid

Miss out of my way

Miss don't let a man interfere, no

Miss on her own

Miss almost grown

Miss never let a man help her off her throne

So, by keeping her heart protected

She'd never feel rejected

Little miss apprehensive

she fell in love."

- Miss Independent, Kelly Clarkson

* * *

When he got that phone call, the one that would essentially, without him knowing it at the time, signify the beginning of his life, Flack had just gotten one foot in the door of his apartment. Literally. He'd just unlocked the door and stepped inside when his cell went off. He wasn't scheduled to be on call and had managed to get the necessary paperwork completed and sent off, so a call after an eighteen hour shift, particularly one that read UNKNOWN NAME UNKNOWN NUMBER was not a welcome or a pleasant thing. Especially when the person on the other end didn't answer the first two ties he said his name.

"Flack." he repeated forcefully, a little more than annoyed

"Uh...hi.." came that soft voice.

The second he heard it, his chest tightened and a weird fluttering sensation he'd never felt before cropped up in his stomach. He mentally gave himself shit for acting like such a love struck fool over a woman he'd just met and knew very little about. And it was a damn struggle to keep the happiness that she actually called him out of his voice.

"You... you know who this is right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Adam's sister." You fucking ass, Flack, he thought. Smooth. Very smooth. He closed his eyes and turned and banged his forehead off the door a couple times. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"I do have a name." she reminded him. Was she offended? Hurt? He couldn't tell.

"Sorry," he said. "Its just been a long day and my brain isn't functioning at a hundred percent."

"Is this a bad time?" she asked. "If it is, I can just wait until tomorrow and..."

"No." he interrupted her quickly. "Not a bad time. Not for you." Oh my fucking God! Did I just actually say that? he thought.

"Oh... okay... you said to call you if I needed anything, no matter how big or small it was, and well, I'm calling and I'm not exactly sure how big or how small this is..."

She rambled when she got flustered, Flack noticed. Just like Adam.

"..and I usually don't ask anyone for anything so this is a huge deal for me..."

"Miss indepenent... I noticed that." he said.

"I've had to be. But everyone needs something from someone sometime and you shouldn't be afraid to ask, right? But in no way does this make me in any way shape or form weak or less self sufficient. Okay?"

"Okay." he agreed, grinning.

"Because I hate people, especially men, thinking I can take care of myself.'

"So you're more than capable of handling yourself and no one can push you around. I get it. What do you need? 'Cause you've got me totally confused here. What were we originally talking about?"

"Sorry. I tend to ramble."

"I've noticed that too."

"Look... I know we just met and this may seem a bit weird to you..."

"Samantha, I'm used to wierd. Look what I do for a living."

She laughed lightly. "True. Please don't think I'm some needy, pathetic little thing."

"Never." he vowed.

"You seem like a decent guy and Danny said you always have his back whenever he needs it so I got this feeling that even though we haven't exactly worked together yet and we barely know each other..."

"You're rambling again." Flack pointed out gently.

She sighed. "I need your help."

"So you're actually admitting you need someone." he teased.

"Are you always this obnoxious?' she asked, but he could tell she was smiling.

"Are you always this stubborn?" he countered.

"1239 Vine street, apartment 605, Queens." she said and hung up.

He stood there and stared at the phone in his hand, a huge smirk on his face. Why was he getting the feeling that he was for one hell of a journey?

* * *

"Did you get lost?" she asked wryly a half an hour later when she answered the knock at the door.

"I've been up for twenty hours." he replied. "I didn't want to come over here in the same clothes I wore to work and smelling like shit."

"I'm sure you smelled great." she said and then blushed slightly.

Why the hell did he have to come over looking even better than he had earlier that afternoon? She didn't think things could get any better than a suit and tie. She was wrong. The guy filled out his jeans and a simple t-shirt better than anyone she'd ever seen. Holy shit, get a grip, girl, she thought and stepped back and held the door open.

"Thanks for coming," she said, as he stepped into the apartment. She closed the door and re-locked it. "Do you want anything?" she asked. "Coffee? Bottled water? Pop?"

"I'm fine." he said. "Thanks."

She smiled and he followed her through the cramped kitchen and out into the living room. She was walking with a slight limp and in some sot of discomfort every time her left foot touched the ground.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"The coffee table jumped up and bit me." she replied. "But don't worry. I exacted my revenge on the answering machine." she nodded in the direction of said machine that now lay on the hard wood floor. "It laughed at me and talked back so I taught it a lesson."

She plopped down on the couch.

"You deal with the perps like that too?" Flack asked, deciding to take the safe road and sit across from her on a ratty old love seat.

"I save the violent stuff for them." she replied. "What? Are you afraid I bite?"

"You do that kind of thing, too?" he asked.

"Only if you ask me to." she told him and stared him dead in the eye.

In all the years that he'd been on the job and sat across the table in stare downs with murderers and gang bangers and child molesters, he'd never been the first one to look away. So how was it that this tiny, fragile looking woman who looked barely old enough to be in college, left him feeling so vulnerable. And uncomfortable. He had to look away. Because if he didn't, he was liable to do something that would either be welcomed or earn him a punch in the face.

"Never thought I'd ever be in Adam's apartment." he said, looking around.

"Just be thankful you didn't come here two days ago." she told him. "You needed steel toe boots to walk safely through all the crap on the floor. A gallon of bleach and some pine sol did wonders."

"So you're a housekeeper, too?"

"I'm a bit of a neat freak." she admitted. "My mother even says I'm a little OCD about it."

"If my mother saw this place, she'd been telling me to either hire you as a maid or marry you."

"Well your mother obviously has good taste." Sam said and sipped a bottle of water. Trying her best to look everywhere else but at him.

"So..." he said. "This problem you're having..."

"Yeah...shit.. sorry. I get distracted easily. See where Adam gets it from? Anyway I was hoping you could help me."

"With?"

She leaned forward and picked up a piece of writing paper on the coffee table and held it out to him.

Flack took it and looked at it. "Zach Turner." he read aloud. "License plate number, make of car... for what?"

"He's this guy from Phoenix." she explained. "He was harassing me back there and he's one of the reasons I came to New York. To get away. And now I found out that's he's on his way here to find me."

"What kind of harrassment?" Flack asked.

"Obscene phone calls, threatening letters, sitting outside my house and my work. That kind of thing."

"You keep any of the letters?"

"I threw them out. I know. We're always telling women to keep shit like that. Talk about a case of the pot calling the kettle black."

"What kind of threats did he make?"

"The basic ones. You know. I'm going to hunt you down and beat the shit out of you. And worse."

"Is he dangerous?"

"He collects knives and guns. Not to mention he's a cop. So you tell me."

"How'd you find out he was coming here?" Flack asked.

"He told my step dad who in turn, called me."

Flack nodded. "And what is it you want me to do exactly?" he asked.

"Well, you are a detective, right? You can find out where he is. Stop him from coming here. Detect. Is that not what you do?"

"I'm homicide." he reminded her.

"Okay. So what you really mean is that I have to wait until he kills me first. Do you not have friends? Know someone that deals with these types of things?"

"Short of putting out an ABP on this guy and his plate number and make of car, there's not a whole lot that can be done here." he told her reluctantly.

"I'm not asking for a miracle here. Whatever you can do is fine, Don."

He stared at her. Very few people called him by his first name. His parents, mostly. And on the rare occasion Mac or Stella or even Danny. And hearing his name come out of her mouth, someone he barely knew, felt strange. Yet so right at the same time.

"What?" she asked. "Did I stutter? Speak in tongues?"

"You called me Don." he told her.

"Is that not your name? Or do you prefer Donald?"

"Everyone calls me Flack." he said

"Well I'm not like everyone." she informed him. "I'm not the last name type girl. Too personal."

"I wasn't aware we were getting personal." he said with a soft smile. "What type of girl are you?" he asked curiously.

She smiled as well, the bottle of water to her lips. "The type of girl you'll either never forget or wish you never met."

"I'll go with the first option." he decided. "I love a challenge. I'm that type of guy."

"You may live to regret it." she told him. "What other type of guy are you?"

"The type that breaks girls like you." he replied confidently.

"We'll see about that." she said. "Are you sure you don't want anything?I've got it all. Coffee, tea, bottle water, pop... pick your poison. Or are you in a rush?"

"I live a relatively boring existence. There's no where else I want to be." he bit his lip when he realized what he said. "Need to be." he corrected himself. "And water is fine. Thank you."

"Do I make you nervous?" she asked, getting to her feet.

"What?" he tried to laugh it off. "No. Why would you make me nervous?"

She shrugged. "You tell me."

"Nervous? No. A little uncomfortable? Maybe. You're just a little.. what's the best word? Forward. I've never met a woman like you."

"Well, if you're uncomfortable now, I guess its a damn good thing I didn't answer the dor in my bra and underwear, huh?" she laughed.

He just chuckled and shook his head. "You're something else." he informed her.

"You have no idea." she said and headed for the kitchen.

She had just gotten the water from the fridge, lost in her own little world. She hadn't heard him come into the room. And when she turned, she ended up face first in his chest. She jumped, startled.

"For fuck sakes, Don!" she scolded him. "Don't sneak up on people like that!"

"I didn't. I asked you if you were okay with your foot. You didn't hear me?"

"No. I didn't. I was thinking."

"I wouldn't worry about that guy. I'll find him before he finds you.'

She smiled. It wasn't what she had been thinking about, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Thank you," she said. "I knew I could trust you."

"I'm that type of guy, too." he said.

"What type?"

"That you can trust."

"You think I have trust issues?"

"I don't know." he said. "Do you?"

"If I didn't trust you, would I be standing here, this close to you right now? No. I would have kneed you in the balls and told you to get the fuck out of my apartment."

They were nearly pressed up against each other. Would have been completely if it wasn't for the hand she'd laid on his chest to prevent her from suffocating in his chest. He smelled so good. And his body was so warm and his muscles felt strong under her hand. And it had been a long time since she'd felt a warm body and breathed in someones scent and felt so secure and protected. Yet at the same time, while this felt so right and she couldn't deny how she felt about him, the thought about feeling that way about someone so quickly terrified her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking into those golden eyes.

"I have no idea." she admitted. "But its scary."

"What are you scared of?" he asked, pushing a piece of stray hair behind her ear, his hand resting softly on her face.

"I don't know. I just feel scared. I..." she took a deep breath. "I just don't want to get hurt."

"Physically or emotionally?" he asked.

"Both." she replied.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Flack assured her and leaned in closer to her. She was so petite, so short compared to his height, that it was quite the distance to bend.

"I can't do this." she whispered, their lips mere centimeters apart.

"Yes. You can." he assured her and kissed her softly.

There was a moment of resistance.Then she gave him what he wanted. What they both wanted. Her hand gripping the front of his shirt and one his hands on the side of her face and the other on the back of her neck. He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding hers, and suddenly he felt her completely stiffen up and she forced her way out of the kiss.

"I'm sorry." she said, voice barely a whisper. "I can't do this. I just can't."

"Samantha, I'm not going to hurt you." he promised.

"I'm sorry." she repeated and stepped back from him. "I'm sure you're a decent, stand up kind of guy that doesn't intentionally hurt women. And its not that I didn't want you to kiss me and that I'm not attracted to you. Because I am. That is't the issue here."

"So what is?" he asked gently.

"I barely know you, Don. We barely know each other. We just met like three hours ago. It can't be normal feeling like this so quickly. It can't be. Maybe I'm just still trying to deal with some issues back home and maybe you're lonely and we're just feeling these things because we both need somebody. But it can't be real. Feeling like this. Can it?"

"I don't know." he admitted. "Because I've never felt this way this quickly. I don't even know if I've ever felt this way period. All I know is that I wanted to kiss you. I needed to kiss you. And I'm feeling things that are pretty damn scary right now. But at the same time it feels right. I can't explain it. Its crazy. I mean, I like you. A lot. You're this amazingly attractive, intelligent woman. What's not to like? And I'd like to get to know you better and spend time together and all that other stuff that comes with it. Say something here. At least tell me you're feeling this way too."

"It's not that I don't like you." she began.

"Okay... that does not sound too good, Samantha."

"Please...just hear me out. Its not that I don't like you. I do. And I'm very attracted to you and I do want to get to know you better and spend time with you and all that, but this... what happened between us... I'm not ready for something like that. I liked it, don't get me wrong. I really like it. Its just that... I need some time to sort some things out before something like that can ever happen between you and I again. Things I need to let go off and deal with. I've got some serious baggage, Don."

"Don't we all?"

"No. I mean enough baggage to do me, you and half the city of New York. And I need to deal with all of that before I can let you, or myself, get in too deep. Because this stuff I have on my plate? Its not fair that you have to deal with it too. To be involved with someone that has all this shit going on."

"No offense, Sam, but I'm a big boy and I think its up to me to make that decision."

She sighed and put a hand to her forehead. "I'm not saying all of this to hurt you. I'm not. But I have to get rid of all of this crap before I can with you. Be with anyone for that matter."

"This baggage that you're talking about... Samantha, look at me..." he laid his hand alonside her face once more.

She took the hand away from her face and looked into those beautiful, honest blue eyes.

"Whatever that baggage is? I'm a big strong guy. I can help you carry it."

Tears welled in her eyes. "That is honestly the nicest, sweetest thing any one has ever said to me." she told him.

"You don't have to deal with it alone when you have someone willing to help you out."

"Its not fair to ask you to..."

"You're not asking," he cut her off. "I'm offering. There's a difference. I'd hate for Miss independent to have to swallow her pride and admit she's not as tough as she lets on."

She smiled and laid her hand over his. "Thank you... most guys would be out the door by now if they didn't get what they wanted."

"Well, I didn't come here wanting or expecting anything." he said. "And I'm not most guys."

"No." she admitted. "You're not. Thank God."

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Every thing will be okay." he assured her. "It'll all work out."

"I know. Do you think you could do something for me?"

"Another favor? You're pushin' it." he teased.

"Could you kiss me again?" she asked sheepishly. "Just a little one? Nothing major?"

"I can do that." he replied and placed a feathery kiss on her lips.

Behind them, the sound of keys in the lock captured their attention, breaking the small moment of tenderness, and when they turned around, there was Adam in the doorway to the kitchen. His eyes were wide and disbelieving.

* * *

"What the hell?" he spoke every word slowly.

"Uh... hi... Adam.." Sam said, surprised her was home early and a little embarrassed he'd seen what he had seen. "You're home early... why are you home so early?"

"Mac let me go because I'm pulling in too much over time." he explained. "Flack..."

"Adam..." the detective said in return.

"What are you doing here?" Adam asked warily.

"I needed some help with something and I called Don and he came over." Sam told her brother.

"So you two are on first names all ready." Adam looked between the two of them.

"Well, it is his name." Sam reasoned.

"I know that." Adam snapped. "Is there a reason why you two are in the kitchen looking like I caught you guys making out or something?"

"I better go." Flack said. "Let you two fight this one out."

"Thanks." Sam said sarcastically.

He smiled at her and laid a hand on the small of her back. "We'll talk more tomorrow." he told her. "I'll get someone on that info right away. Okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you, again. For everything."

He winked at her. "See ya tomorrow morning." he said and rubbed her back and then brushed past Adam as he left the kitchen. "Careful lab boy," he said from the door. "She's liable to kick your ass."

"You're funny." Adam called back. Waited until he heard the door close to turn back to his sister. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he nearly screamed at her.

She jumped. Startled by the aggressiveness in her brother's normally passive voice and face. "What? I needed some help with something and I needed someone who could handle it and he was nice enough to come over and help me and we were just.."

"I saw what you were just getting ready to do!" Adam exclaimed. "Gettin' ready to make out with him! With Flack! Flack of all people! You just met the guy! You don't believe in wastin' time, do ya?"

"Get a grip, Adam! I wasn't making out with anyone! It was a moment that happened between us and he kissed me and I kissed him back. That's it!" she turned her back on him and stalked out of the kitchen.

"But Flack!" Adam wailed. "I'd rather a stranger off the street! But who do you manage to pick? Flack!"

"And what is wrong with him?" she demanded to know. "What do you have against him?"

"I work with him! You work with him! I can't work with someone that's banging my sister! Especially someone like him!"

"First off!" Sam spun around and slapped her brother upside the head. "I am your sister and you're not going to talk to me like that! I kicked your ass as a kid and I'll kick your ass now if I have to! I have always treated you with respect and I damn well expect some back! Second of all!" she backed him up against the back of the couch. "Do I need to remind you that that man put his ass on the line to get your ass out of that warehouse? I don't know what you think you know about him, but apparently its not a whole hell of a lot! He's a nice, decent guy that is nothing like that prick Zack! Nothing! And third..." she jabbed him in the chest with her fingers. "I am not banging him. And if I was, that would be my business and not yours! Got it?!"

Adam swallowed noisily. "Got it." he managed.

"You've got your own personal issues, peanut." she softened her voice and backed off. "Start dealing with them before you get into mine."

"I'm just worried about you." Adam said.

"I know. But for the first time in my life, I honestly feel like everything is going to be fine. That things are looking up. And I want you to be happy for me and support me. Can you do that?"

He nodded.

She smiled, kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair and headed for her bedroom. "I'll be out in a while," she said. "I need to deal with some things."

The door clicked softly closed.

Adam prayed to God she knew what she was doing. And getting herself into.

**Thanks to all my fans. You guys know who you are. Next up: first crime scene!**


	10. Who left this dead body here?

**Once more with feeling: I only own what you don't know.**

**Who left this dead body here?**

"Son when you grow up, will you be the saviour of the broken

the beaten and the damned?

He said will you defeat them, all the demons and the non-believers, the plans that they have made?

Because one day I will leave you,

a phantom to lead you in the summer,

to join the Black Parade."

-Welcome to the Black Parade, My Chemical Romance

* * *

"Good mornin', Mac." Flack greeted as the boss of the crime lab stepped out of the Avalanche he'd parked in front of the luxury high rise in upper Manhattan. He nodded at Lindsay as she slipped out of the passenger seat. "Monroe."

"What are you so cheerful about?" Mac asked as he set the alarm on the Avalanche and stepped up onto the curb, he and Lindsay joining the young homicide detective under the gold and green awning of the Park Terrace condominiums. It had been a long time since Mac had seen a smile like that on Don Flack's face. A huge, boyish grin that showed off those dimples and made those blue eyes sparkle. In fact, Mac didn't think he'd ever seen Flack smile like that.

"I'm not allowed to be cheerful? Look at it out here. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, birds are chirpin'..."

"There's a dead body inside somewhere." Lindsay added rudely.

"Hey, nothing like a little blood and gore to start a day." Flack said. "And don't ruin my mood. Got nothin' pleasant to say, don't say anything at all, a' right?"

"And what may I ask put you in this good mood?" Mac asked.

"I need a reason? Maybe I just feel like being nice today."

Lindsay snorted. "Flack, you and the word nice don't belong in the same sentence. So what happened? Hooked back up with that little rich bitch Devon and get laid?"

"Don't insult me. I didn't hook up with Devon or anyone else. I didn't get laid. So I guess that makes two of us."

Lindsay glared at him.

"Okay, you two... enough." Mac said, trying hard to suppress a smirk. "Do I have to separate you two? Put one in one corner and one in the other? Play nice for a little while, okay? The scene's been secured? None of your guys touched anything?"

Flack looked offended. "How long have I been doin' this for Mac? I know not to let any one mess with your crime scenes. Wanna head up? I was just down here waitin' for you guys after I finished talking to the vic's boyfriend. I gotta say, he's not lookin' too good. He's right on the top of my suspect list so far. Didn't seem too choked up about the fact he walked in and found the woman he loves lying dead in a pool of blood. But you know me. Everyone's a suspect 'til you guys prove other wise. Should we go up?"

"Let's wait for Hawkes and Samantha. They got a five a.m. call out to that gas station hold up over in the Bronx. They were just closing it up when this call came in."

"Closing it?" Flack looked surprised. "How'd that happen so quick?"

"The perp dropped his wallet at the scene." Mac explained. "Angell tracked him down at his house and he still had on the same clothes the witnesses saw him in, the gun stashed half ass under the driver's seat in his car, and, get this, all the money sitting on the kitchen table."

Flack laughed and shook his head. "Wish they could all be that simple. Something tells me this one," he jerked his thumb at the building behind him. "Isn't going to be one of the simple ones."

"No optimism to go with your pleasant mood?" Mac teased.

"You're askin' for miracles there, Mac. So the new girl did pretty good the first time out, huh?"

"I'm not surprised." Mac said. "If you saw her resume and the cases she solved down in Arizona, actives and cold cases, you'd realize why I hired her as quick as I did. Like I told Stella, someone like that doesn't come around to often."

"Ain't that the truth." Flack agreed, but for entirely different reasons.

Mac checked his watch. "Lindsay, you might as well head up. They're running later than I thought. Talk to one of Flack's guys and get all the particulars and start taking over alls. Don't touch anything. Leave the scene and the body undisturbed until the others get here. I want them on the body and trace."

"I can hande taking the pictures and all of that, Mac," Lindsay assured him. "I've done it before."

"I realize that. But I'm the boss and I want you on over alls and the others on the body and on trace. After your done with that, you can help out wherever your needed."

"But there's someone new here now and usually the new person helps out wherever they're needed." Lindsay argued.

"Well the new person in question isn't just here to help out wherever she's needed." Mac informed her. "Now I asked you to go upstairs and start with the over alls. The rest of us will join you in a while."

Flack watched over his shoulder as Lindsay stalked off into the building, mumbling under her breath and not even acknowleging the elderly concierge that held open the door for her. "What's eatin' her?" he asked with a bemused smirk.

Mac sighed.

"Or should I say whose not eatin' her."

Mac fought back the urge to laugh at that. "Flack," he said. "that's crude. Even for you."

"She's been in one mood since yesterday. Gettin' dethroned from the new girl novelty status is just burnin' her ass something fierce."

"Especially when the new girl isn't one to be pushed around." Mac said "I heard about the little incident in the lunch room yesterday."

Flack shrugged. "It was no big deal. She got a little smart with her mouth and she got knocked down a peg. Didn't come to blows or anything like that. Although, if it had have, I don't think country girl woulda fared too well against a Brooklyn girl. So? What's up with you, Mac? You're lookin' rough today. Not sleepin' again? Thought that was behind ya since we nailed Drew Bedford for the 3:33 thing."

"I haven't been sleeping well in a couple weeks. Ever since Stella and I moved in together. She has a ... what's the nicest way to put this... this doesn't go any farther between you and Flack."

"Hey, I was the one you first told that there was a you and a Stella remember? Never told a soul."

"I cant sleep with that woman, Flack. I mean, I can... it's just that... its damn near impossible. She snores like a goddamn freight train."

Flack laughed. "Never pictured Stella Bonasara a snorer. Gotta get yourself some ear plugs, Mac. Or sleep on the couch."

"Maybe even both. You don't understand, Flack. She could wake the dead. Its brutal. And on top of everything else, I got an e-mail from Sinclair yesterday morning, giving me the go ahead to hire a second CSI."

"What's up with that? Finanical windfall or what? Guess they have more money than they thought to work with."

"They're reasoning is too much over time and not quick enough closures. Not to mention the already booming crime rate is sky rocketing lately. We're over worked and understaffed. We've been that way for years. They're just starting to realize I can only do so much with the scraps they've been throwing me. I've got a couple interviews today. Too be honest, only one of them stands out."

"Who's that?"

"This young lady Carmen Devine. Originally from Portland. Graduated from the academy the year after Danny. She even used him as one of her references on her resume. They went to college together. Not that she needed the references. Her resume and career jacket speak for themselves."

"What's going on with all these ladies, Mac?" Flack asked."Think it could be true? Think they really are smarter than us?"

"We are smarter than you," Sam said as she caught the tail end of the conversation as her and Hawkes came around the corner of the building, carrying their kits. "The whole damn lot of you actually."

"No one asked you." Flack said but he was smiling.

She smiled back. A small discreet one that neither Mac or Hawkes could interpret the wrong way.

"Heard about your guys gas station case." Flack said. "Very nice. Open and shut. Not bad for your first time."

"She was great." Hawkes praised. "We would have been here sooner, but we had a little incident on the way."

"An incident?" Mac asked. "What kind of incident."

"I couldn't get the truck to start." Hawkes replied.

"That's not the whole story." Sam chided him. "Tell them what happened, Sheldon.Tell them why the truck wouldn't start."

He sighed heavily and hung his head a little, scraping the toe of his shoe across the concrete sidewalk. "Engine wouldn't turn over because I had the gear in neutral instead of park."

Both Flack and Mac laughed.

"And it took him ten minutes before he realized it." Sam added. "I got to the garage and he was practically having a road rage incident and we weren't even on the road yet. I asked him what was wrong and he went into this huge thing about the engine being blown and all these other crazy idea. I looked over and there he had the gears all screwed up. And when I gently pointed out the mistake, he nearly throttled me."

"Something tells me you're not gentle about too much." Flack said.

"Well,' she admitted. "I can be a little rough. But only if someone wants me to be."

The tops of Flack's ears turned bright red and he cleared his throat noisily. "I think we should go upstairs now." he suggested.

"Good idea." Mac said, more than a little amused by the little exchange and a little curious as to why Flack got so flustered.

The concierge had gone to fetch a cab for a tenant. Flack reached for the handle on the door and pushed. Nothing happened. The door didn't open. He tried again. Still nothing.

Sam cleared her throat.

Flack looked at her.

She pointed to the word written above the handle. PULL.

"You bitch." he said with a shake of his head and a huge grin and he yanked the door open, holding it for her. "Get your ass inside." he snapped.

She laughed as she headed inside. "And you have the nerve to ask if women are smarter."

* * *

"Tamara Adams." Flack said, reading from his log book.

They stood above a semi nude female body in the living room area of the massive, ornate apartment with its marble floors and cove ceilings and gigantic gold and crystal chandelier that hung from the middle of the ceiling in the foyer. A white baby grand piano sat on top of a Persian rug in front of french doors that led out onto a balcony that boasted a stunning view of the Manhattan skyline. It all would have been lovely to see if their attention wasn't on the dead body sprawled in a pool of blood.

"Twenty eight. An ad exec with Wallace and Brown in mid-town. Boyfriend said he saw her alive and well at ten last night, and when he came home from night shift working in the research lab at Columbia, found her here like this. He's the one that called it in."

"Where is he now?" Mac asked, as Sam and Hawkes crouched down along side the body and opened their kits.

"Buddy of his showed up about half an hour ago. You think the gas station gas was wierd, get this. They had a tee off tie in Hoboken for ten they couldn't miss. Now how's that for love and concern. Girlfriend's lying here in a pool of blood half naked and he's out shooting a round. I tell ya Mac, I nearly knocked him out."

"Does he seem on the up and up?" Mac asked.

Flack shrugged. "Seems shady if you ask me. Now I got a few of my guys going door to door on this floor and to the neighbour below and the neighbour above. Apparently, an anonymous call went in to the super shortly after midnight. Something about a ruckus goin' on up here. Only when the super got here, silence. So he left."

"Possible skin under the finger nails," Samantha said, holding one of the dead woman's hands in her own and peering closely at it. "Bruising to the knuckles and cuts to the insides of the forearms. Defensive wounds."

"Definitely a sex assault." Hawkes sighed. He pulled out the thermometer he had inserted into the body. "Liver temp is 80.5. The cooling rate is 1.5 every hour. So we're looking at TOD approximately ten hours ago. Rigor and levidity confirm it."

Mac checked his watch. "Nine o'clock now. She's been dead since eleven."

"Which does not match up with the super comin' up here at midnight." Flack said. "He told me that the caller told him he heard a man and a woman fighting and stuff being thrown around the place. And look at this place. There's nothing out of the ordinary. All the expensive stuff is still here. That rules out home invasion and robbery. Not to mention the door wasn't broken in meanin' our vic new whoever did this enough to let them in here."

"And no one heard anything else?" Mac asked.

"My guys are still talking to the neighbours as we speak." Flack replied. "But so far, no one heard anything and they certainly didn't see anything. What else is new?"

"What about the boyfriend? His story check out?"

"I got a call in to his boss. Waitin' to hear back."

"All right... for now, keep on those canvasses. I also want you to talk to the super again and get all the security tapes for every possible entrance into this building. This is supposed to be a highly secure building. Let's just see how much so it is. You find anything else out, let me know."

"I always do." Flack said and left.

"Check this out Sheldon," Samantha said, as she carefully moved the dead woman's head to the side. "Look at this puncture wound. Its a slender, cylindrical shape. Its the only wound on her other than the defense wounds. Could it be deep enough to cause all this blood?"

"Let me see." Hawkes said and grabbed his flash light and took a closer look. "Quite possible our COD here. The wound appears deep enough to have hit the carotid artery. It supplies blood flow to the brain. Once that flow was cut off, she more than likely suffered a stroke and then bled out." he checked the eyes. "Petichal hemorrhaging. She definitely had a stroke. Sid will have to run a scan to see if it was severe enough to cause death or if she simply bled out."

"There's something wierd in the wound..." Sam leaned in the closer. "You see that? It looks like..." she reached back to her kit and grabbed a pair of tweezers and used them to pluck a small shard of burgundy plastic from the wound. "Its plastic." she said, and deposited into an evidence envelope. "And there's something in the cavity. Something blue."

Hawkes grabbed a swab from his kit and handed it to her.

She slipped it into the wound and swabbed the area.

"Looks like ink." Hawkes commented. "Trace will be able to tell us more about that and the plastic."

Sam sat back on her heels and wiped sweat off her brow with her forearm. She scanned the pool of blood with her eyes. Something just didn't seem right. How could there be that much blood but not trail whatsoever. Whoever did this could not have avoided getting blood on them. It would be impossible. She squinted her eyes and leaned low to the ground so that her stomach was mere inches off the floor.

"What do you see?" Hawkes asked as he finished bagging the victim's hands and prepared to get Mac to call the MEs office.

"A blood trial." she replied. "Someone tried to clean it up. I thought I smelled bleach when I walked in. I just thought it was a neighbour doing some cleaning."

Hawkes grabbed the spray bottle of luminol from his kit, a pair of amber eye glasses and his ALS light.

Sam slipped on her amber glasses.

"Shall we follow the yellow brick road?" Hawkes asked.

She smiled. "We shall."

* * *

The blood trail, while diluted by water and bleach, led out of the apartment and diagonally across the marble floor to the garbage room. They found more blood on the handle to the door and the one on the chute hatch itself. And one very nice partial print.

And now Mac, Samantha, Hawkes, Flack and Lindsay gathered in the hallway outside the garbage room.

"Our killer dumped something down the chute. Where does this lead to?" Mac asked.

"Dumpster in the first level of the underground parking lot the super says." Flack replied. "Someone needs to do a little dumpster diving."

"Hope you brought boots and a jump suit." Lindsay said to Sam in a sugary sweet tone that suggested she was anything but.

"I hope you did." Mac corrected her. "'Cause your the one heading down there."

"Me?" Lindsay exclaimed. "Why me? I did enough dumpster dives when I was new! For the last two years I've been the one doing them!"

"And your doing this one." Mac informed her.

"Dumpster dives are always for the new person, Mac." she argued. "And she's the new person."

"Mac I don't mind doing it," Sam said. "Really. No big deal."

"See!" Lindsay exclaimed. "She's even offering."

"And I'm telling her no and telling you to do what I tell you." Mac fought back. "I want Samantha and Sheldon in the apartment processing and I want you in the basement in that dumpster."

"I think maybe we should go." Flack suggested to Sam and Hawkes.

"Definately." Hawkes agreed and the three of them headed slowly back to the apartment. They wanted to hear the rest but didn't want it to be obvious they were listening.

"Mac, its always the new person's job to do the dumpster dives!" Lindsay argued.

"That isn't in any job description I know of. And this new person is way too valuable to have her shifting through garbage! Now you either get down to that dumpster and do what I say or you go back to the lab and sit in my office and wait for me to get back to write you up for insubordination! I am the boss here. Not you!"

"Mac's goin' all Marine." Flack said to Hawkes and Sam from where he stood in the doorway of the apartment. They had already gone back in to work.

"Does he do that often?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Only if ya deserve it." Flack said. He had to step up of Mac's way before the former Marine bowled him over as he stormed into the apartment.

"This is fucking bull shit." Lindsay grumbled to Flack.

"I'm not the boss, Monroe. Don't complain to me."

"Who the fuck does that girl think she is? Walking into the lab like she owns the place? And who the hell does every one think she is?"

"Apparently she's an amazing CSI." Flack said.

"If you ask me, she's a stuck up, self righteous little bitch that needs her ass kicked."

"Monroe..." Flack tried to remain calm. "I really don't want to hear this."

"Danny fawning all over her like she's all that. Shes not even that pretty."

"I don't know," Flack said, shaking his head and looking back into the apartment where Hawkes, Sam and Mac were beginning to process. "I think she's hot." he told Lindsay.

"You think anything that walks with a wiggle is hot, Flack." Lindsay snorted and stalked down the hall.

"Not true!" he called after her. "You ain't even on my top ten."

"Fuck you, Flack!!" she yelled.

He grinned and went back into the apartment.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked, as she searched the kitchen for the bleach and cleaning products that may have been used, dusting for prints and using her ALS light to search for trace as she went.

"Difference of opinion." Flack replied.

"She's pretty pissed." Sam commented.

"Being pissed and moody is second nature to her. You get used to it.Trust me. Wait until she throws one of her pity parties. Happens at least once a month. Always a good time had by all."

Sam sighed. "I don't think she likes me very much."

Flack shrugged. "No loss. There's lots of people who like you. Some more than others."

She felt herself blush.

"Do you care that she doesn't like you?" Flack asked.

She considered it. Then a huge smile covered her face. "I don't give a rat's ass." she replied.

"Good. Now get to work and stop flirting with me."

She laughed. "You wish, Flack!" she called after him as he left the kitchen.

"Yes..." he responded. "I do."

She shook her head and sighed and went back to work. It was going to be a long day.

**Thanks to all my fans!**

**Aphina: Carmen's on the way! Look out crime lab! LOL!**

**Lily moonlight: More team on the way. I promise.**


	11. A little rough sex never killed anyone

**A little rough sex never killed anyone**

"You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you

you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you."

-Closer, Nine Inch Nails

**A/N:Let's suspend belief like on the show and assume autopsies and all this testing gets done in no more than a few hours. I have to laugh though and share a little story: My son has a 'big brother' who is a cop that we met at a torch run for the Special Olympics. Anyway, he knows I'm a huge CSI:NY fan and I guess he thinks I'm stupid or something, 'cause he had the nerve to tell me and I quote: "You realize it takes longer than ten seconds to pull up a finger print in the system and way longer to than 45 mins. to solve a case." Yeah. I know. Which is why I just watch the show instead of ever doing the job myself. Short attention span. Then I told him I really only watch it to see Flack and Mac and I have a cop fetish. He hasn't stopped blushing in a week. Anyhow, back to the action.**

* * *

"Surprisingly enough, it wasn't the puncture wound that killed her."

Hawkes and Samantha stood on one side of the stainless steel autopsy table, listening and watching intently as Sid gave his expert conclusions on what had happened to Tamara Collins, who now lay before them, covered only in a blue surgical sheet, the top of the Y incision just poking out below her ghostly pale shoulders.

"While Dr. Hawkes was right, the wound was deep enough to cause significant damage to the carotid artery, it only caused her to bleed out. Your actual COD is a massive ischemic stroke..." Sid moved to a large high resolution computer screen and pointed out a dark, shaded area on a scan of the victim's brain. "because the carotid is the main artery that supplies the blood to the brain, when the wound was inflicted it caused both blood flow and oxygen flow to the brain to cease, causing the stroke. She bled out after death. A stroke that size, judging by the scan... she was dead within an hour, two tops."

"Which does not coincide with liver temp or levidity or rigor." Hawkes shook his head. "Just when you think you've got it figured out."

"I was able to estimate TOD sometime between midnight and three a.m. if that helps any." Sid said.

"That does go with what the super told Flack." Sam told Hawkes. "Sid, is there any plausible reason to why the liver temp would be lower than it should?"

"Most likely alcohol ingestion." he replied. "It would have to be far above legal limit. I already took the liberty of sending it up to the techs in tox. An the alcohol ingestion is a little bit of a stumpor for me considering she was with child."

"She was pregnant?" Hawkes asked.

Samantha just shook her head.

"Blood work and an obstetrical ultrasound confirmed it." Sid replied with a heavy sigh.

"Maybe she didn't know?" Sam offered.

"She was almost five months." Sid said. "Its highly unlikely she didn't."

"Any idea about the murder weapon" Hawkes asked.

"No clue." Sid replied. "But I did pull this..." he held out a small petri dish. "out of the wound. Looks like plastic."

"Same as the plastic we pulled from her at the scene." Hawkes observed.

"And I also noticed what looked like pen ink inside the wound." Sid added. "All of that, of course, is up to you two to find out. My best guess? You're looking for some kind of pen."

"Did we find a pen any where at the crime scene?" Hawkes asked Sam.

She shook her head. "Sexual assault?" she asked Sid.

"Positive." Sid replied. "I found substantial tearing to the vaginal wall and bruising to the inner thighs. I pulled a pubic hair sample and a semen sample and sent both to DNA. And here, is the clothing your victim was wearing." Sid handed Hawkes a brown paper bag.

"You're just right on the ball today." Hawkes said.

"I have to make a good impression." Sid smiled at Samantha. "Forgive me for saying this, but do you know who you look like?"

Sam shook her head.

"A mixture between Charlotte from Sex and the City and Jennifer Garner?" Hawkes suggested.

"Great minds do think a like." Sid declared.

* * *

"Hey Brooklyn!" Danny called out to the familiar face as she stepped off the elevator with Hawkes.

"I'll run this to trace..." Hawkes held up the petri dish. "and get started on our vic's clothes."

"I'll be there in a minute." Sam told him, then waited for Danny as he hurried up the stairs to catch up to her.

"Look at you." Danny said. 'Wearin' a badge and packin' heat. Ya swear you worked here or somethin'."

Sam grinned as they fell in step alongside of each other. "How's your Central Park stabbing coming?" she asked.

"Stella and I are running a couple leads but nothing substantial." he replied. "Heard about Mac goin' all Lieutenant Dan earlier."

"Who?"

"Lieutenent Dan. From Forrest Gump. Mac looks just like him. Haven't you ever seen that movie?"

"Yeah... but I don't really see the similarities."

"Looks just like him. Trust me. Look at Mac next time you talk to him. You'll see what I mean. So what was it all about?"

"I guess she was just upset that Mac told her to do a dumpster dive and she felt that it was the job of a new person." Sam explained. "Mac told her that he wanted me and Sheldon working on the apartment and her on the garbage and she got into it a bit with him. He put her in her place. And, from what I heard, she had a few choice words for me."

"To your face?" Danny asked.

"Are you nuts? I'll bitch slap her into the middle of next week. Where's Stella? I haven't seen her all morning."

"Runnin' around like a chicken with her head cut off as usual. Told me to tell ya you're the luckiest bitch ever born gettin' a first easy case like that. Said to meet her four o'clock in the lounge. She has some baklava with your name all over it. You're just Miss Popularity around here. Its like you've always been here."

"How did you people ever get along without the likes of me?" Sam teased.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Listen, seeing as we're on the same schedule and all, I was thinking maybe you'd like to do something this weekend. I play hoops with Flack and some other cops on Saturday morning but I'm free all afternoon. Ya want to check out a movie or just hang out?"

"What about Lindsay?"

"Don't worry about her. I'll handle her. We could maybe go down to Coney Island or hang out in Central Park. Whatever. You pick. Give us a chance to get to know each other better."

"Danny, I don't know if that's such a good idea..." she said reluctantly.

"Hey, I ain't asking ya to marry me. Just to hang out. As friends."

"Just friends?" she clarified.

He nodded. "That's it, I promise. No rushing anything else. Adam said you had some ex-guy issues and I ain't pushing ya into anything. Just friends. I swear. Scout's honor."

She frowned. "Were you ever even a scout, Danny?"

He grinned. "No." he admitted. "But I'm a man of my word."

"Okay... Saturday afternoon it is..."

"Great... I'll pick you up around one. You decide what you want to do. Anything. All right? I gotta run. Angell is waiting for me downstairs. Don't forget Stella."

"I won't." Sam assured him and then stopped by the reception desk to see if she had any messages while she was out.

"Excuse me, miss?" a soft voice from behind her asked. "Do you work here?"

Sam turned towards the voice. A pretty young woman with wavy auburn hair to the middle of her back, dressed stylishly in a pair of well tailored grey slacks and a soft yellow blouse stood before her. "I do." she replied. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Mac Taylor's office. The receptionist has been on lunch for a hell of a long time and I'll get lost if I venture out on my own in this place. Think you point me in the right direction?"

"Actually, I was just on my way nearby and I'll take you there myself." Sam offered her hand. "I'm Detective Samantha Ross."

The young woman shook the hand warmly and smiled brightly. "I'm Carmen Devine." she said.

* * *

Mac had been in the midst of a conference call with Sinclair and Mayor Bloomberg. Sam didn't know what it was about and had no plans on asking him later. Judging by the look on his face - that I'm going to jump out this window any second - kind of look, the topic of conversation was not pleasant and it was only adding to the obviously crappy day he was having. He saw the two women in the doorway and politely asked Sam to take Miss Devine and keep her company in the lunch room until he was done.

"So how long have you worked here for?" Carmen asked, as they sat on a comfortable black faux leather couch in the break room, sipping bottled water Sam had stolen from someones supply in the staff fridge.

She liked the pretty little CSI. The girl was bright and bubbly and quick on the ball with witty one liners or a sarcastic comment. Her girl next door looks and aire of innocence and youth allowed her to pull it off without hurting anyone's feelings. She was obviously well educated and confident in herself and her job without being conceited. But Carmen knew, possessing those exact qualities herself, that behind the cuteness and sunshine, was a girl you just did not fuck with. And she also knew, if she was to get the job, they'd have a hell of a wild time together.

"For about..." Sam consulted her watch. "Oh I'd say, five hours."

"Seriously?" Carmen looked surprised. "You just seem like you've been around for a while. The way you mingle with everyone and vice versa."

"I embrace other people easily. Or so my horoscope keeps telling me. But then it also keeps telling me I'm going to come into a great fortune and it hasn't happened yet so how reliable could it be, right?"

Carmen laughed. This girl was just too much. In a good way. Yes, they'd have a hell of an amazing time together.

"I was a cop back in Arizona." Sam explained. "A CSI for the last two years and I was with ESU and K-9 before that."

"Arizona? But your accent seems so..."

"Brooklyn?" Sam finished and laughed. "It is. I'm originally from Brooklyn. My mom re-married when I was a teen and we uprooted to Arizona because my step dad worked for American Airlines out of Phoenix. But I always missed New York and for reasons that I won't burden you with, here I am. What about you? Where are you from?"

"Portland originally." Carmen sipped her water. "I came to New York to go to college and then on to the academy. You know, Danny Messer, obviously."

Sam nodded. "He's a great guy. He calls me Brooklyn."

"Danny's that type. He always makes up nick names for girls he has crushes on. In college, he always called me red. Its a little thing he does when he likes someone I guess. Any way, I went to college with him and then on to the academy. Unfortunately, we didn't get to graduate together. Unforeseen circumstances. And I left Portland for reasons that I won't burden you with. It would take all day."

"This place seems to attract us damsel in distress." Sam commented. "Don't worry, everyone is really nice here. Well, maybe not everyone."

"If you're talking about the little thing with the badly done Posh Spice hair cut, I know who you mean."

Sam laughed. "That would be the one. She's a real sweetheart all right."

"Tell me about it. I asked her where Mac's office was and she told me she didn't have time for that shit."

"She's a bitch. A true and total bitch. And I've worked with a lot of them. Trust me. But her..." Sam shook her head. "I've been told you get used to her. Only time will tell."

"What about the guys here? Any decent ones?"

'"Oh yeah..." Sam nodded, grinning broadly. "There's a few that are mighty fine."

"Hey, Sam!" Hawkes came rushing into the break room. "Sorry to interrupt... news on the case."

"Carmen Devine, this is Doctor Sheldon Hawkes." Sam introduced. "Sheldon, this is Carmen. She's here for an interview with Mac."

"Doctor?" Carmen asked, shaking his hand.

"I was once the pathologist here before I decided a career change was in order." Hawkes explained.

"We're an ecceletic bunch." Sam told Carmen. "What do you have Sheldon?"

"DNA just came back on semen and the pubic hair and it matches DNA pulled earlier off the clothes Lindsay found." Hawkes answered excitedly. "It was match to sample in the national database. The boyfriend. Tyler Manns. Arrested four years ago and did eighteen months for domestic assault. And get this. Flack found out that Tyler went AWOL from work for an hour around the same time as TOD. He's bringing him in right now and wants you to meet him downstairs in interrogation with your kit."

"With my kit?"

"Its what he said. And he told me if you're going to have a cell phone, remember to turn the damn thing on."

Sam unclipped the cell from her pants and looked at it. Three missed calls. She had mistakenly put it on silent. "Oooops" she said and turned it on. "That's my one allowed blond moment for the day."

"And there's more." Hawkes told her. "That plastic we pulled from the vic matches the plastic Sid gave us. Adam ran samples on it and this plastic is very specific to expensive high end office pens. Which leads me to the next thing. It was ink in the wound. GC/MS confirmed it. Our murder weapon is an eighty dollar fountain pen sold only in three stores in mid-town and one of those stores has Tyler Mann on its special customer list."

"You're awesome, Sheldon." Sam declared. Her cell phone rang. "Detective Ross." she answered. "Yeah... I know, I know. I'm a dumb ass... I'm sorry I insulted you earlier on your lack of intelligence... I'm on my way down... keep your goddamn pants on, Flack... you know, that's sexual harassment." she hung up and jumped up. "I gotta go. I'm sorry Carmen. I wish we could have talked longer. Tell you what..." she grabbed a napkin from another table and the pen from behind Hawkes' ear and scribbled something down. "Here's my cell and home number. Regardless of what happens, call me and we'll hook up."

"Sounds great." Carmen took the napkin. "Thanks for chatting with me."

"No problem. It was fun. Good luck. See ya, Hawkes!"

Carmen and Hawkes watched as she hurried out of the room.

"She's quite the fire cracker, huh?" Carmen commented.

"She's somethin' all right." Hawkes agreed.

* * *

Flack had Tyler Manns in the interrogation room by the time Sam got down stairs. He was pacing the floor like a caged lion while a nervous and petrified looking young man with his unruly blond hair and in a pair of Dockers and gawdy Hawaiian shirt nearly pissed himself whenever Flack came within five feet of him.

Tyler looked relieved when he saw a woman walk in.

Flack noticed and couldn't resist riding the kid a little bit more. "Don't get too excited," he said. "she's the mean one."

Sam sat her kit down on the ground and took a seat across from the suspect. Flack sat down beside her, a stack of case folders and a pad of paper and a pen in front of him.

"This is Detective Ross." Flack said. "She's from the crime lab and she's hear to prevent me from kicking your ass."

Tyler shook nervously. "W... w... why am I here?" he stammered.

"You're here because of her." Flack pulled an autopsy picture from the top folder and slapped it down on the table for the kid to see. "Remember her? Tamara Collins? Your girlfriend? I know she might be a little hard to recognize seein' she's all dead like that."

Tyler flipped the photo over, face down, with shaky hands. "Why are you showing me that? What's wrong with you?'

"You don't seem too choked about the fact your girlfriend was murdered." Flack continued. "My boys having to pick you up in the golf course, tippin' back a few. Usually when you commit murder, especially when its your girlfriend, you feel a little bad about it afterwards."

"I told you this morning... I don't know what happened to Tamara."

"Well let me tell you something, Tyler. You're lying. About a whole lot of things actually."

"Look... I have no idea what..."

Flack slammed both hands down on the table. "Cut the shit, kid!" he yelled. "This morning you told me that you were at work the entire night. The security bar on the back of your access card shows me that you swiped in at ten thirty and back out again at one a.m. You didn't come back for an hour!"

"I went on a break." Tyler said.

"Where'd you go?" Sam asked. The calm, composed one.

"Down the street. All night coffee shop. I just didn't see a reason to tell you all that."

"You see anyone there?" Flack asked. "Talk to anyone that can vouch for you?"

"The cashier was the only one there."

"We want the name of that coffee shop." Sam said.

"Yeah.. of course..."

"Now we ge to the biggest lie," Flack said. "The one where you kept saying you had nothing to do with this. Why'd you kill her Tyler?"

"What...?"

"Detective Ross here is a scientist. She has all these crazy, high end tests that confirm to me what I already knew. One, you're a liar. Two, you're a murderer. So let's start with the fact that your hair, pubic and other wide, were found on Tamara's body. Along with your semen inside of her that matches perfectly to the DNA sample in the national data base for when you got collared for knocking someone around a bit. And I bet you that if we run your print against one we found at the scene, that's gonna match to. your skin was under her fingernails. So what happened? She tell you about the baby and you freaked out 'cause you're not ready for that? She fight back? Get a little violent?"

"No!" Tyler aruged. "It wasn't like that! We loved eachother. We wanted the baby!"

Flack was pacing again, this time along the wall behind Tyler Manns chair. "So?" he asked. "You kill her just for the hell of it?"

"I didn't kill her!" Tyler insisted.

Sam removed another photo from the file and slid it across the table. "These are your clothes, Tyler." she said calmly. "And that's your girlfriend's blood on them. We found them and a pair of bloody running shoes in your building's incinerator."

"I have no idea how they got there." he said.

Flack leaned over the kid's shoulder, his face mere inches away from Tyler's. "Maybe its because you killed your pregnant girlfriend and then dumped the clothes. Listen to me. Your hair. Your semen. Your skin under her nails. Now your clothes with her blood on them. Why don't you start telling us why you did it."

"I didn't do it."

"Then you gotta a hell of a lot of explaining to do, kid." Flack said and returned to his seat. Leaning back, he put his hands behind his head and his feet on the table. "And we've got all after noon to wait for you to get your head out of your ass and start doing just that."

"Look..." Tyler sighed heavily. "I can explain the hair and the semen and my skin. We had sex. And Tamara... she liked it rough. Real rough. She was into the really crazy, kinky stuff. You know like..."

"We don't need those kinds of details." Sam interrupted. "Tell us how the skin got under her nails."

"I can show you." Tyler said to Flack. "My back... want me to show you?"

Flack looked at Sam. She nodded.

"Get up." Flack instructed, standing up and going around to the back of Tyler's chair and yanking it away from the table.

Tyler stood up slowly.

"Take off your shirt." Sam said.

He stared at her. Then looked at Flack.

"Just do what she says." Flack told him.

Tyler cleared his throat noisily. Embarrassed.

"What?" Sam asked."Are you shy? Trust me kid, you don't have anything I haven't seen before."

Tyler sighed and pulled off his shirt to show them his back. Fairly fresh, deep red gouges across the skin.

Sam opened her kit and grabbed a pair of gloves and swab. She snapped on the gloves and Tyler's eyes widened. "I promise this won't hurt." she assured him.

Tyler looked at Flack. "Do I really have to?" he asked.

"Buddy, just be thankful she didn't tell you to drop your pants and cough." Flack replied.

Sam swabbed the scratch marks and motioned for the kid to put his shirt back on.

"Give us the name of that donut shop." Flack said and grabbed the pen and paper and slapped them down in front of Tyler.

The kid nodded and started writing.

"Detective Ross and I are going to check out this place." Flack told him. "We're also gonna see if your girlfriend's DNA is in those wounds." he gathered up his papers. "In the meantime, make yourself comfortable. You'll be here a while."

"Where do you keep your fountain pen, Tyler?" Sam asked fro the door. "The expensive one."

"In the desk in the den. Top drawer, left side. Why?"

She didn't answer as Flack opened the door.

"It was just rough sex." Tyler called to them. "I mean, rough sex never killed anyone."

Flack shook his head and closed the door as he and Sam stepped out into the hallway.

"Do you believe him?" Flack asked.

"He's right about the rough sex. It doesn't kill anyone. I mean, I'm still here and I'm a huge fan of it.

Flack smirked. "I'm going to try to pretend I never heard that."

"Why? May come in useful for you soon." she couldn't resist the urge to tighten and straighten his tie.

"You're going to be the death of me, aren't you." Flack said.

"Maybe... but at least you'll go happy." she turned to walk away.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I'm going to go back to the crime scene." she replied.

"What am I suppose to do?" he inquired.

"Drive me."

He smiled.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Don. And while you're at it, take me out to lunch. I'm no good to you if I'm starving and wasting away." she headed down the hall.

He stood watching her, hands on his hips.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked.

Flack shook his head. "You're something else, you know that?"

She smiled. "Is that a complaint. Come on. I'm starving here. If you're a good boy, dessert's on me."

"Woman, why is it every thing you say I turn it into something perverted?" he asked.

"Maybe because I meant that comment to be pervert."

They stared at each other down that hallway. The look passed between them could burn bridges.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked and turned and walked away.

"I'm right behind you." he said.

**Thanks to Aphina for the crime!**

**ENJOY!**


	12. Of love letters and charm bracelets

**I only own Sam and the Flack kids. Carmen is graciously on loan from Aphina**

**Of love letters and charm bracelets**

* * *

"Holding you, I'd held everything

for a moment wasn't I the king

but if I'd only known

how the king would fall

hey who's to say,

you know I might have changed it all.

And now, I'm glad I didn't know

the way it all would end

the way it all would go.

Our lives are better left to chance, I could have missed the pain

but I'd have had to miss the dance."

-The Dance, Garth Brooks

* * *

"You've got to get a grip, Flack." Carmen said quietly, as they sat, both wrapped in blankets to ward off the chill in the night time air, on the top step of the deck in Flack's backyard.

She'd insisted on the blankets. It was just way too brisk out there once the sun went down for him to be sitting out there in just a t-shirt and a pair of Adidas athletic shorts and bare feet. She knew she sounded like a nagging mother, and she saw that look he gave her when she walked out there with the blankets and two cups of coffee. That you've got to be fucking kidding me look Flack was well known for. She wasn't sure if it was because of the way she was attempting to baby him or because he wanted to be alone. But when he didn't tell her to get lost long after she sat down beside him, she realized it probably wasn't the latter. And even if he had have put up a fight, she would have continued to sit there anyway.

She had made a promise and didn't intend on breaking it. Even if it meant he broke her soul in the process. If he called her every name in the book or told her to get the fuck out of his house and never come back. In the end he'd understand. He'd realize that everything she did or said here on out was for him and those four kids sleeping soundly and innocently in the house. And one day maybe he'd even admit he'd needed her.

_"Carmen, if anything ever happens to me, I need you to promise me something." Samantha said, as they sat on this very step a little over a year ago. _

_It was early evening and the sun was just beginning to set in the distance, casting a pale orange glow over the spacious, well landscaped back yard with its wooden jungle gym and sandbox, bicycles with training wheels collapsed onto their sides on the grass and soccer and basketballs strewn about. It was a house with boys, no doubt about. Loud boisterous boys whose laughter spread like wildfire and you could still hear long after they'd settled down for the night. Pity that one little girl who had to grow up in all of that madness. Daddy's little princess. Two things were for certain: she had three very protective older brothers who'd stop at nothing to keep her safe, and that if she was, God willing, anything like her mother, she'd be the biggest handful of them all. _

_It had been a particularly trying day. For two days they'd been on the hunt for whoever killed a young mother of three little kids. Someone had broken into the house in the middle of the night and raped her and slit her throat as she lay in bed while her husband, a member of the FDNY, had been working the graveyard shift. A neighbour called police when someone started banging on her front door at three in the morning, a tiny little voice crying for help. The four year old had gotten up for a glass of water and had gone into his mother's bedroom to wake her up. Now he was next door sobbing that he couldn't wake up mommy and covered in blood. _

_In the end, things had come back to a jealous co-worker of the mother's that couldn't stand the fact she'd rejected his advances and decided to exact revenge. The husband had been a wreck from the time Flack and Carmen spoke to him just after delivering the bad news. His wife had been his everything. His rock. It was the first time Carmen had ever seen Don Flack get choked up over a case. She would never forget the tears that threatened in those blue eyes as they listened to that burly, macho firefighter re-live the last moment she'd spent with his wife. The words that they had shared. And she realized than that Flack was most likely living vicariously through this distraught man. Going through in his own mind what it would be like if he'd lost Samantha._

_"Sure," Carmen agreed, sipping a steaming cup of tea. Flack and Rick were in the house, wathing the Rangers and having a couple beers while the kids slept. "What is it?"_

_"If anything ever happens to me, I need you to promise me you'll take care of Don."_

_"Quit talking like that." Carmen scolded her, feeling a chill travel down her spine. "First of all, nothing is ever going to happen to you. Not on my watch anyway. And second of all, Don's a big, strong guy. He can take care of himself."_

_Samantha shook her head, those usually vibrant golden eyes dark and sullen as she stared into the distance. "You don' t know him like I do, Carmen. No one does. And if anything ever happened to me, I honestly don't know what he'd do."_

_"Probably drink himself into a stupor." Carmen said, attempting to lighten the mood._

_"I worry about him. All the time. I've spent nine years of my life worrying about him. And they've been the most wonderful, amazing nine years of my life and I'd live every second of it over again in a heart beat. But being married to a cop isn't easy. You know that. And I thought it would be easy being in the same line of work. But you still lie awake at night waiting for that phone to ring or from that knock on your door and you worry that he's going to walk out the door and never walk back in. All this time I worried about how I'd ever cope without him and I never considered what he'd be like without me."_

_"He'd be a basket case." Carmen told her. "You know he would. You and those kids are his entire world."_

_"Which is why I need you to do this for me. To promise me this. That if anything ever happens to me, you'll help him get through it. He's stubborn and can be a real pain in the ass and he'll fight you every step of the way. But you're the only one I trust with this. I need you to promise me you'll help him cope and that you'll help him heal. Because he'll need it. Trust me. Promise me, Carmen. You have to promise me."_

_Carmen heard the urgency in her friend's voice. Saw it in her eyes. "I promise you." she said sincerely. "But who will help me me cope? If anything happens to you, who will get me through the dark times? You're like a sister to me, Samantha. Who will see me through?"_

_"You and Don will help each other." Sam said. _

And now here they sat, on a crisp spring night, the stars sparkling and the half moon glowing in the black velvet sky. A string of soft white Christmas lights wrapped around the railing of the deck and the kitchen light on behind them the only illumination.

Two people sitting together yet never more alone. Carmen had agreed to stay for a few days to help with the kids. Rick had understood and said he'd be over when he got a break in his job. Stella had a family of her own and a crime lab to run. Life went on, as cruel as it seemed. Hawkes was overworked at his teaching position at NYU and Alexis was struggling to balance crime fighting with mother and wife hood. Erica was still in Atlanta. Danny had told her to stay at her parents with the kids until he heard anything definite regarding burial plans. Stella had expected him back at work yet he still cammped himself out on Flack's living room couch. That left Carmen and her promise. A promise to the woman that had been like a sister to her. Who she shared laughs with and cried tears with and shared in immense joy and tremendous sorrow with.

And now she was gone.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Flack asked, a confused, troubled expression on his face. "Get a grip?" Its the most words he's spoken since she got there the day before.

She'd managed, after a valiant struggle, to give up the beer in favor of eating some food and clean himself up and get some decent sleep. If you could call thrashing around on the basement sofa a decent sleep.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear right now and I'm not saying it to hurt you," Carmen said quickly. "But those kids in there. They need you. They need their father. Right now, you're all they have. They just lost their mother..."

"And I just lost my wife." he angrily pointed out.

"I know. But Jesus, Don. You're all they have.You're the only parent they have left. They need to know that they can come to you when they're feeling sad and they need to cry and rant and rave. Because those kids are hurting and they need you. They need their daddy and Danny and I can only do so much."

"I'm hurting to, Carmen." he informed her. "And maybe that makes me sound like a selfish fucking bastard but its the truth. I hurt too and I need someone that I can go to when I'm feeling sad and I need to cry and rant and rave. And who do I have? My parents? My dad hasn't come here once or even called me on the phone in the last five days and all my mom can do is make lame fucking excuses for him like she has all the pitiful years shes been with the sonofabitch. The one person I had to listen to me and make everything feel better is gone. She's gone and she isn't coming back. So who do I have? No one."

''That's not true, Don." she said quietly. "You have Danny. And you have me. Here I am. And if you want to rant and rave and cry and go somewhere to lick your wounds, that's what I'm here for. For you. And for those kids."

He sighed and hung his head a little. "I already told you that I'm glad your here and doing all of this."

"I don't want your thanks, Don. I want you to get a hold of yourself for the sake of those kids. They're relying on you."

"How do I do that, Carmen?" he asked, his voice quiet and filled with emotion. "How do I get a hold of myself when I feel like I'm going to go insane?"

"Talking to someone is a good start." she said.

"I'm not like that. I never have been."

"Well," she said, sipping her coffee. "maybe this is a good time to change your ways."

"Maybe." he agreed and stared down into the coffee mug. "I miss her." he said after a long silence.

"I know." Carmen said, untucking an arm from her blanket to rub his back soothingly.

"A lot." he said in a hoarse voice and wiped at his moist eyes. "I just never thought... I don't know. I always thought it would be me that something happened to in the field and she'd be the one getting that phone call and saying goodbye and doing all the planning. Never in a million years did I think it would be her. And part of me... part of me actually believed we'd make it 'til we were old and grey and havin' grandchildren."

"You would have." Carmen assured him. "But fate had other plans and no one ever said life was fair or kind."

He nodded. " Greatest day of my life was the day I met her." he declared.

Carmen smiled. "Despite all the grief she gave you and how hard she made you work?"

Flack managed a small laugh. "Despite all of that. All of that was worth it. Every minute. Every second. I wouldn't give up any of those moments I had with her."

"She sure didn't make it easy on you. Sure was a feisty little brat, wasn't she?"

"She was..." he said with a nod. "No one will ever know how much I love her. There's no words to describe it. And I'll always love her. And I'm just glad..." tears slipped freely down his cheeks. "I'm just glad I got there in time and that I could sit with her and hold her hand and tell her all the things I didn't say enough in the past ten years. And I hope she heard them."

"She did." Carmen assured him, brushing away her own tears.

"And I'm just glad that she wasn't..." he took a deep breath to compose herself. "I'm just glad she wasn't alone. That she wasn't in any pain and she didn't suffer and she wasn't afraid. And I hope she forgives me."

"Forgives you? For what?"

"Not protecting her. She always told me that I was the only one who ever made her feel safe and secure and protected. And I let her down."

"Is that what you think?" Carmen laid a hand on the side of his face and made him look at her. "Is that honestly what you think, Don? You think you let her down?"

"I promised her I'd never let anything happen to her."

"Don, no one knew something like this would happen. We couldn't have seen this coming. But she was a cop. A damn cop one at that and she knew the risks this job entails and she accepted that. What happened was in no way your fault. And if she was here right now, she'd be kicking your ass for saying something so stupid. And we both know how terrified of her you were."

"I wouldn't go that far." he said with a small smile.

"She loved you and you made her feel safe and protected. She always told me that. And you know what else she told me?"

He shook his head.

"How she loved you the minute she laid eyes on you but thought it was funny to watch you struggle."

"She said that, huh?"

Carmen nodded.

"Damn Brooklyn girls." he said and sipped his coffee.

"You will get through this." Carmen promised him.

He sighed. "I know. But right now it hurts really, really bad."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, staring up at the stars and the moon, letting the breez dry the tears on their faces.

It was Carmen that spoke first. "I have something to give you."

* * *

It was sealed in a wrinkled envelope Carmen had kept for nearly ten years. She had gone home after she and Rick had gotten back from their trip and dug it out of that safety deposit box she kept in the rear of the bedroom closet. And now Don Flack held that letter in his trembling hands as he sat at the kitchen table. Carmen sat across from him. Watching.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked, looking down at his name on the front of the envelope in writing he knew all too well.

"Samantha gave it to me." she replied. "The morning of your wedding. She asked me to keep it and give it to you in case... well, just in case."

He just nodded and carefully tore open the envelope and pulled out the neatly folded note. He took a deep breath and unfolded it.

_Don, _

_If you're reading this, it means I'm no longer here. My heart breaks because of that and I want you to know that I didn't leave because I wanted to, but because something greater had other plans for me. I want you to know that I loved you the moment that we met that day outside of the crime lab. There wasn't a time that I didn't love you, despite all my misgivings and all my fears and all my doubts and insecurities. You are the only person I ever totally trusted. Who I could give my whole heart to and know that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. You are the love of my life. The father of my children. And you have given me more love in our tie together than I ever felt in the years before I ever met you. I will miss you forever. I will love you forever. And every day I thank God for the day that you were born._

_Love, _

_Samantha_

Once again the tears flowed heavily down his face and he folded that letter up and slipped it back into the envelope.

Carmen reached out and took his hand.

"Thank you." he said simply.

She smiled.

"And now I have something for you." he told her.

* * *

She sat minutes later holding a small black velvet jewellery case in her hands. Not having any clue to what could be inside. She turned her curious green eyes on Flack who stood at the other end of the table, watching.

"Go ahead." he urdged. "Open it."

She flipped open the lid and her breath caught in her chest and her eyes filled with tears. There were no diamonds or pearls in there waiting for her, but something that meant more than all the riches in the world. A sterling silver charm bracelet from Coney Island that was over a decade old. With a little heart dangling from it that had BEST FRIENDS inscribed on it. It had been a lark really. They'd been down there, having girl time on a rare day off and they'd spotted someone selling cheap jewellery on the board walk. It was Sam who spotted the bracelet. Two of them actually, and thought it would be fun to get them.

Carmen had went along with it. It was tacky and more than a little corney but the sentiment was there. They'd gotten close quickly. Shared each others deepest, darkest secrets and never told another soul. Gossiped mercilessly about the other people at work. Talked endlessly about the men in their lives and how badly Sam wanted things to work out between her and Flack. That charm bracelet had meant more to them than any other possession they owned. Both had kept them on their key chains for the longest time before putting them away in a safe place for times that needed remembering.

And this was one of those times.

"Do you still have your's?" Flack asked.

Carmen nodded and held the bracelet in her hand and ran her thumb over that little heart. "At home. Put away." she replied, sniffling noisily, unashamed at the tears that felt.

"She'd want you to have that." Flack told her.

"Thank you." Carmen said, and then he was comforting her. "I loved her..." she sobbed into that strong, warm chest. "I loved her so much... and I miss her and I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry, Don."

"I know." he assured her and stroked her hair. "I know."

* * *

The next morning, after all the tears had been shed and were long dried, Don Flack seemed as if he'd begun to make a turn around. He was still in a state of deep, massive grief and the occasionally rage of guilt and blame and anger haunted him, but he was on the long road to recovery.

Carmen stood at the kitchen window, sipping a cup of tea and planning what to make for a late breakfast as she watched Flack and Danny out in the yard playing with the boys. The kids were laughing and shrieking as they chased the soccer ball around and got a kick out of 'beating' daddy and uncle Danny. Even Kieran seemed to be smiling a little more. Although he was a long way from being the same kid he was only a week ago.

Mikayla was in her high chair. Entertaining Carmen by smashing banana in her face and shampooing her hair with oatmeal and babbling away happily.

"You are so much like your mother." Carmen declared when she tried to clean the baby's face and got a wail of protest in return. "You are... you're just like her... mouthy."

The doorbell rang. She scooped the baby up and carried her on her hip as she headed from the kitchen and through the living room, weaving through toys as she went. Probably someone else delivering flowers, Carmen thought as she unlocked the dead bolt. This place has more flowers than the florist themselves. Or maybe one of Flack's guys wives bringing by food or things for the kids. She pulled open the heavy door.

Instead of finding someone on the other side of the screen with a Tupperware container or an arrangement of flowers in their hand, there was a middle age man dressed casually in jeans and sneakers and a windbreaker. His short curly hair just beginning to go grey.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He appeared a little bewildered. He took a step back, looked at the numbers by the door, then at a piece of paper in his hands, then at her. "I'm looking for Donald Flack Jr." he said. "Do I have the right place?"

"You do. I'm just a friend from work helping out for a while. Can I ask who you are? Are you a friend of Don's?"

"You could say that. I was his training officer when he was a rookie. The name's Gavin Moran."

Nice little hanger for all of you!

**Aphina:**lol! Sam's definitely a tease! But Flack loves it!

**Bluehaven 4220**: hope you loved this one too! My fellow southern Ontario-an (is that even a word?)

**Maddison Bellows**: I'm glad you liked the end of the last chap. I thought after the whole interrogation it would be nice to break it up at bit with something funny. And yeah, I like to think of her as strong and independent and witty. But its nice to see she does need him

**Eddiesgirl: **I hope you enjoyed this! More Monroe bashing to come!

**Lily moonlight:** I hope you liked the previous team stuff. Much more of that in store!

**Shanevanson:** thanks for your message yesterday! Hope to hear from you!

**laplandgurl:**my fellow Canuck! I promise the George Canyon comes soon!


	13. How rumors start andpart one

**How rumours start and friendships begin: Part One**

"I heard that you were talking shit

and you didn't think I would hear it.

People hear ya talking like that, getting everybody fired up

So I'm ready to attack, gonna lead the pack

A few times I've been around that track

So its just not gonna happen like that

Because I ain't no hollaback girl

I ain't no hollaback girl."

-Hollaback Girl, Gwen Stefani

**WARNING: USE OF PROFANITY AND HEAVY MONROE BASHING LATER ON. PLEASE, TO ANY D/L FANS, WHILE I APPRECIATE YOU READING, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM SENDING ME HATE MAIL. I DON'T LIKE LINDSAY AND THIS IS MY STORY. SORRY.**

* * *

Danny sighed heavily and pushed up his glasses to rub at his weary eyes. He was in the lay out room, beginning the slow, methodical process of inspecting that morning's victim's clothes for any sign of trace evidence. He was tired. Another night of sitting at Lindsay's place, listening to her go on and on about some bullshit that had happened to her years ago in Montana.

He felt sorry for her. He really did. But the more she dwelled on it, the more she tortured herself and the more she kept up her Jeckell and Hyde personality changes. And the more grief she put him through if she thought he wasn't showing enough concern or compassion. What was he suppose to do? Coddle her like a child? He'd already offered to get her some kind of counselling to deal with it all. He'd even offered to go with her. That only pissed her off even more. Dealing with Lindsay's moods was like handling a live grenade. Each day you never knew what to expect when she walked into work and you held your breath every time you said something in fear it would offend her.

Its not suppose to be like this, Danny thought. When you care that much about someone and they supposedly care about you, its not suppose to be so damn hard and a struggle all the time. He'd given up on using the word love. He didn't love her. Not in the way she wanted him to anyway. It was too hard to love someone when they were as volatile emotionally as Lindsay was. Sure, he'd said those three words that night on the pool table. He'd been nearly completely wasted and had been lonely and desperate for some kind of intimacy for so long that he would have said anything she wanted him to at that point in time. So he did.Dumb move on his part. Because he'd been paying for it ever since. She held it over his head, used it against him. He'd always been there for her when she needed someone. And that was a hell of a lot.

But where was she when he needed someone? Where was she when he was hurting over little Rueben and wanted nothing more than a warm pair of arms around him, a soft voice telling him it would be all right. That the guilt and anger and grief would subside. But she wasn't there. She was off being Lindsay.

Flack had been there. As usual. He was always there when Danny needed him. He'd put his ass on the line that day with Rikki. He should have taken her in there and then on the stolen gun charge. But he didn't. He'd trusted Danny enough to handle it, to make his own decision. The best decision. That was the thing about a friend like Flack. He always had your back whether you were right or wrong. The type of friend that backed you in a bar fight and when you're sitting in a jail cell after wards, looks at you and laughs and says what a hell of a great night it had been. That was the kind of guy Flack was. He didn't judge you or look down at you. He accepted you as you and that was that. He didn't ask a lot of questions and didn't expect a lot of answers either. And he didn't expect any thanks. He went about his business quietly and unassumingly. A beer as a token of gratitude was enough for Flack. Danny only hoped if it ever came down to it, he could be that kind of friend in return.

Back to work, Danny thought and yawned noisily and reached into the paper evidence bag to begin laying the clothes on the table in front of him. I just need a couple hours sleep and I'll be good. Or maybe even an extra large, extra strong coffee to give me a boost. 'Cause this is just right bullshit feeling like this.

"How's it going, Messer?" Angell asked as she breezed into the room.

"No I don't have any results back yet and yes, I'm working as fast as I can." he replied without looking up.

"All I wanted to know was how it was going." Angell said. "Don't get bent out of shape."

"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm exhausted and things are going slowly and not too surely. I'm just gettin' to the clothes now 'cause they got a full house downstairs and they're short staffed. As usual. Any news on your front?"

"Nothing since we last talked. I was hoping that you were going to tell me that you got a hit off that print we found at the scene." she said hopefully.

"Sorry. Its a partial. Palm at that. I've got it runnin' through AFIS now and its gonna be a while. I'm not makin' any promises."

"Smile, Danny." Angell cajoled him."Life's not that bad."

"Life isn't, but work is. Or at least the environment."

"Still havin' girl problems?"

"Yes and no." he replied.

Angell arched an eyebrow quizically.

"Lindsay is still being Lindsay." he explained. "But what else is new, right? Everything goes great for a couple months and then it all goes to shit again."

"This is why I live by my old saying, never dip your pen in in the company ink."

"Yeah? So than what was that whole trying to get Flack into your ink incident?"

"None of your business, Messer. Back to Monroe. Someone needs to give that girl some serious prozac. No one can be that bummed all the time. Could they?"

Danny shrugged.

"Maybe its all an attention getter." Angell reasoned.

"Maybe... and she's lookin' for that since Brooklyn started here. Its only the first day and Linds is already got her undies in a bunch."

"Brooklyn?" Angell inquired.

"Samantha. Adam's sister. I call her Brooklyn 'cause its where she's from."

"Oh come on, Danny." Angell laughed.. "You call her that 'cause you're gonna put the moves on her."

He grinned. "That is so not true."

"Mm-hm...'

"Okay... so maybe I am. I can't help it. She's damn cute. The point I'm trying to make here is that Lindsay is in state 'cause there's the new girl takin' her place. She even got into it with Mac this mornin' 'cause he asked her to do a job and she felt it was for a new person."

Angell nodded. "The dumpster dive. I heard."

"Word travels fast." Danny said and unfolded a red and black plaid flannel shirt that smelled of body odour and just plain filth.

"This place is worse than high school, Danny." Angell said.

"This is just foul." Danny complained, grimacing and attempting to breathe through his mouth to spare his senses the putrid stench. "So what do you think of her?" he asked, grabbing a piece of clear sticky tape and concentrating on the left arm of the shirt first, peeling away any fibers or trace that may be there. "You worked with her this morning."

Angell shrugged. "She seems all right to me. Stands up for herself. She's got a bit of a temper. Dry sense of humor. Little smart with the mouth but that's okay. She's the female Flack."

Danny laughed. "Exactly."

"I'm a little surprised, Danny. You're usually drawn to the vulnerable, wounded, rescue me type. You'd have your hands full with that one."

"I always did like a little excitement in my life." he reasoned. "Asked her out."

"Yeah?" Angell sounded surprised. "You work quick. What did she say?"

"We're gonna hang out on Saturday."

"You don't waste time."

"Wasted enough on other things." Danny said.

"As long as your happy, Danny, that's all that matters." Angell told him. "Listen, I have some leads I need to chase down. I'll give ya a shout if I hear anything. You do the same, all right?"

"All right... I'll be right here." All day, he thought wearily and set to work.

* * *

Angell was on her way to the elevator when Lindsay managed to catch up to her. The CSI was returning from tox with the blood results on Tamara Collins and looked madder than hell about the state of her day. Angell had already decided she wanted no part of the Danny and Lindsay insanity that had managed to take over the lab in the short span of six months. There was enough soap opera antics and issues going around at the precinct without getting involved with lab gossip.

"Hey, Angell." Lindsay greeted her grumpily. "Got a sec?"

"Not really Monroe. I'm kinda running behind here." Angell hoped that she at least sounded pleasant.

"It will just take a second. " Lindsay assured her. "I promise."

Angell sighed and tapped a finger to her watch. "Make it quick." she said firmly. "The clock is ticking and I've got a lot of ground to cover. What's up?"

"I kinda need someone on my side here. And I was hoping that maybe..."

Angell interrupted her. "If this is about the new girl, I want nothing to do with it."

"Everybody likes her." Lindsay lamented.

"'Cause she's an amazing cop." Angell informed her. "And she seems nice and funny and down to earth. Doesn't hurt that she's so easy on the eyes either."

"All the guys are tripping over themselves trying to get her to notice them!" Lindsay fumed. "All of them! I just don't understand it! She's not all that. And she's got an attitude problem. I had to do a dumpster dive because of her!"

"Because of Mac." Angell corrected her. "Last time I checked, Mac was stil callin' the shots around here."

"He said she was too good to waste on a dumpster dive! Can you believe that shit? That he wanted her processing with him and Hawkes, not digging through trash. What the hell is that about? We all have to do the crap ass jobs once in a while."

"And I'm sure she's done her fair share." Angell said. 'What's the issue? All this 'cause you got a dressing down from Mac? Big deal. Try getting one from Gerrard in front of the entire precinct."

"She's a fucking bitch!" Lindsay raged. "I can't stand her! Walking around here like she owns the goddamn place! Like she's fucking Queen shit or something! Watching all the guys waste their time and make fools out of themselves!"

Angell just couldn't take it anymore. And even thought she knew what she was about to say would certainly cause the shit to hit the proverbial fan, she just could not stop herself. "Guess is not too much of a waste of time." she said "Danny managed to score a date with her.'

Lindsay stared at Angell in disbelief. "What?" she managed through a shaky breath.

"Shoulda treated her better Monroe. He's moved on. Rightfully so. You can't string someone along and pay with their feelings like that. A guy can only take so much. Guess he felt he was wasting his time on you and moved on to something better."

"Who told you this?" Lindsay hissed. "About him asking her out?"

"He did. Don't believe me? Ask for yourself. I gotta go. You had your chance, Monroe. You blew it. I guess its true. You don't really know what you have until its gone."

Lindsay stared daggers at Angell's departing back.That fucking little bitch! she fumed, stomping down the hall. Messing around with my man! I'll get that little bitch if its the last thing I do!

She stopped dead in her tracks just down from Mac's office when she saw Mac and the young auburn haired woman she'd been off hand and rude to earlier, step out of his office, bright smiles on their face as they exchanged a handshake.

"See you bright and early tomorrow, Carmen." Mac said. "Welcome aboard."

Carmen turned to leave and saw Lindsay looking on in shock and horror.

"See ya tomorrow, sunshine." Carmen told the girl from Montana and winked and headed for the elevator.

I am completely and utterly screwed, Lindsay thought.

* * *

The fountain pen was not where it was suppose to be. They'd gotten to the apartment at a quarter after one and immediately went to the roll top desk in the den. Nothing but the empty leather case.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Flack asked, snapping a pair of latex gloves onto his hands.

"A pen." Sam handed him a picture printed from the computer from the case folder she'd brought along. "The store e-mailed Sheldon a photo of the exact pen they sold Tyler Mann two months ago. Only difference is the color. This one is green. We're looking for a burgundy pen. An eighty dollar fountain pen to be exact."

"Eighty dollars for some plastic and some ink?" Flack asked, shaking his head. "And honestly, who the hell uses a pen to kill someone. I've seen some pretty weird shit made into weapons, but never a pen. Whether it be worth eighty cents or eight hundred dollars."

"Whatever does the trick." Sam figured and began rummaging through the desk, shoving papers out of the way. "I'm more a traditional weapon kind of girl." she said. "You know, guns, knives. The predictable, violently brutal shit."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Flack asked. "You seem like the violent type."

"Some people get off on that stuff." she informed him. "I didn't realize you were so fragile."

"Hey, as long as you don't pull out an ice pick to drive into my brain stem, you can do whatever you want with me and to me." he told her.

She smirked. "I'll have to remember that. Where's that fucking pen!?"

"You got a foul mouth on you for a girl." Flack told her.

"Hey, I'm from Brooklyn and I work in a male dominated profession. I have language that can make a drunken sailor blush. You're very sensitive Detective Flack. I can't talk about sex or violence or swear. What kind of fun are you?"

He smirked when she intentionally bent over in front of him to give him a clear view of her ass. And it was a hell of an ass. Keep professional! he heard Mac scream in his head. Mac didn't mind the office relationship thing if you were able to keep things separate. Professional on one side, personal on the other. Never the twain shall meet. But it was damn hard.

"I'm the kind of fun that will make you forget anyfun you ever had before me." he told her confidently.

"Yeah?" she smiled, up to the challenge. "We'll see about that. Now are you going to help me search or are you going to stand there and stare at my ass all day?"

"Isn't that answer obvious?" he retorted.

"Focus, Don! Focus! Must find the murder weapon!" she yanked at the bottom drawer of the desk. It wouldn't budge. Locked. She reached into her hair, pulled out one of the bobby pins she wore and stretched it out with her teeth. "Stand back and watch the master at work," she said when she noticed the perplexed expression on Flack's face. "Trust me... this works every time..."

"Why do I feel like I'm watching someone commit B and E?" he asked, as she stuck the bobby pin in the lock on the drawer and wiggled it back and forth.

"So sinister." Sam said and continued to work on the lock. "Come on... come on... rat bastard..."

"That is never going to work." Flack said.

No sooner did he get the words out of his mouth, there was a faint click and a victorious smile spread across her lovely, youthful face.

"What was that you just said?" she asked. "Can you repeat that?"

He sighed in defeat and shook his head.

"Never doubt the woman, Don. Ever."

"What? They teach you that in Arizona? How to pick locks with bobby pins?"

"I learned the technique when I used to break into cars when I was living in Brooklyn." she said.

He stared at her.

"That's a joke. I was just joking. When I was in college, I locked myself out of my dorm room more than a few times and taught myself how to do it." she opened the drawer and shone a small flashlight inside. "Besides," she added as she began her search. "I sucked at grand theft. I could never get the ignition to start. Hold this?" she asked, holding out the flashlight.

He took the flash light and cast the beam into the drawer. She was in front of him, the drawer between them, on her knees as she searched thoroughly. Her head was directly in line with his belt buckle. He swallowed noisily and forced himself to look anywhere but at the back of her head.

"Focus, Don!" she said, when she heard him swallow and noticed him shift awkwardly. "Get your mind out of whatever dirty place its been in all day and keep it on the job."

"Just to give you the heads up, that guy from Arizona? No word on him so far. I've got his picture and description of his car and licence plate number at every toll coming in to New York. No one's seen him. Yet."

"Thanks for doing all that. You must have some serious connections."

"A few." he admitted. "So... this guy... who exactly is he?"

"Just some guy I wouldn't give the time of day to and he couldn't accept it." she lied. She hoped it wasn't an obvious lie. She just wasn't ready to get into the details of her trouble past engagement. Especially with Flack. And especially at work. "He was no important and he couldn't accept that he never would be. Then he started harassing me and calling me all the time and the other basic stalker bullshit."

"You ever file a complaint?" he asked, hoping he sounded more curious and less like he was fishing for information. Something just wasn't adding up. Coming all that way after a woman just because she wouldn't go out on a date with you or return your call? No way. There was more to it and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Even if it killed him to hear the truth.

"I don't know what IAB is like here, but in Phoenix, they don't know their ass from their elbow. I figured I could handle it on my own."

"And when you couldn't you just packed up and came here." he concluded.

"Pretty much."

"So what kind of cop is he? Detective? ESU? Narco? What?"

"State trooper actually." she said.

"How'd a girl from the crime lab ever meet a state trooper?" Flack asked. "Paths must not have crossed much."

"A friend of a friend's boyfriend." she explained. "She asked me to go out with him, thought I might like him. I didn't. End of story."

"So he wasn't your boyfriend or nothing like that." It was more of a statement than a question.

"It was one date." she sounded irritated. Flack didn't know if it was because he was asking so many questions or because she was pissed the search wasn't going so well. "And one date does not make a boyfriend." she added, moving to another drawer on the desk and rummaging through it. "He was just a guy." she assured him.

"Same way as I'm just a guy?" Flack asked.

"You're different." she replied.

"How?"

"Because I actually like you. A lot." she admitted. "And I... do we really have to talk about this at work?"

"No." he said and was silently for a few moments. "But how about I take you out to dinner Friday night after work and we can attempt to talk about it then?"

She smiled up at him. "Detective Flack," she said coyly. "are you asking me out on a date?"

"I guess I am." he replied.

"In that case, is it casual, dress up?"

"Non-casual. I'm not exactly the beer and wings on a first date type. That's more like the second."

"And what makes you think there'll be a second?" she asked, eyes sparkling up at him.

"'Cause your nuts about me all ready. Admit it."

She smiled and sat back on her heels and wiped sweat from her forehead. "Its not here." she said in disappointment. "If Tyler killed her and wanted to cover his tracks, he would have just put the pen back. He told me where to look for it. No murderer proclaiming innocence is going to tell you where to find the murder weapon."

"So what are you thinkin'? The real killer tossed it?"

"We already looked in all the garbages earlier. Either he took it with him, or its here somewhere. Somewhere," she sighed heavily. "This place is huge. It could be any where. I say we start in the living room. The actual scene of the crime and work from there."

"I say I get a couple uniforms to catch the other rooms." Flack said.

"That's the best thing you've said all day." she said with a wink and left the room.

* * *

She thought of all the places an object as slender as pen could end up in the living room. Where someone might stash it as they left. The list was endless. Then she remembered the defense wounds on Tamara Collins' hands and forearms that suggested she engaged the attacker. It was plausible after she was stabbed and the killer removed the pen from her neck, she lashed out and knocked the pen out of the perp's hand.

Samantha stepped back and put a visual together in her mind of the attack. If that theory were true, then Tamara would have been down on her back with the killer leaning over her. The wound suggested a right handed attacker. If the pen was knocked away, it would travel to the right and back.

What was to the right and back? The white leather couch and an antique, cherry wood display cabinet that went straight to the floor. Nothing could get under there.

Samantha grabbed her flash light and laid on her stomach in front of the couch and cast the beam under neath. "You dirty little bastard." she said a loud and slipped her hand between the couch and floor. And came up with the pen. That had a cracked tip and blood still present.

"Gotcha." she said.

"Anything?" Flack asked as he came out from the kitchen.

She grinned broadly and held up the pen.

"You're amazing." he declared.

* * *

"Adam!" Sam rushed into the trace lab, calling her brother's name. "I need you!"

"Nice to be needed." he said and pulled himself away from the microscope he'd been peering into for the last half hour.

"I need you to run this right away." she tossed him a cotton swab with blood on the end of it.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Tamara Jenkins' blood. Or at least I think. I need it confirmed."

"Your girl that was stabbed in the neck with a fountain pen? But I thought Flack had the boyfriend in custody and he looked good for it?"

"He did. At the time. And it still might be him. I won't know until Sheldon gets a hit off the finger print we pulled off the pen I found at the scene. This is huge Adam. Can you? Will you? Please?"

"Not a prob." he assured her.

"You're the best!" she gushed and pecked his cheek and went to leave.

"I heard about you and Danny." Adam suddenly called to her.

She double backed. "Excuse me?" she asked, eyes narrow.

"That you guys are seeing each other. I have to admit, I was really surprised. You know, considering you and Flack in the kitchen yesterday made it look like it was you and Flack and not you and Danny."

"Whoa...back up a second. Seeing each other? Me and Danny?"

"Its okay, Sam. If you think you're ready this soon for a relationship, I will not stand in your way. You were right, what you do or who you do is none of my business. And while I'll worry and show concern, I will respect your wishes and mind my own."

"Danny and I are not seeing each other." Sam defended herself.

Adam regarded her skeptically.

"We're not!" she remained adamant. "We're friends. He asked me if I wanted to hang out on Saturday and I said yes. Where the hell did you hear the idea that I was seeing Danny?"

"Well, its a long chain of people really. Mary in ballistics told Craig in tox and then Craig told Allison in the lay out room ad Allison in turn, told Kendall while they were on break together and Kendall told me. She thought I already knew."

"And where did Mary whoever the hell she is hear this shit?"

"Apparently, she over heard Lindsay ranting to Stella and..."

"Lindsay." Sam mumbled and hurried from the room.

"You didn't hear it from me!" Adam called after her.

* * *

"Hey, Flack." Angell greeted him as he entered the precinct just as she was leaving. "Heard the new girl found the murder weapon. She's having a hell of a first day, huh?"

"She's been pretty lucky so far." he agreed.

"Did you hear about her and Danny/"

Flack's eyes narrowed. "What about her and Danny?" he asked warily.

"He asked her out. I guess they're hooking up on Saturday. Good for him."

"Where'd you hear this?" Flack tried to hide both the surprise and the anger in his voice. Danny Messer, you are a complete and utter bastard, he found himself thinking once again.

"Danny. If you ask me, its about time he moved on from Lindsay." Angell commented.

Flack turned on his heel and headed back out the door.

"Where are you going?" Angell asked.

"To the crime lab." he replied. To kick Danny Messer's ass, he added silently.

* * *

Sam stormed into the locker room. A futile ten minute search for Lindsay Monroe had turned up nothing. It was one of the lab techs that had squealed in the end, saying that they had seen the girl from Montana head in to the change room. Something about spilling something on her shirt during an experiment. All Sam heard was locker room and that was it. She was on the war path and no one or nothing was going to stop her.

Lindsay was at her locker, just doing up the last button on her shirt when someone grabbed a hold of the locker door and slammed it shut. She found herself staring directly into the irate golden eyes of Samantha Ross. The look in those eyes caused Lindsay's stomach to knot and perspiration form on her brow.

"Look, Monroe..." Sam slammed her hand on the locker to keep it closed when Lindsay attempted to open it. "If you want to talk shit about me, have the fuckin' balls to say it to my face!"

"Listen..." Lindsay attempted feebly. "I don't...'

"You call me a stuck up self righteous bitch. You tell people I have an attitude problem. What? You didn't think I'd find out? My brother works here. And everyone knows my brother. Of course it would get back to him. I don't know what kind of crap the girls back in Oklahoma or North Carolina or wherever the hell it is your from are willing to put up with, but the girls in New York don't tolerate this high school sophomore bull shit!"

"Sam, I was just upset that Mac acted the way he did at the crime scene. It was nothing personal against you."

"Do I look like fucking stupid, Monroe?! You're just upset that I dethroned you from your new girl pedestal. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I thought I was better than you. Truth is, I am. I'm damn good at my job and Mac respects that. And second, you're pissed because Danny and I are getting close. But Danny and I aren't seeing each other. He's cute and he's really nice and funny, but I have no interest in him other than a friend. I'm just hanging out with him. And if you treated him a little better, you wouldn't have to worry about other women."

Lindsay just stared at the irate CSI.

"Now I'm going to make this short and sweet for you Monroe. Keep your mouth off of me or I will knock you into the middle of next week. There'll be two hits. Me hitting you, and you hitting the floor. Got it?"

Lindsay nodded.

"If you play nice, so will I. Let's make working together and with the rest of them team as pleasant as possible for everyone. Okay?"

"Okay." Lindsay agreed meekly.

"Don't fuck with me Monroe." Sam warned her and left the room.

She hadn't gotten ten feet from the locker room when she saw Flack coming off the elevator. He spotted her as well and walked briskly towards her. Looking just a little pissed off.

"Oh God what happened?" she asked. "Please don't tell me something got screwed up with the case."

"Something got screwed up all right." he replied. "You seen Danny?"

"Not in the last few hours. Why?"

"Angell just told me you and him are seein' each other."

"What the fuck?" Sam nearly screamed. "How many people did Lindsay tell this bullshit too?"

"So its not true?" Flack asked hopefully.

"What?" she looked at him incredulously "You actually thought it was true?"

"I just thought that was the reason you got all bent out of shape when I kissed you yesterday." he explained. "I thought maybe you were making something up because you didn't want to hurt my feelings by saying it was Danny you were interested in."

"You can not be serious. I am not interested in Danny. He's trying to be my friend and I am trying to be his friend! That's it! He asked me out and..."

"He did ask you out though." Flack frowned.

"As a friend." she stressed. "To hang out. That's it."

"But you're not interested in him." Flack needed clarification.

"Are you hearing the words coming out of my mouth?" she asked, aggravated. "I am not interested in Danny." she slowly pronunciated every word.

"But he's interested in you." Flack concluded.

"Oh my God..." Sam put her hand to her forehead, exasperated. "What is wrong with the people in this place?" she asked. "This place is like a fucking three ring circus. One more time. Danny asked me out. I said I just wanted to be friends. End of story."

"Okay... so what about me?" Flack asked. "You just want to be friends with me, too?"

"Don, we are not having this conversation here. I've already told you that I need some time before I can get into anything with you. I just got here and I need to get my bearings and work some stuff up. I need a few days. To tidy up this crazy Atlanta cop thing. By Friday, things should be solved. Can you do that? Give me until then?"

Flack nodded. "I'm sorry if you think I'm pushing you. Its just because of the intensity of how I feel about you. Feeling this way, especially so quickly? Its new to me."

"Its new to me, too." she said. "and that's why I need this time. Okay?"

"Okay." he agreed. "But I'm still gonna tear Danny a new one."

"He has no idea what happened between you and I yesterday or how we feel." Sam defended her friend. "He just asked me out. No big deal. Okay? Leave it alone. It was just a rumor started by some jealous immature little bitch who..."

Adam came rushing out into the hallway. "Sam! Flack!" he called when he spotted them and sprinted down the hall. "Glad I caught you guys. I just got two separate blood donors off of the blood on the swab. First one was our vic, Tamara Collins. Second was this guy." he handed Flack a computer print out of a mug shot.

"Jefferey Tanner." Flack read off the paper. "Did time for a sex assault he committed back in '03."

"Which is how we got lucky finding him in the system." Adam said excitedly. "Now get this! This is the best part right here. You guys are gonna love this..."

"Adam." Sam said gently. "Just spit it out."

"His previous address is where Tamara Collins lived. He moved out eight months ago. And guess where he moved to."

Sam shrugged.

"I give." Flack said. "Where?"

"To the apartment below Tamara Collins. She filed a complaint with the NYPD that he was harassing her. Only it was never followed up because the cops said there wasn't enough evidence to charge him with anything. And you think that's strange? This is where it gets really good."

"Adam!" Flack snapped. "Take a breath, buddy."

Adam did just that. "Hawkes just called." he said. "That print on the murder weapon? It belongs to Jefferey Tanner."

"I'm on it." Flack told Sam and walked away quickly. 'Meet me downstairs in half an hour. If I'm running behind findin' him, I'll call. You remember how to use your phone, right?"

"Very funny, Flack." she called after him and watched him board the elevator. She turned back to her brother who was watching her with a weird grin on his face. "What?" she asked.

"So it is you and Flack." he said, nodding.

She glared at her little brother. "Adam..." she said, a warning tone in her voice.

"I'll shut up now." he said and went back into the lab.

* * *

Jefferey Tanner. Thirty eight years old. Advertising agent with Wallace and Brown. The same agency Tamara Collins worked at. He was tall and lenky with red hair he wore in a brush cut and vibrant, defiant green eyes. The first thing Sam noticed when she sat down across from him was the small puncture wound on his right palm that had traces of blue ink around the edges.

"Tell us why you did it, Jefferey." Flack said calmy, from across the room where he leaned agasint the window ledge.

Mac, Lindsay and Hawkes watched and listened in the next room through the one way glass.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jefferey said in response.

"Sure you do." Sam said and slid the same photo Flack had pushed in the face of Tyler Mann earlier across the table. "Tamara Collins. Your upstairs neighbour. She lived in your old apartment. The young woman that you raped and stabbed ad left to die on her living room floor."

Jefferey leaned back in his seat cockily, hands behind his head. "I didn't rape or kill anyone."

"Reminds me of D.J. Pratt when we collared him for Aiden." Mac commented to Lindsay and Hawkes.

"This isn't going to well for you, Jefferey." Flack said. "You've already lied twice in two minutes. And I hate liars."

"Good for you." Jefferey retorted.

"How'd you hurt your hand?" Sam asked, nodding at the injury.

'Work place accident."

"That looks like ink in the wound." Sam observed. "Tamara Collins had ink in her wound too. I have these tests that can tell me if the ink in your wound matches the ink in her's. How about you let me take a sample and I'll run the tests."

"I know my rights, lady." Jefferey snapped.

"We have rights, too," Flack told him, standing at the edge of the table, hands on the surface as he leaned forward. "They're called warrants. And I can get one. Or maybe I can just go with the evidence we already have against you."

"You're in the national DNA data base because of the assault you committed in '03." Sam told him. "Because of that, I was able to take your DNA and match it to the blood on this." she showed him a photo of the fountain pen. "The pen that killed Tamara."

"We've got you, Jefferey." Flack said as he sat down. "So how about you just come clean and tell us what happened last night."

Jefferey remained silent.

"I talked to the real estate agent that sold your apartment." Sam said, "He told me that you were very adamant about accepting Tamara's offer even though it was well below your asking price. Detective Flack and I thought it was strange that you'd take a twenty five thousands dollar loss like that so we started digging around and asking questions. Turns out you knew Tamara. You worked with her at the ad agency. When the officers talked to you this morning, you said you didn't know her at all."

Flack held up three fingers. "That's how many lies you've told." he said to Jefferey. "Wanna go for the whole hand?"

"The agent also told us that you were adamant about purchasing in the same building." Sam continued. "Even though he had found you something even better. And that you stayed in a hotel for three months until an apartment in that building became available."

"Then we found out Tamara complained you were harrassing her." Flack added.

'Why'd you do it Jefferey?" Sam asked.

He released his hands from behind his head and sat properly in the chair. "She told me she loved me." he said quietly.

"You were in a relationship with her?" Sam inquired. "For how long?"

Jefferey sighed. "Over a year." he admitted. "We met at work. Started an affair. For a whole year she told me that she loved me and promised to leave Tyler for me."

"Then she got pregnant and everything changed." Sam concluded.

"She wouldn't leave him. I begged her and begged her when I went to see her last night. I even offered her money! She wouldn't take it. She said Tyler proposed and she loved him and wanted to be with him."

"And you lost it." Flack said.

"Women, they say things." Jefferey attempted to explain. "They put all this stuff in your head and you believe them and you fall in love with them and then you find out it was all lies." he turned pleading eyes to Flack. "You're a guy! You understand!"

"No." Flack said shaking his head. "I don't."

"We argued." Jefferey continued. "She threatened to call the police. I snapped and I picked up the pen from coffee table and I stabbed her."

"And then you left her there." Sam chimed in. "And while she was bleeding to death, you took the time to take off your clothes and put on some of Tyler's while you cleaned the blood up so you wouldn't get the mess all over yours and if the cops found his clothes with her blood on it they'd assume he was the killer. And when you were done cleaning up, you put your clothes back on and dumped Tyler's down the chute."

"To frame him." Flack said.

Jefferey's hands were clasped tightly in front of him and silent tears spilled down his face as he rocked back and forth. "I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "I'm so sorry! What have I done? I loved her!"

Sam shook her head sadly. "You murdered a beautiful young woman and her unborn child." she said in disgust. "And all you can say to us is that you're sorry and you loved her? You're going to be getting a lot of love where you're going, Jefferey. Those cons are gonna love you when they find out you murdered that baby. They love to prey on guys like you. You'll make a real nice bitch for someone."

"For the next twenty five to life." Flack threw in, as he and Sam stood up and began gathering up their papers.

"Damn..." Sheldon shook his head in disbelief and appreciation. "She's good, Mac."

The boss of the crime lab smiled broadly. "She's fitting in just nicely." he said in approval.

"I really did love her." Jefferey cried out as Sam and Flack approached the door.

Flack snorted. "Ya had a hell of a way of showing it." he said and slipped out the door.

'What will happen to me?" Jefferey asked Sam before she could leave.

"Its not up to me." she replied. "And if it was? Trust me, you don't want to hear the answer."

**Aphina: I'm glad you liked the way Flack and Carmen respond to eachother. And Gavin is there to offer his support and his condolences. You'll be surprised how Flack reacts!**

**Madison Bellows: lol! I am so sorry you needed therapy after that last one. Its okay. I needed a stiff drink after writing it! LOL! More Moran to come!**

**Lily moonlight: I'm glad you enjoy the use of the flashbacks and the little cliffhangers.**

**Next chapter: a little girl time!**


	14. Chapter 14

**How rumours start and friendships begin: Part Two**

"And you know that

I'll be at your side, no need to worry

Together we'll survive through the haste and the hurry

I'll be at your side

if you feel like you're alone, and you've nowhere to turn

I'll be at your side."

-At Your Side, The Corrs

* * *

Samantha pushed her way through the noisy crowded bar. Making her way in the direction of the auburn haired beauty standing on her chair at table at the far back and waving both arms over her head.

It was a quarter to ten and the little Irish pub on 75th and Broadway was all ready hopping. Beer steins clinked together as harried bartenders poured pint after pint. Waitresses shimmied their way through the crush of people, orders being shouted at them and tips thrown on their trays as they went. Near the back at the pool tables, balls cracked together noisily and the players talked and laughed heartily. Music blasted from the in house DJ while a handful of dancers put on a show on the postage stamp sized dance floor.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to make it." Carmen spoke loudly over the din. "When I just got your voice mail I got a little nervous you might not get the message."

"Sorry. Its this damn department phone." Sam unclipped the Blackberry from her pocket and tossed it on the table. "I can't figure out how to work it." She slipped out of her denim jacket and dropped it on the bench before sliding into the booth across from her new friend. "I'm glad you called." she said. "Congratulations on getting the job. I knew you'd get it as soon as we talked. And you were right, I could use a drink after the weird twenty four hours I've had."

"Well, I just thought seeing as we're both the new girls, we should get together and find out what makes each other tick."

"I love your thought process!" Sam laughed and Carmen waved a waitress over. Sam ordered an Electric Popsicle. Carmen went with a rye and coke.

"Electric Popsicle?" Carmen asked curiously.

"Its amazing. The best one I've ever tasted is made at Boston Pizza. They taste just like those Popsicles with the three colors. Couple ounces of melon liqueur, couple of Blue Curacao, fill it up with Seven up... amazing. I have to confess I used to over do it on them back in Arizona. So if I get too drunk, please don't leave me in an alley or in a gutter somewhere."

Carmen laughed. "I won't." she promised. "Long day?"

"Not so much long as it was strange. The last two days have been really bizarre to say the least. Work wise, personal wise. Its been something else."

"Boyfriend problems?"

"Jesus, I've got ex boyfriend issues and issues with this incredible guy I just met. I don't even know what to call him. Its just been real, real surreal. And we had this case..." Sam shook her head. "It was a winner. Mind you, my first case this morning was solved in less than an hour."

"Get outta here." Carmen said and smiled her thanks at the waitress as she sat the drink on the table.

"Thank you." Sam said to the young frazzled waitress and took a long sip of her drink. "Anyway, yeah. Solved in an hour. Gas station hold up. The perp dropped his wallet at the scene and when the detective went to talk to him, he was still wearing the same clothes witnesses had described him in and the money and cigarettes he stole were sitting on the table in plain site."

"Dumb ass." Carmen chuckled. "Don't you wish they could all be like that?"

"Make this job a whole lot easier." Sam declared and slid her drink across the table. "Give it a try." she told Carmen. "Trust me, your taste buds will thank you."

Carmen took a sip. It was delicious and went down smooth. And sure enough, it tasted exactly like the Rocket tri-flavored Popsicle. "You're right," she said. "that is good!"

"I'm slightly addicted." Sam reluctantly admitted. "But I'm sure the department has counsellors who can help me with my dependency."

Carmen laughed. She couldn't stop laughing. This girl was off the cuff and sarcastically witty. She reminded Carmen of herself. And she could tell immediately this was the beginning of a great friendship to last the ages. "How about your other case?" she asked curiously.

"That one was a killer. Pardon the pun. And I'm not even tipsy yet. So, yeah, our second scene. We get called to this poshy condo building on the upper east side. Inside one of the apartments, there's this beautiful young woman dead, in a pool of blood on her living room floor. Stabbed, in the carotid artery by what we would later discover is a fountain pen. No word of a lie. An eighty dollar fountain pen. To make a long story short, the boyfriend's alibi checks out, we find out she's pregnant, go back to the murder scene and find the weapon, dust it, swab it, the whole nine.Turns out the woman was having a thing with a co-worker."

"Messy."

"To say the least. We found out that he was so in love with her, obsessed is more like it if you ask me, that he sold his apartment to her at way less than market value, stayed in a motel until he could buy another place in the same building, then started harassing her. She played him. Its the only way to say it. She played him and told him she loved him and that she'd leave her boyfriend, blah, blah, blah. Only she doesn't love the boyfriend and these two get into a huge thing and the rest is history."

"Sounds like you had a hell of a day." Carmen said.

"Tell me about it. Which is why, a few of these..." she nodded at her drink and took a sip. "will go so good right now."

"Guy problems too, huh?"

"When isn't there guy problems? Seriously. They're the 'cause of all the problems in the world."

"Amen to that." Carmen said and held a loft her glass. They toasted to it.

"And to top it all of, I got into a little altercation with Monroe. You know, the one that was so rude to you today? I found out that she was talking all this shit about me and started a rumor that me and Danny are seeing each other just 'cause we're hanging out this weekend. She's his girlfriend in some strange, obscure way. All I know is that this girl has issues. And any one with more issues than me is in big trouble."

"You mess her up?" Carmen asked.

"Should have. And I so wanted to. But I didn't want to loose my job on the first day. But if I ever see her out on the street... let's just say she doesn't want to see me out on the street. Enough about work. Let's talk about you. What kind of day did you have?"

"Other than getting the job? Pretty uneventful. I'm in the midst of looking for an apartment. Something closer to work.

"Let me know if you find one. Not that I have anything against Queens. The area we're in isn't that bad. But living with my brother in a one bedroom apartment, in Queens, is just too much. Living with Adam is like having a little kid to look after. And I'm not exactly a kid person. Cute enough when they're someone else's."

"I hear you. I am more than slightly inept with babies." Carmen said. "You ever want kids?"

"It would have to be one hell of a special guy to make me want kids. Like say, David Beckham knocking on my door. Then I'd seriously consider it. But seeing as that isn't going to happen any time soon..."

Carmen stirred the ice in her drink with her straw. "What about this guy you're interested in? He father material?"

"He's amazing, mind blowing sex material if that counts for anything."

Carmen laughed. "It helps."

"Honestly? I have no clue about the father material thing. I have no clue about a lot of things when it comes to him. Which is why it is way too bizarre to be liking him as much as I do when I barely know him."

"Hey, the best part of being with someone new is finding out all the little things that make them who they are." Carmen told her.

"You should have been a relationship coach." Sam laughed. "Saying stuff like that."

Carmen laughed as well and finished off her drink. "I am the last person who should be handing out advice in the love department. Trust me."

"So what about you?" Sam asked, finishing her drink as well. "Boyfriend? Husband?"

"No boyfriend." Carmen replied. "But I do have an ex-husband. A nut job of one at that. Let's just say that in the end, it got really, really bad and things took a nasty turn. I've pretty much lost faith in the male species."

Samantha wasn't going to push for a detailed account. She could tell it bothered Carmen and didn't want to upset her any further. "That's too bad. I'm sorry." she said sincerely.

"What about you?" Carmen asked. "Have you ever been married?"

"I came close.Very, very close. The night before the wedding close."

The waitress came to clear the table. The two girls ordered two drinks a piece and started a tab.

"That must have been tough." Carmen said. "What happened if you don't mind me asking?"

Sam helped herself to a handful of pretzels in a small basket on the table. "He's a state trooper and I found out that he was letting women off for traffic violations if they gave him favors."

'What a fucking dirt bag." Carmen declared.

"I called off the wedding and the next day," Sam continued " and he decided to use our pre-paid honeymoon to take a couple of his buddies for some R and R in Cabo. Nice huh?" Sam gave a rueful laugh. "He was real choked up about it. I got my revenge. When I saw the posting for here, I applied and packed everything up I could take with me and when it came time, emptied the bank accounts and here I am."

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that." Carmen shook her head in disbelief. "But I'm glad you taught him a lesson."

"It was meant to happen. For me to find out. He was... what's the best word? He was mean. Physically and verbally. You know, its weird. In our job, we have these women who are being bashed around telling us they stay because they loved these men, and these men love them and can be saved. And we think these women are nuts. That there is no way we'd ever let any man do that to us. And then it happens and you get sucked in and you become one of those women. A victim."

"You are no victim girl." Carmen said sternly. "Listening to you talk, I can tell you are no victim and that you refuse to be one. That guy was a fucking bastard and there's a lot like that out there unfortunately. But you are no victim and don't ever let anyone tell you are."

"Guys like that? They always find me." Sam lamented. "And I always seem to find them. Because of all these past experiences, with this and with things that happened during my childhood, I seem to be drawn to the bullies. I keep holding out hope that there's some nice, decent guy out there."

"Maybe you'e already found him. This guy you're talking about. A cop, I assume?"

"Detective. Homicide. I can't stay away from the badge and the gun. I swear I have some kind of cop fetish. I can't seem to stay way from them. But he's a decent guy. I haven't trusted a man in a long time and I'm finding myself trusting him. And it doesn't hurt that he's tall, dark and handsome. Astonishingly handsome. Wait until you meet him, Carmen. You'll see what I mean."

"But? I sense a but coming on."

"I'm a major pessimist when it comes to men. If something seems to good to be true, its usually because it is."

"That's just the trust thing kicking in." Carmen assured her. "I'm the same way. Over analyse everything. But then the job also makes you that way. What about the ex? Have you heard from him?"

"Oh that's the best part of all of it. He's on his way to New York. To work things out. Yeah. Like that's going to happen."

"Well I can tell you one thing." Carmen said. "If he thinks he can get away with acting like a prick here, he's gonna have some big tough New York City boys on his ass. And they'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget."

* * *

They stayed until well after midnight. Talking and giggling like old friends. Chatting about everything from their favorite things to childhood memories to unforgettable cases they had been involved in. The basic getting to know you stuff. They both found they had a lot in common and had formed a quick, easy bond like one they'd never formed with any friend before.

It was a cool, refreshing night as they headed, arms linked, bodies swaying slightly from the effects of the alcohol, to the nearest subway station. Stars sparkled in a black velvet sky. Eight a.m. came early and they had lost count of the drinks after half a dozen a piece and were surprised when the bill came to just over a hundred bucks. It wouldn't be the first time either of them worked with a hang over. Although doing so in the first few days of a new job wasn't a familiar experience.

"Carmen," Sam said, words a little slurred. "I have a confession to make and I need to make it."

"Okay... what is it?"

"You're gonna think I'm really, really crazy."

"Try me." Carmen said.

"I am in love with a man I just met. Yesterday. What the fuck is that? That can not happen. Being in love that quick. It can't, right? I'm just crazy is all."

"Do you feel crazy?" Carmen inquired.

"No... but it's impossible for it to happen this quick. Isn't it?"

"There's no set rule when for when it's the right time to fall in love with someone." Carmen told her. "It just happens. And if it feels right, then it probably is.'

"But someone I work with? I can't be in love with someone I work with ."

"You have a strange set of rules for yourself girl." Carmen informed her. "Tell him how you feel."

"What?" Sam exclaimed. "Are you nuts? I can't do that! I'll scare him away. He'll think I'm nuts."

"He may be feeling the same way." Carmen reasoned.

"I doubt it." Sam said with a sigh. "No one can fall in love with someone this fast. I don't know. I am so confused. I want to be with him yet I've got all this drama and baggage hanging around and I need to get rid of it and at the same time I want to act on my feelings. Maybe all of this is 'cause I need to get laid and he looks like he'd be more than up to the task. I am so fucking messed up! Literally. You must think I'm a drunk. A crazy drunk."

"I think you're a really nice girl whose been through way more than she ever deserved to go through and you're just finding a way to survive."

"See! See! You should be a counsellor! And you're right. I am surviving. Barely sometimes. But I'm doing it and that counts for something. And this guy... he's so amazing and I need him so bad. In every sense of the word."

"Call him. Tell him where you are and to come and get you."

"I'm not calling him at twelve thirty in the morning looking for a booty call. As great as that sounds... I'm starving. Are you starving?"

"Yeah." Carmen said, realizing her stomach was growling. "And I have an idea."

* * *

They sat in Carmen's living room, on the hard wood floor in front of the couch, in flannel pyjamas and drinking glasses of milk and eating pink sprinkle donuts. Carmen had bought an entire dozen and they'd already eaten half. She'd also lent Samantha a pair of pyjamas to wear. Sam was way too drunk to be left alone on a subway all the way to Queens and be trusted to find her way home from there. She'd spend the night and shower in the morning and change at work into a spare outfit she'd left in her locker.

"Best idea ever." Sam declared, around a mouthful of donut.

"You decide what to do about your detective?" Carmen asked, swallowing some milk.

"For one, I have decided for now to keep my mouth shut."

"That is not the answer I wanted to hear." Carmen said. "Seize the day, girl!" She decided to take matters in her own hands and grabbed Sam's phone off the coffee table. "Got his number in this thing?" she asked.

"I think its the second last number dialled. Why?"

Carmen checked the phone. "Detective Flack?"

"That's him. Why? What are you doing?"

"Just relax." Carmen said. "I'm taking charge of things." she pressed send.

Sam lunged at her friend, reaching for the phone. "Don't!" she screamed. "Don't do it! He's probably sleeping!"

Carmen aggressively fought the smaller girl off. "You're a tough little shit I'll give you that, Ross... yeah? hello?" she said into the phone. "Look, my name's Carmen Devine and I'm the new CSI starting tomorrow. I'm here with Samantha and she's trashed and..."

"Carmen!" Sam shrieked. "Hang up! Hang up!"

"And she wants to talk to you... hang on..." she tackled Samantha onto her back, straddled her stomach and used one hand to pin her wrists above her head and the other to hold the phone to her ear. "Talk to the man!" she demanded.

"Carmen! I am going to kick your ass!" Sam yelled.

"Tell him! Tell him what you told me! Tell him!"

"You're fucking crazy! I'm not saying a goddamn word!"

"Fine! Be a little bitch about it!" Carmen put the phone back to her own ear. "Look, she's in love with you all right!"

"Carmen!" Sam freaked. "I am going to kill you!"

"She's just being a stubborn little bitch is all." Carmen said into the phone. "Okay... I'll tell her that.. sorry to wake you up... nice meeting you kinda... bye." she hung up and tossed the phone onto the couch.

"Carmen Devine you are so fucking dead!" Sam bellowed and turned the tables on Carmen and flattened her onto her back.

"He told me to tell you to sober up and see if you feel the same way in the morning." Carmen said, grunting. It was unreal how a woman that little could be so goddamn strong.

"I can't believe you did that!"

"Relax, Ross. He also told me to say he felt the same way and that he's sober and saying it. And I'll tell ya one thing, if he's as hot as his voice makes him sound, you got damn good taste!"

* * *

Samantha had woken up with the worst head ache known to man and a vague recollection of the incidents of the night before. All she knew was that she was in a pair of pyjamas that didn't belong to her, face down on Carmen Devine's couch. She groaned in agony and rolled onto her back and looked around. There was an almost completely empty box of a dozen donuts on the floor and her cell phone was now digging into her ass. She had a temporary outline of the device on her stomach from falling asleep on it.

Her cell phone. One very drunk phone call to...

Oh my fucking God.

How in the hell am I going to face him today? she thought and rubbed at her temples and her weary eyes. Talk about making a total ass out out of yourself! It wasn't that the things weren't true that had been said. She just hadn't wanted to say them so soon. She wanted to time to purge the old hurts and old memories out of her system before committing into anything serious. Time to lick her wounds a little and learn to love herself before allowing anyone else to love her. Because how could she give all of herself to someone when her heart hadn't been whole to start out with. The timing had completely sucked. And the matter in which she'd let him know her feelings sucked even worse. She had made an ass out of herself and another party had helped her along the way.

It took all she had not to leap up and strangle the shit out of Carmen when the new CSI appeared by the arm of the couch and smiled brighlty and greeted her with an ear piercing: "Time to get up, sleepin' beauty!"

And she would have strangled her if it wasn't for the crippling pain in her head and the fact that as soon as she sat up, she felt the overwhelming urge to vomit and went running for the bathroom.

Both ailments had made the trip to work on the subway excruciating. All she wanted to do was put her head down somewhere and go back to sleep. All the way into mid town her eyes kept drifting closed and her head snapping back and then dropping forward again while Carmen attempted to force some green tea into her. It had been a long time since Samantha had gotten that drunk where she could barely function the next morning. While drinking until her feet and her nose felt numb and she was just starting to wobble or slur her speech was a fairly common occurrence, getting to the point where she had to crash on someones couch and throwing up everything she'd eaten in the last two days was rare.

But at least she'd had a hell of a good time. And made a hell of a good friend. The last real friend she had had, was the two faced bitch back at the Pheonix lab who had been scheduled to be in her wedding party, only to find out that she had been screwing around with Zack too. The guy had been a regular player and Sam had been none the wiser until it was almost too late. It was what happened when you invested more time in your work than you did in your relationships.

Carmen was different. She was witty and intelligent and Sam could tell even after the short time they'd known each other, that she was fiercely loyal. And that she could be trusted. Trust for Sam went way beyond the members of the opposite sex. Your friends were the ones who were suppose to be the ones there to help pick up the pieces when the opposite sex did you wrong. Not revel in your suffering and misery. And she knew Carmen would never do that.The compassion and understanding in Carmen's voice when she told her about Zack had been proof enough for Sam.

And now two hours later, after Carmen had been introduced to the members of the team and was on her customary tour of the facilities with Stella, Sam, nursing her aching head and foul stomach, was in the bull pen trying to concentrate on the employee information forms Mac wanted ASAP. All she could concentrate on was the hammering in her temples and between her eyes and the constant nausea that washed over her in waves. And the fact she'd made a fool out of herself the night before with Flack. She was still trying to figure out how to play it cool when he eventually showed up to the labs.

It was a relatively slow morning. Hawkes and Lindsay were out in the field on a simple burglary call -Sam couldn't wait to see what, if anything, Lindsay told Hawkes about their incident in the locker room yesterday- and Mac was in his office hard at work as usual while Danny was lending a helping hand to the trace lab. Sam had her arm on the table top and her forehead resting in the crook of her elbow, eyes closed and feeling sorry for the state she found herself in and vowing never to drink that much again, when she felt the presence of someone standing over her. Followed by the sound of something being placed on the table.

She raised her head and opened her eyes and there was Flack, grinning down at her with this huge grin on his face that showed off his temples. How in the hell could one man be that good looking and smell so damn good? On the table in front of her was an extra large tea, bottle of water and a plain croissant.

"Morning, sunshine." he greeted. "Feelin' pretty good this morning, huh? Your new best friend told me you and Jose Cuervo are on a first name basis after last night."

"Do you have to be so cheerful?" she asked grumpily. "I have a raging tsunami in my head."

"I don't feel the least bit sorry for you." he told her.

"Yes you do." she said.

"Here..." he held out three extra strength Tylenol.

"Thanks." she said and took them and swallowed them with some of the water. "Bringing me tea and croissants for breakfasts? Aren't you just a gentleman. What are you in such a good mood for?"

Flack sat down in the chair beside her, their knees touching under the table. Neither made an attempt to move. "I should be pissed considering two drunk women woke me up at two thirty in the morning." he said.

"Being woke up by two drunk women is usually some perverted fantasy for most guys." she retorted.

"Maybe if you had have woke me up by showing up in person at my place it would have been."

She felt herself blush. "That's sexual harassment." she informed him teasingly.

"That Carmen is something else, huh? She reminds me of you. Same personality. Not to mention sarcastic as all hell. You'd swear you two were sisters. You guys hit it off pretty quick."

"She's an amazing girl." Sam reasoned. "And I'm sorry we woke you up."

"So you actually remember making that phone call. That's a relief."

"I didn't make it." Sam corrected him. "Carmen did. She held me against my will." She sipped the tea and grimaced. "Are you trying to kill me? What the hell is in this?"

"Three tea bags. Nice and strong. To sober you up. More caffeine the better. Drink up. And make sure you eat something."

"Should I be calling you Doctor Flack from now on?" she asked light heartedly and bit into the croissant.

He just smiled. "You remember anything you said last night?" he asked.

"I didn't say it. Carmen did. And yeah. I remember."

"Was it true? Did you mean it?"

She chewed slowly on the croissant and then sipped some tea as she contemplated what to say. She nodded at last. "Did you?" she asked.

He nodded as well.

"This is insane." she declared. "We're both insane. We have to be. Feeling like this so soon. It can't be normal. Can it?"

"Why don't you just stop doubting it and yourself so much and over analysing everything and just go with how you feel. How we both feel. And then we'll just see where everything goes from there."

"I think that's a good idea." she said. "And I don't think we should tell anyone. About us."

"There's an us?" he asked.

"I don't know." she replied. "Is there?"

"I want there to be." he admitted.

"So do I. But don't you think it's going to be a little weird having a relationship and working together? You know, considering your little rule about not dating people you work with 'cause it blurs the lines."

He frowned. "Who told you about that?"

"Danny."

"I am so gonna beat his ass from one end of the lab to the other. I did say that. Once. A long time ago. And deep down, it was probably because I never worked with anyone I liked enough to date and put up with the office gossip and bull shit that comes with it."

"You just have all the right answers this morning." she said with a smile.

"I also think that we're both adults and we should be able to deal with having a workplace thing. But I do agree with you on not telling any one right now. There's already enough crazy ass shit going on around here without adding to it. We don't want to turn into another Danny and Lindsay. Get other people involved and talkin' too much and that's exactly what will happen. Only person I am going to tell is Danny. He's my best friend and he can keep a secret."

"Please! You just want him to know so he won't try anything with me on Saturday." she said.

Flack smiled. "You know me so well." he said. "I also came here to deliver a bit of news."

"Uh-oh."

"Your ex got spotted on the FDR this morning. Around..." Flack checked his watch. "seven thirty. Three hours ago. So he's in the city."

"Wonderful."she sighed. "And he's not my ex."

"Really? 'Cause that's not what your boss back in Atlanta told me."

Sam stared at him. Swallowed a mouthful of tea and tried to remain calm "You actually talked to my boss in Atlanta? Why?"

"I wanted the whole deal on the guy. And something told me you weren't exactly telling me the entire truth. So I did a little detective work. I'm a detective. I detect. Its what I do."

"Look, I didn't mean to lie about it. I just wanted to..."

"Protect yourself." Flack interrupted her gently. "I get it. And I'm not pissed or anything. Honestly, I don't think I would have told someone I just met all of that either. But you could have at least told me you and this guy were together. You almost married him."

"He's still a crazy bastard regardless if I was with him or not." Sam pointed out.

"I think you need to tell me the whole story, Samantha. Like why you dumped him the night before the wedding and the complaints you filled against him."

She sighed. "Its complicated." she said. "Complicated and long."

"Hey, I'm here, aren't I? I've got all the time in the world, sunshine."

* * *

He listened to her intently and understandingly as she, in great detail, chronicled the events that led to the break up of her relationship and her subsequent departure for New York. It was painful for her. He could see it in her eyes and all over her face that it was difficult to talk about. Yet her voice showed little or no emotion. A coping mechanism. He used it himself all the time when he heard something or saw something that cut him deep. Listening to her, he realized just how strong and resilient she was for being able to deal with it all and still come out with her sanity.

"That guy is a fucking prick." Flack said when she finally stopped talking and there was a long, silent pause in the conversation. The abuse part was what bothered him the most. Any guy that slapped around a woman deserved it back ten fold.

Some time during the conversation, he'd unknowingly laid his hand over hers on the table and now their fingers were entwined, clasped tightly.

"You see why I came back to New York?" she asked. "Why I'm as screwed up as I am?"

"You're not screwed up." he assured her. "And if you'd feel better talking to someone, Mac has a niece that's a department psychologist that's damn good. If you talk to him, he could probably get you in to see her."

"I don't need a therapist." she said harshly and yanked her hand out of his.

He regarded her skeptically.

"Okay. Maybe I do. Maybe I have huge issues that I need help dealing with. But it was hard enough telling you, never mind telling a complete stranger. When I'm ready, if I'm ready, I'll talk to Mac."

"I just think it would help is all." Flack reasoned. "We all need help sometime, right?"

"Have you ever been to the staff psychologist?" she inquired.

"Tons of times." he admitted.

"For?"

"Killin' people in the line of duty, roughin' up a suspect a little too much, getting mouthy with Gerrard and Sinclair, my anger management issues. Its a long list." He wasn't ready to tell her about the bombing yet. She had enough shit on her plate without adding his baggage to it.

"So you're not as fragile and boyscout as you seem." she teased.

"You're real comedienne, you know that? And if you want to look on the bright side of all this crazy stuff with your ex, you did come to New York, back home where you belong, and you did meet me. That's the brightest part."

Sam laughed. "You are so goddamn cocky." she said.

"Confident." he corrected her. "There's a big difference. And admit it. Its what you like best about me.'

"Yeah... that's it. It has nothing to do with your eyes.'

Flack sighed. "The eyes." he said. "It's always the eyes."

"You have very pretty eyes." she informed him.

"Please don't use pretty and my eyes in the same sentence." he said.

"Well they are. They're trusting, soulful eyes. A little sad, too."

"Now whose being a therapist." he said. "Are you really that scared of this guy?"

Sam nodded. "He's nuts. Trust me. You have no idea what he's capable of."

"You want me to post a couple of uniforms at your place in case he turns up there?" Flack offered.

"How will you arrange that? Don't you have to clear those things with brass?"

"Brass owes me." he said. "Huge. Would that make you feel better?"

"It would."

"Consider it done. Someone will be around here and out in the field so that's not an issue. Would he honestly have the stones to show up here?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm sorry." Flack said. "That you had to go through all of that. That's why you're so reluctantly about getting involved with anyone."

"Its a trust thing." she told him. "Its what it comes down to. Trusting myself and someone else."

"You can trust me, Samantha." he assured her. "I'm not in this to hurt you."

"I know. But its going to take me a while. Throwing myself completely into us. You know, intimacy wise."

"Hey, I am in no hurry." he promised. "Whenever it happens, it happens. No pressure, no expectations. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

"But you can't call me a perv or slap me out for thinking about it or even trying."

"I promise I won't." she said.

Flack's pager went off and he checked it. "Dispatch." he said with a heavy sigh. "I guess it is time for me to actually get off my ass and do some actual police work. DB in Times Square." he stood and yawned noisily and stretched into his back and his knees cracked.

"Jesus." Sam said. "How old are you, Don? Fifty? All that grey hair and now aching bones, too?"

"Cute." he snorted. "Gotta go. Save the world, one bastard criminal at a time."

"Something tells me I better not get too comfortable. That Danny or Stella are going to come hunting for me any minute."

"I'll see you in a while." he said and couldn't resist reaching out and brushing her cheek softly with his knuckles. "Its gonna be okay." he gave her a reassuring smile. "Its all good. I promise."

She just smiled and watched him leave. God I hope you're right, she thought. For both of our sakes.

* * *

He sat behind the wheel of a rental car with tinted windows across the street from the crime lab. He'd had a sneaky suspicion that the little bitch had gone and given a description of his car and of him and his license plate number when she found out he was on his way. She was too good of a cop not to cover all the angles. Its why he left his own car at the hotel and rented another. There was no way that her over protective step dad wouldn't have called her and told her everything he knew. He'd planned it that way. To give her something to think about while living her new life in New York City. Something to keep her up at night and make her look over her shoulder when she walked down the street. Something to make her re-consider the stupid, selfish choices she had made.

Who the hell did she think she was? Leaving him. Taking their money. His money. She was nothing until he came along. Just some troubled, tough as nails Brooklyn chick looking for someone to love her. And he loved her. With everything he was and everything he had. He loved her in a way no other man could possibly love her. Ever. He was the best damn thing that ever happened to her. Her existence was shit until he came along. And this is how she repaid him? By humiliating him in front of all of their family and friends? By taking off without so much as a goodbye or an I'll see you later? He wasn't going to go out like that. He wasn't going to let her go that easy. No woman treated him like that. Especially her. Did she think she was perfect and that she never made mistakes? Did things to hurt the people closest to her? She'd burned a lot of bridges way beyond repair. Yet she had the nerve to walk around like she was goddamn perfect.

He'd been sitting there for over two hours. He'd seen her go into work. He hadn't seen her leave. His eyes were riveted on the front doors. Scanning every face that came out. None of them were her. He couldn't let her see him. Not yet. He wanted her to live in fear for a little while longer. Too wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. Play a little game with her before finishing up what he came to do. And he would finish it. If it killed him.

Then he saw her. The red high lights in her hair sparkling in the glorious sunshine. Laughing and talking with another cop as they left the building. A guy. Short and athletically built with spiky blond hair and glasses. Carrying two evidence collecting kits. A gentleman. He saw the way this guy looked at her and vice versa. There was something there. On both their parts. She'd already moved on the dirty little whore. He felt rage built inside of him. His hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Heart pounding in his chest and sweat across his brow. The way they were laughing and smiling was disgusting. Walking towards a black pick up by the curb. A woman with curly hair behind the wheel.

How could she move on so quickly? Be so happy? And who the hell did that guy think he was taking another guy's woman. His property.

He'd pay too. That cop with the glasses. They'd both pay.

He opened up the glove compartment and stared at the Glock semi-automatic handgun sitting in there. Bullet already in the chamber and a full cartridge ready to go. She wasn't going to get away with it. She was going back to Arizona with him. Alive or dead, it didn't matter.

But she would pay. She would hurt and she would pay and she'd live, or die, to regret the day she ever left him.

**Aphina: I'm glad you liked the way she handled Lindsay and gave her what she had coming. And I just couldn't let poor Flack suffer. Major feelings and major sexual chemistry between those two. Unfortunately, he's going to have to wait a little while longer. Its truly evil what we do to that man! LOL! P.S.: It was time for the sprinkle donuts and a little tough love from Carmen!**

**Madison Bellows: lol! You're right! She does need to work on the anger. And a lot of other things. Gus is on the way!**

**Bluehaven 4220: I loved the Lindsay dressing down part, too! And you're right: us Ontario-ans are cool like that! We got our own way of talking and thinking and loving. **

**Anyone else reading this? If you are, please review!! PLEASE?? **


	15. Chapter 15

**I own nothing but those you don't recognize. However, if I owned Flack, right now he'd be chained to my bed and... never mind**.

**When Zack met Flack**

"He's someone I would hate to be

I got the girl and he's left with the memory.

He's a guy that you should feel sorry for

He had the world but thought he wanted more

I owe it all to the mistake he made back then

I owe it all to my girl's ex boyfriend."

-My Girl's Ex-boyfriend, Relient K

* * *

"Making friends, Flack?" Stella asked, as she, Danny and Samantha ducked under the yellow crime scene tape in front of the Foot Locker store in Times Square.

Crowds of people were gathered around. Lookie-loos as Danny called them. Chattering excitedly as they took in the action. Some of them even snapped pictures. Damn tourists. The uniforms entrusted to keep the on-lookers back were struggling with the task. Flack was yelling at the crowd to stay behind the yellow line or get your ass tossed in jail for obstruction. No one was listening. Some were even telling him to relax. That they wanted to see what was going on. They were on vacation, needed something to remember it by.

"I'll give you something to remember it by!" he snapped. "My foot in your ass! Now take a walk!"

"And give me that damn camera!" Danny snatched it out of the tourist's hands and popped out the memory card. "I'll take this, thank you." he said and slipped the cartridge into his pocket and tossed the camera back.

"Hey, man! That's our whole vacation right there! You can't do that!"

"Shoulda thought about that before thinking it was smart to take photos of a crime scene. What's wrong with you? Taking photos of a dead guy? Show some goddamn respect. You don't do shit like that."

"Now get lost!" Flack bellowed. "And all of you just back the fuck up! Thompson!" he yelled at one of the uniforms. "You get these people off of my crime scene or we'll be hauling a lot of asses out of here!"

"Having fun?" Stella asked.

Flack sighed. "Rookies. Too scared to get mean with anyone."

'What we got?" Danny asked,

"Dead naked guy." Flack replied matter of factly. "What?" he asked when he saw their eyebrows arch and the puzzled expressions on their faces. "You guys think I'm joking about this? You can't miss him. After you ladies."

As Samantha and Stella stepped in front of them, Flack fell in step alongside Danny.

"He's really naked?" Danny inquired.

"As the day he was born. Danny, we need to have a little talk."

"Sounds important." Danny said. "Business or personal?"

"It is important. Very. And its personal."

"I'm all ears." Danny told him.

"Later. When no one's around. All right?"

"Everything okay?" Danny looked concerned.

"For once, every thing's fine." Flack assured him.

Sam and Stella were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Latex gloves on their hands. Stella was taking detailed notes while Sam began snapping pictures. Face down on the ground below, was a deceased male, grey shaggy hair and beard, arms and legs spreadeagled, his hands and feet covered in layers of dirt and callouses. And very much naked.

"Told ya." Flack said. "I wasn't joking. Our friend here goes by Dusty. At least that's the name some of the store owners around here gave him 'cause of how dirty he is. Been a fixture around here for the last ten years. Takes up residence in a cardboard condo in the alley way behind the H&M store. Scores free food from the restaurants for washing windows, stuff like that. Apparently, the walking around naked thing is not a common practice for him."

"Who called it in?" Sam asked, crouching down to snap pictures,

"Tony Hernandez. Manager of the Foot Locker. Says Dusty ran into his store, naked, yelling something about the aliens comin' for him and when security eigthy-sixed him, he just keeled over. Dead."

"They get physical with him?" Danny asked, helping Stella roll the body. "Maybe they knocked him around a bit?"

"I've got six witnesses tellin' me the guards barely touched him." Flack said. "I've got the surveillance tapes on the way to Adam to see if its the truth or not."

"He doesn't have any bruises or scratches on him to suggest anyone got violent with him." Sam commented. "Other than being dirty and having some scars that are pretty dated, he's in decent shape. And the scars are pretty minor. More likely from a hard lifestyle than anything else."

"Natural causes maybe?" Danny wondered aloud.

"Couple people mentioned he hasn't been right lately." Flack said. "Talking to himself more than usual, acting paranoid, getting the shakes."

"Sounds like early on set Alzheimers or Parkinsons." Stella commented. "Any one see anything out of the ordinary?"

"Stell, this is New York. Something is always out of the ordinary and no one ever sees a thing." Flack reminded her. "But so far from what I'm hearing, every one liked this guy and he had no enemies."

"Everyone has enemies." Danny said. "its just usually the people you least expect."

"Well there's nothing to suggest drugs were involved." Stella told them. "There's no track marks or burning to the lining of the nose. No smell of alcohol, either. A tox run will tell us more. And there isn't a wound on this guy and no blood present."

"Just fell over and boom." Danny said. "You take a look at his house, Flack?"

"I was waiting for you guys."

"What? You slacking or something?" Danny cajoled. "What have you been doing the last half an hour?"

"Talking to people. Getting statements. Its what I do."

"Danny, why don't you go with Flack." Stella suggested. "Check out the path Dusty took to get here and see where he lived. Sam and I will stay here and finish things up and wait for the ME's office."

"Follow me." Flack said to Danny, heading away from the scene. "Watch your step when we get back there. Hate for ya to get anything on your Steve Madden shoes there."

"Sean John." Danny corrected him.

"Whatever. Your worse than a woman with your designer shoes Messer."

"Hey, they're better than those fugly ties of yours Flack so step off."

* * *

Stella laughed and shook her head and looked over at Sam. Noticing the intense way the younger woman was watching the two men disappear through the crowd. There was definitely something more than simple co-workers lingering in the air.

"Those two are something, huh?" Stella asked. "Mutt and Jeff. They can go on like that for hours. Sam?"

"Hmmm?" she snapped out of her daze. "Sorry, Stel. Did you say something?"

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little tired." Sam replied. "I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"I've had many nights like that. Trust me. Too many glasses of wine and not enough hours to sleep it off. At least tell me you had a good time."

"I did. Best time I've had in a long while."

"Listen," Stella approached the next issue with caution. "I heard about the little incident with Lindsay.'

Sam sighed. "I knew it wouldn't take long to get around. Girl can't keep her mouth shut."

"I understand why there's some tension between the two of you."

"You mean other than the fact she has a big mouth?" Sam asked.

"You two are polar opposites." Stella explained. "She's this small town country girl and you're this big city girl. She sees the world through somewhat rose coloured glasses and you see it the way it really is. But if you gave her a chance, you'd probably really like her."

"If I gave her a chance? She's been doing nothing but bitching about me since I got here. I didn't put up with it in high school and I'm not putting up with it now. No offense to you or Mac, Stella, but what the hell were you guys thinking when you hired her? Or for keeping her as long as you have?"

"She's a great CSI." Stella replied.

"Well she's a shit ass human being. She treats people like crap. Calling my brother a socially awkward science geek? treating Danny like she does. Especially after the incident in the warehouse. He told me all about it. Her and her 'you took my shift and this is all my fault' crap. As if he didn't feel bad enough he'd just gotten the shit kicked out of him."

"I do admit she's a little..."

"Dramatic?"

"She really is a good cop. But you're an even better one and we just got you here and we don't feel like loosing you because of a problem with Lindsay. Especially when you fit in so well here."

"So what? We go to a counselling session? Try to has out our differences while trying not to kill one another? If she just kept her mouth shut there wouldn't be a problem."

"Sam, you can't go around knocking someone arund because of a stupid rumor. If you're going to do it, at least take it out of the lab. But Mac and I have decided that the four of us will sit down and see if we cant come to some sort of truce between the two of you. "

Sam snorted. "Right... she'll just tell you what she knows you want to hear and once she's out of there, it'll start all over again."

"You know that she's scared of you." Stella told her.

"She should be." Sam said, bagging the dead man's hands.

"Quite frankly, Samantha, so am I. You've got some anger management issues you need to work on. I read your file from Arizona. Every eval says the same thing. Excellent CSI but she has underlying emotional issues that require assistance in solving. You only went to one of six scheduled psych appointments."

"Stella, with all due respect, I don't need a therapist."

"You punched out a suspect." Stella pointed out.

"He called me a cunt!" Sam argued.

"You just cant go off half cocked because you hear something you don't like." Stella explained. I think it would do you a world of good to talk to someone. Get to the root of the problem and face it head on. Starting from when you were a kid."

Sam cleared her throat noisily and tried to hide the agitation in her voice. "What happened to me as a kid has nothing to do with the way I am now. And how so many people know about it is what I would like to know. I don't talk about my father and what he did to me and Adam and I just..." the anger and bitterness built quickly inside of her and she fought hard to control it. "I'm sorry, Stell. I just don't talk about it. To anyone."

"Well if you ever want to, kiddo, my shoulders are pretty good for crying on."

Sam smiled. "Thanks. I'll remember that."

"I really like you, Sam, and I just think it would be better for you in the long run, if you dealt with this now before its too late. It took way too long to find someone of your calibre and we can't afford to loose you."

She sighed. Relegated to the fact that Stella was not going to back down on this subject. "Fine." she said. "I'll talk. But just to you and Mac. No therapist."

"And this thing with you and Danny..."

"There is no me and Danny!" Sam snapped. "We're friends! That's it! Everyone needs to let it go already!"

"There's no rule against office relationships." Stella told her. "As long as you handle it professionally. Its not unusual for people who work together as much as we do to develop feelings for each other. I mean, we see each other more than most people see their families."

"Stel, there is no me and Danny." Sam said firmly."There will never be a me and Danny."

"How about a you and Flack?" Stella asked.

Sam hesitated before answering. "Where'd you hear that?" she asked curiously.

"You didn't deny it."

"I didn't admit it either. There's no me and anyone. And if there was, I won't be going around broadcasting it. Did you broadcast you and Mac right away?"

"No. We kept it quiet for a little while to avoid the gossip mill."

"My point exactly. But for what my opinion is worth, I think you and Mac make a pretty nice couple."

"That's funny." Stella said. "I was just thinking the same way about you and Flack. I notice the way you guys look at each other. Watch each other. The way he talks to you. Its different than the way he interacts with the rest of us. Seems a little soon, but if you guys are happy, what the hell? Go for it. And I haven't seen him this happy in... well, ever."

"Don's a really nice guy." Sam said, putting the lense cap back on her camera and setting it in her kit.

Stella found it a little odd that the new CSI didn't refer to him as Flack.Everyone called him Flack. Hell, he called told people to call him that when he was first introduced to someone. It only confirmed her suspicions that there was more to Sam's relationship with him than she was letting on.

"He's a great guy. He's got a big heart underneath all that tough guy, sarcasm armour. He's been a wonderful friend to me all the years we've worked together. He's got me through some tough times. And I've seen him through some real stupid times. He was dating this girl, if you want to call it that, and she was this rich stuck up dumb bimbo. I seriously wondered what the hell was wrong with him for being with her."

"Well, we all get lonely and need someone." Sam reasoned. "I've dated people that my family have wondered what the hell, too."

"I just don't want to see him get hurt." Stella said, watching the younger woman pack up and lock her kit so neatly and methodically. She remembered Adam mentioning his sister having a slight diagnosed case of obsessive compulsive disorder."I'm pretty protective of him," she continued."Ever since the bombing."

Sam arched a quizical eyebrow. "The what?"

"You don't know? About the bombing? How he nearly died? He never told you? No one told you?"

"This is the first time I've heard of it." Sam said. "What happened?'

"Flack and Mac were at a crime scene at this brokerage firm in Greenwich investigating the murder of a security guard. Someone had planted a bomb in the ceiling and the two of them and a few others were trapped inside when it detonated. Flack was hurt pretty bad. There were times we didn't think he was going to make it. Mac saved his life and... you know, I really think he should be the one to tell you all of this."

"Did you guys ever catch whoever did it?"

"We did. Thank God. This nut job Dean Lessing who worked the Department of Homeland Security and had been turned down by the Marines a few times. He said he was trying to make a point that our city was not ready for another terrorist attack. That we're still vulnerable."

"Hell of a way to do it." Sam said wryly. "No one tries petitions and letters any more? That's what the world's come down to? Killing people to make a point. I tell you, this world is full of crazies."

"So are you admitting it? That there's something going on between you and Flack?"

"We're friends, Stella." she said, standing up and stretching noisily. "That's it."

"Mm-hm." Stella regarded her skeptically. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. Not even Mac. Just don't hurt him, okay? He doesn't deserve to be hurt."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone." Sam assured her. "I'm out to make sure I don't get hurt."

"I'm sure he has the best of intentions." Stella said. "I think our work here is done. Why don't you run around the corner and see if the guy's need help and I'll stay here and wait for the ME. Just leave your kit here. You can work out of Danny's if need be."

Sam nodded in agreement and headed over, ducking under the crime scene tape that was held up for her by a young uniform who couldn't resist staring at her ass as she walked by.

"Quit lookin' at it!" she called without looking back. "Its not going to talk to you."

Stella smirked and shook her head and made her phone call.

* * *

Sam paused at the corner and looked around. Suddenly filled with this overwhelming sense of dread. Something didn't feel right. It felt as if someone was watching her. She'd felt it since they'd left the lab but it had subsided a little when they arrived at the scene. But now... something was up. Something was very, very wrong.

From a car parked across the street he watched her. Saw her pause at the corner and slowly glance around at her surroundings, studying it closely, a frown on her face. Traffic was busy. Both automobile and pedestrian. She'd never see him in a million years surrounded by all that activity. When she started to move once again, satisfied that everything was fine, he gathered the gun out of the glove compartment and climbed out of the car.

* * *

"So what's up, Flack?" Danny asked, as they walked side by side down the garbage strewn alleyway. Homeless people poking their heads out of their boxes and hastily assembled tents or even just a blanket or two, watching them pass both curiously and warily. Cops in that neck of the woods was never a good sign. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Samantha." he answered simply.

"All right. That's a pleasant topic of conversation. What about her?"

"You got some kind of plan on going after her as more than a friend, Danny?" Flack asked.

"I won't lie to you. She's real cute. Smart, funny, killer curves. Way different than anyone I've ever been with. And I'm interested and now that Lindsay and are on the outs, again, I was seriously considering it. Why?"

"I need you to stop considering it." Flack said "I'm asking you, as your best friend, to back off."

Danny frowned. "Why? You thinkin' of asking her out? You planning on trying to hook up with her?"

"I already have. Which is why I need you to back off. I don't care about the friend thing, but I need to know that you're not going to try anything else."

"When did this take place?" Danny asked. He couldn't say he was overly surprised. The way she'd been asking him all kinds of questions about Flack, the obvious way the two of them had been checking each other out the last couple of days.But he wasn't too impressed with the idea either.

"Some things happened when I went over to her place two days ago after work and..."

"Whoa... whoa... you went to her place? Why?"

"She needed some help with something and I..."

"And she just called you? Out of the blue?"

"I'm helping her out with some personal stuff." Flack explained. "And things got said between us and last night I got this phone call and... look, we just decided we're gonna try having a relationship."

"Kinda quick don't ya think?"

"You didn't see me saying that when you were gonna try and hook up with her." Flack said defensively.

"Thought you weren't the the date someone you work with type of guy?"

"Funny you said that. That brings me to something else. Why didn't you tell me you and Sam were talking about me/'

"Nothing to tell. She asked a couple of questions and I answered them. No big deal."

"You coulda told me she was asking about me."

"Why?" Danny asked. "You found out for yourself that she was interested so why did I need to tell you? Gotta say, you work quick, Flack. Thought maybe I'd get there ahead of you. Guess you're gonna take home that pool at the precinct, huh?"

"Why are you being so hostile about this?" Flack asked.

"Whose being hostile? I'm just saying you move quick. She's more than a lay, I hope."

"What?" Flack wanted to cuff Messer upside the head."Give me a break, Danny. It goes way beyond that."

"Look, if you're happy, Flack, and you're serious about having a real, actual relationship with her and not a repeat of Devon, then I will back off and not persue anything more than a friendship. But you break her heart, I break your face. Kapish? Which mansion is the one we're looking for here."

"Second one, on the left." Flack gestured in the direction. "The one with the hot tub and sauna."

"Cute, Flack. Cute." Danny sat his kit down and put on a fresh pair of gloves and grabbed his flashlight. He crouched down and pushed aside the dirty blanket that acted like a door and peered inside. "Anyone home?" he called.

"Just get your ass in there." Flack said. "And don't expect me to follow ya. You're on your own for this one."

"Wouldn't want ya to mess your suit or your fugly ties."Danny said and shimmied his way through the door.

"Leave my ties alone." Flack said. "And make it quick in there."

"Be a while." Danny called out. "This place is a goddamn palace."

"Messer, just shut up and get to work." Flack responded with a smirk.

* * *

Sam walked down the busy sidewalk and was just about to turn into the entrance of the alley way when someone stepped out of a recessed doorway and blocked her path. She tried to step around, offering up an apology, whey they grabbed her roughly by the arm.

She jumped back when she saw who it was. Yanking her arm out of his grasp. Visibly shaken, her heart pounded in her chest and her stomach churned.

"Aren't you happy to see me, sweetheart?" Zack asked "You seem surprised. Didn't your doting daddy call you and let you know I was on my way?"

"How did you find me here? At a crime scene?" she took a step back, her hand going instinctively to her gun.

"I've been following you since you left the lab." he replied. Whose your new boyfriend?"

'What? Who?"

"The cop with the glasses."

"He's a co-worker. Not like its really any of your business. Why are you even here? Why did you come to New York?"

"To get back what's mine." he replied simply.

"I am not yours." she informed him. "I haven't been yours in a long time. You had no right to come here."

"No right?" he spat. "You were going to be my wife! You walked out on me! That ring you sold and the money you took, my money?That tells me I have every goddamn right in the world to come here!"

She backed up again. "Don't come any closer to me, Zack." she warned.

"What? What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

"I left you because you're a disgusting, pitiful excuse for a man."she hissed. "And what I did with my ring and the money in our account is my goddamn business! Its over! I am done with you! I won't be treated like that. I deserve better than that!"

He took a lunging step towards her and his hand shot out and grabbed her around the neck. Forced her into the recessed doorway of an abandoned store. "You were nothing when I came along!" he spat in her face. "You're nothing without me! Just some fucked up mental case Brooklyn girl that no one else will ever want. Who needs to be slapped around once in a while and chained up like a dog to keep her in line! You'll never find anyone as good as me. You are going to get your ass in my car and I am taking that sorry, pathetic ass back to Arizona where I swear to God you will never see the light of day again!"

Sam's cell phone rang. She reached down to grab it. S.BONASERA the call display read.

"Don't even think about it." Zack warned her and snatched the phone from her hand. "Now you listen to me you little bitch. No one leaves me. No one. And you're going to pay for your stupidity. Understand? You're not going to get away with it. So you get your hand off of that gun there and come with me like a good girl and I promise you, I will make it quick and not too painful." he grabbed her by the arm once more and yanked her out onto the sidewalk.

* * *

Danny had finished his search and had come up with several wads of rolled cash he and Flack estimated at close to ten grand and some old newspaper clippings that gave a name to their dead guy and a reason for why he'd had so much money and may have had some serious mental problems.

His real name was Robert Vernon. He'd once been a highly successful and well respected investor in the city. Ten years ago, his wife and only child were killed in a car accident and he soon dropped out of the public eye and family and friends lost all contact with him.Danny assumed the grief over loosing the most important things in his life may have drove the man crazy. Caused him to loose all faith in humanity and seek a simpler, easier way of life for himself. Not that living on the streets was easy. But maybe he'd seen it as an escape from the pit of despair he lived in every day.

Stella called. Asked if they were done. And if Samantha was there. Yes and no, Danny had replied. Stella thought that that was odd considering she'd sent Samantha back there fifteen minutes ago and now she couldn't get a hold of her. She'd called her three times and it just rang. Could he try calling her and then attempting to find her? Danny tried calling himself and got the same result.

"What's up?" Flack asked, seeing the concerned expression on his best friend's face.

"Sam's gone awol. Stel's been trying to call her and there's no answer. She wants us to try and find her."

"I swear that woman needs detailed lessons on how to use that phone." Flack said jokingly.

* * *

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Sam said, fighting against the strong hand around her arm.

"Don't make things any worse for yourself." Zack told her, dragging her down the sidewalk. "And behave yourself. You're going to draw attention to yourself."

"You're fucking crazy, Zack! You've always been crazy! What the hell do you think your doing!"

"I told you. Taking back what's mine."

"I am not your's you sonofabitch!"she yelled and brought her free arm back and punched him in the face. It was only enough to startle him slightly, then get a backhand across her cheek that nearly knocked her off her feet.

"You fucking bitch!" Zack raged, and was about to grab a hold of her again when he was tackled from behind and sent sprawling face first onto the sidewalk.

"That's assaulting a police officer mother fucker!"Flack yelled,filled with indescribable rage. He firmly placed his knee in the startled, winded man's back. "A female officer at that! You come all the way to New York to knock around your ex-girlfriend and expect to get away with it?"

"That's assualt by a police officer!" Zack gasped and found himself lifted up slightly and thrown onto his back. "I'm a cop too, man! Take it easy!"

"Take it easy?! Buddy you're damn lucky we're in public or I'd beat your ass beyond recognition. I know who you are. I know all about you. Everything. How you like to smack around women half your size. Makes you feel like a big man, doesn't it."

"You okay?" Danny asked Sam, who had tears streaming down her face and was holding a hand to her throat.

She nodded.

"Lucky for you Flack and I just got to the end of the alley when we saw him draggin' ya off? Want me to call EMS? Have them look t you?"

Sam shook her head. "Let him go, Don." she said. "He's not worth it!"

"Get your ass up!" Flack grabbed Zack by the front of his shirt and yanked him roughly to his feet."Now this can either go two ways. I either lock your ass up or you get the hell in your car, go back to whatever piss ant motel your staying in, get your shit and get the fuck out of my city! What'll it be?"

"How about you take off your badge and your gun and I lay an ass whuppin' on you?" Zack retorted, stepping forward so he and Flack were eye to eye, chest to chest.

Flack laughed. "Don't tempt me, buddy. Danny, take Samantha back to the lab. I'll catch up."

"Let's go." Danny said to Sam and put an arm around her shoulders and led her away.

"See the little bitch is up to her old tricks, huh?" Zack laughed ruefully and shook his head. "Spreadin' lies. She likes to do that. Make shit up when she's all spiteful and angry. I never smacked her around."

"Yeah? Well hospital records don't lie. So why don't you back up a couple steps before I put you in the hospital."

"I don't know which one of you guys she's fucking, but I'm warning ya now, you'll pay for it. She'll make you suffer. Trust me."

"You don't get out of my face and you'll be suffering." Flack warned him.

"Big tough New York cop, huh?" Zack laughed.

"Want me to show you just how big and tough? Is that what you want?"

"Here I am, boss. Want a shot at me? Take it? Defend the bitch. It'll be the last thing you do. Go ahead. I said take your shot."

"And I said step the fuck back."

"You want a piece of me New York? Tell ya what? I'm staying at the Regency. You take off your badge and your gun and you and your buddy there come and find me. Room 807. Will see just how tough you are."

Flack smirked. "You're free to go." he said and stepped away. "Go.Get out of my face. Don't let me see you around her again."

Zack snorted and turned to walk away.

"Just to give you a fair warning," Flack called after him. "I'm off at eight. And its only a ten minute drive from where I am."

* * *

Danny pressed end on his cell phone. It was twenty two minutes past eight. Sid had called with official TOD on Robert Vernon AKA Dusty. Massive brain aneurysm. Natural cases. Which meant their job was over and it was up to someone else to track down the family.

"Wish they could all be that simple." Flack said, as he killed the ignition and they sat in the underground parking lot of the Regency.

They were both clocked out. Badges and guns off. Now they were just two pissed off guys looking for a little revenge. After the incident, Mac had had Samantha checked out by Hawkes. Other than being shaken up, she suffered from little more than a slightly bruised trachea, a massively bruised upper left arm, and a busted knuckle from punching Zack in the nose. He'd sent her home, letting Stella go with her for as long as she was needed. The last time Flack had called to check on things, Samantha was sleeping and Stella was on the way home.

That was an hour ago.

"Lets do this thing." Danny said and stepped out of the car.

Flack followed. They took the elevator up to the eight floor. Neither of them spoke a word. They didn't need to. It was the kind of friendship they had.

Several rounds of pounding on the door to 807 got them no response. They knew Zack was in there. The television was up full blast.

"Know how to pick a lock?" Flack asked Danny.

"Do I know how to pick a lock? What kind of question is that. It was Louie's speciality. Taught me a few of his moves." Danny took out his wallet, pulled out his credit card and slipped it in between the door and the frame. He wiggled it back and forth a few times and there was a loud click. "Nothing like a little B and E." Danny said and pushed the door open.

The room was trashed. All the sheets had been ripped off both double beds and the dresser and nightstands had been tipped over and the lamps shattered on the floor along with every picture that had been hanging on the wall. It reeked of alcohol. Zack was passed out, half naked, spreadeagled on his back, an empty twenty-sixer of JD on the floor by the bed along with a half empty two four of beer.

"Poor baby." Danny said sarcastically, taking in the busted nose.

There was an ice bucket on the floor at the foot of the bed. Flack picked it up and tossed the entire contents all over Zack's pathetic, drunk, prone form. The man gave a startled cry and sat up, quickly, mumbling curse words and looking around the room in confusion.

"Remember me?" Flack asked.

"Hey... New York..." Zack slurred when he recognized the face. "Did ya bring the bitch with ya? Maybe the three of us can have a little fun, know what I'm saying?"

"Danny." Flack said, as he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up sleeves.

"I'll leave you two alone." Danny said and left the room. "I'll be in the car." he called out before the door clicked close behind him.

* * *

Flack returned fifteen minutes later. His knuckles bruised and blood on his shirt that didn't belong to him.

"Well?" Danny asked, as his friend climbed behind the wheel and started the ignition. "You fuck him up or what?"

"Let's just say he won't be bothering Sam any more." Flack replied. "Or eating solid foods for a while."

He dropped Danny off at his apartment and then drove to Queens. It was close to ten when he was knocking on that apartment door, praying she would answer. And felt an enormous sense of relief when she did.

She'd been asleep on the couch. In a pair of black yoga pants and a red tank top for pyjamas. Her hair pulled into two pig tails. No make up on her face. To him she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"You okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes and his voice.

She smiled sleepily and leaned her head against the door. "I am now." she replied.

"I woke you up, didn't I." Flack said.

"Its okay." she assured him. "I was hoping you'd come by." she took in the blood on his shirt and his swollen knuckles and frowned, brow furrowed in concern. "What happened?" she asked.

"I needed to see you." he said. "I had to see you."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"The blood's not mine. That's all you need to know."

She just nodded. She didn't need to ask who it was from. She knew.

"I really needed to see you." Flack repeated and stepped closer to the door.

She smiled and twisted the front of his shirt in her hands and pulled him closer and down for a long, steamy toe curling kind of kiss that made his hair stand on end. Among other things.

"Really, really badly." he said.

"In that case," she said with a wide smile and yanked inside the apartment. "You better come inside."

**Aphina: a little bit of fluff is coming up soon! Enough with torturing the poor guy! Well, maybe just a bit longer**

**laplandgurl: happy to hear from you! I'm glad your enjoying**

**Madison Bellows: The Doctor is on the way!**

**Forest Angel: more Sam and Carmen hi-jinks to come! I'm glad you like the story! Welcome!**

**Eddiesgirl: Glad you like the Monroe bashing. Personally, I love it beyond words! LOL!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I own nothing you recognize. Please don't sue.**

**Its been way too l****ong**

"My old friend, I apologize

for the years that have passed

since the last time you and I

dusted off those memories.

But the running and the races

the people and the places

there's always somewhere else I had to be

Time gets slim

my old friend."

-My Old Friend, Tim McGraw

* * *

Carmen knew of Gavin Moran. She had heard the whispers when she first started about Flack's training partner tampering with evidence. A soda can left at a liquor store robbery gone bad. The clerk had been shot by gang bangers. Moran had been the responding officer, the one who had written down the dying man's last declaration, and when one of the descriptions of the perps was an exact match to an illegitimate son no one knew anything about, he scratched out all mention of the kid's name and took the soda can that held his DNA.

Mac had insisted that Flack be part of the investigation, despite the fact that Moran was a friend and Flack felt torn between protecting that friend and doing the right thing for the job. He hadn't even known about the son and Flack had thought he knew everything about the guy. He knew Moran's wife, his twin daughters. Nothing about a poor Hispanic girl he'd met on his beat and carried on a relationship with and fathered a child with. Flack had been crushed that Moran had done that to his family, and to his job. In the end, Moran was forced into early retirement to save his pension and his kid was protected for squealing on the actual bangers who did the deed.

Flack hadn't spoken to Moran since as far as Carmen knew. During the planning of the wedding , Samantha had told her that she had tried calling the phone number she got through the NYPD data base but it was out of service. There were no listings for a Gavin Moran in the phone book and the Moran's she did call had no idea who she was talking about. She thought it would have been nice if Moran could come to the wedding. Flack would be surprised to see him. In the end, she hadn't been able to track Moran down and the plans for a big wedding shelved in favor of an intimate ceremony in a judge's chambers attended only by Danny and Carmen. But Flack talked about Moran to Sam all the time, and about the guilt and anger he still harbored for having to be part of nailing a friend.

"Come on in." she said, pushing open the screen door. "I'll take you out back. He's out there with his kids."

"Never thought I'd see the day Donnie had kids." Moran commented, following her through the living room and into the kitchen. "He's got four, right?"

Carmen nodded. "This is youngest, Mikayla." she nodded to the cheerful, chatty baby on her hip. "She's almost two. And he's got three boys. Kieran whose going on nine and Daniel and Mackenzie. Twins. They'll be seven soon. And Don's an amazing father."

Moran shook his head in disbelief. "Wonders never cease to exist." he said. "She musta been a hell of a woman to make him settle down."

"She was. She was an amazing person. Great wife, incredible mother. Its just too bad they didn't get the happily ever after that they both deserved."

" I didn't even know he was married until a couple months ago and I ran into his old man. It's a damn shame what's happened. A damn shame. How's he doing with it?"

"He's coping at best. It was a hell of a blow. He's just trying to keep his head above water and go day by day. He's got these kids to worry about. They need him. And he needs them. But its going to take a long time for him to be whole again."

"If he ever is." Moran said quietly.

Carmen nodded. "How did you hear about it?"

"On the news last night. I heard the last name and knew it had to be some sort of relative. Then I saw the paper this morning and read it was his wife." Moran shook his head. "Damn shame." he repeated. "You knew her well? Worked with her?"

"She was my best friend. It went way beyond work. She was the sister I never had."

"Hell of a shock for everyone." Moran concluded.

"Its been tough." Carmen sighed and pulled open the sliding door that led out onto the deck.

Moran paused in the doorway. "Its been a long time since I've seen him." he said regretfully.

"He'll be glad to see you." Carmen assured him.

"I don't really know what to say." Moran sighed.

"Well, hello is usually a good start."

He smiled and followed her out onto the deck. He'd just stepped two feet out when Flack started coming up the steps towards the house. Talking to Danny over his shoulder and not paying attention to where he was going and who was in front of him.

"Don, someones here to see you." Carmen said before Flack could reach the top of the stairs.

"Yeah? Who is it?"

He was tired of people coming to see him. Guys from the precinct that he barely knew other than to greet each other by their last names when they passed each other in the hall. That worked under him and in their heart of hearts meant well by stopping by and passing on their condolences to their Lieutenant. But he felt uncomfortable with discussing anything personal with people he barely knew. The only people he wanted in his house, attempting to get him to talk about what had happened, were those closest to him. He hated seeing the pity in peoples eyes, the looks that told you they were thinking 'that poor bastard'. He felt sorry enough for himself and his kids without being made to feel worse.

And the flowers... it was beginning to look like a funeral home in the living room. Danny was starting to complain that the strong fragrances were making it hard for him to sleep. The constant parade of mourners offering their condolences was getting to be a littte much. Not to mention the members of the press that showed up announced on the door step or called looking for some kind of statement from him or any one close to him. What was he suppose say? My wife is dead. Some crazy, coked up piece of shit hiding out at what was suppose to be a secure scene decided he just couldn't allow the cops to find whatever evidence would lead them to him and took matters into his own hands. She shouldn't even have been in there alone. Stella had fucked up letting her go in there. He was bitter about that. Angry at one of his oldest friends. Angry at the department for not doing more, showing more. Angry at himself for not being able to protect her.

My wife is dead. My kids don't have a mother. And all people want me to talk about is whether or not I'm pissed at the department and Stella Bonasera. Instead of focusing on the life, they were focusing on the tragedy and the danger of the job.

Why couldn't people just give him some space to come to terms with what had happened? Time to pick himself up off of his feet and feel human again? And now another grieving member of the public who had no clue what he was going through had decided to show up at his house.

He looked up to where Carmen was standing and he froze in his steps. Time seemed to stand still. The two men standing there staring at each other, and Flack was taken back to that day fourteen years ago when he'd asked Mac to let him be the one to bring Moran in. The last time he'd ever seen Moran was leaving him at central booking. They hadn't spoken since.

"Da-dee!" Mikayla giggled and reached out for her father with her chubby little arms, breaking the silence. "Da-deeeee..."

Flack motioned for Carmen to hand him the baby.

"She needs to finish her breakfast." Carmen said. "There's cereal and banana on the table if you can manage to get her to keep it out of her hair."

"I know how to do it Carmen." Flack reminded her gently.

It was easy to forget the father side of Flack when all you mostly saw was the cop side of him. Other than outings she and Rick went on with the family or the birthday parties and special events she went to, she rarely saw the things he did with and for his kids. The mornings he let Sam sleep in and he'd cook the breakfast and feed the baby and take them all to the park afterwards. The way he'd get up to change dirty diapers or do a feeding despite the fact he'd worked a triple and had just gotten in, dead to the world. The simple, little things that so often were overlooked. There was more to Don Flack then a badge and a gun and it was easy to forget that.

"I know." she said with a smile and laid a hand on his arm as she headed down the stairs. "All right guys!" she yelled as she stepped onto the grass. "Whose butt do I get to kick?"

"You can't kick our butts!" Mackenzie exclaimed. "You're a girl, auntie Carmen!"

"And what's that suppose to mean young man?" she asked and grabbed him in a gentle head lock and tickled him until he was shrieking and giggling and down on the ground.

Flack smiled. Too see the kids that happy, after their mother was so viciously and suddenly taken away from them, was a bitter sweet moment. Because they were too young to understand fully what had happened, but old enough to realize she was never coming back. And watching Carmen with them, laughing and playing, he thought of Samantha and the childish, light hearted way she threw herself into every activity and play time, making up for her one less than ideal child hood.

"You got a beautiful family, Donnie." Moran commented. "You should be proud of them. And of yourself."

Flack nodded and looked back at the man that was once like a father to him. "What are you doing here, Gavin? How'd you even know where I lived?"

"I read about it in the newspaper." Moran explained. "I just wanted to come by and give my condolences. Called Mac Taylor. He told me where you guys were living."

"Been a long time." Flack said and climbed the stairs.

"Too long." Moran said. "I'm really sorry, Donnie. About your wife."

"Thank you." Flack's voice was barely a whisper. He'd almost convinced himself, playing with his kids, that Sam was still alive and that she'd out of the house any second to see what they were doing or join in on the fun. She was like that. A total hands on mother. He felt tears threaten and he cuddled his daughter to him and kissed her hair and breathed in that soft baby scent.

Moran laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, Donnie." he assured him. "One day, it won't hurt so bad when you think about her. One day, when you look at a picture of her or remember her voice, your heart won't ache as bad as it does now."

Flack shook his head.

"It'll get easier." Moran promised.

"Yeah? Well right this second, it hurts like a bastard." he cleared his throat and blinked back the tears. "You want a coffee or something? We can sit down. Talk."

"I'd like that." Moran said with a soft smile and followed the young man who was once like a son into the house.

* * *

"Got yourself a nice little place here." Moran commented, looking around the clean, spacious kitchen as Flack prepared coffee for them. The baby sat in her high chair feeding herself banana and watching Moran curiously, every so often offering him a huge smile.

"Thanks... we worked hard for it." Flack sat two mugs of coffee down on the table and sat down across from Moran.

"I was surprised when your old man said you'd run off and gotten married and started having kids. Never figured you for the whole nuclear family type."

"Neither did I until I met her." Flack admitted, watching his daughter out of the corner of his eye.

"Musta been something to make you settle down." Moran commented.

Flack smiled and nodded. "She is." he said and then his face fell when he realized what he'd said. "Was." he corrected himself.

Moran paid no mind to it. The event was still fresh and speaking about her in the present was understandable. "How'd ya meet her?"

"She came to work for the lab from Arizona. She was originally from Brooklyn and circumstances found her in Arizona. She was the sister of one of the lab tech. Guy's a detective now. Never thought I'd see that day. Fell in love with her the second I laid eyes on her."

Moran smiled.

"She changed me, Gavin. She made me want to be a better man. She saved me. Gave me what I never even realized I was looking for. She was my entire world." he paused and sipped his coffee. "She still is." he said, watching his daughter, a sad, lost expression on his face.

"Da-dee..." Mikayla said and offered up another one of her giggles and a handful of mashed banana. She reminded him so much of Samantha. The baby may have had his hair and his eyes, but her smile and her laugh and those freckles on her nose and those tiny ears were from her mother.

"You eat it." he said, politely declining the mess of banana.

He'd wanted a little girl so bad. After three boys, he wanted a little princess. Daddy's little girl. The barrettes in the hair and the earrings in her ears and the little dresses. The dolls and ballet shoes to compensate for the trucks and the sports equipment already in the house. Sam had said they'd try one more time and that was it. Maybe they were meant to have all boys, she had said, and had teased him that maybe he only made boy making sperm. So they'd tried again and when that ultrasound tech had said without a doubt at the twenty week check that that was in no doubt a girl, he'd cried right there and then.

That's it, Sam had said on their way home afterwards. Next week you're going in to get fixed!

It made him laugh even now. He could actually hear her say those words in his head. And he was worried one day he wouldn't hear that voice anymore.

"I'm scared Gavin." he said, voice quiet.

"About?"

"That one day I won't remember what her voice sounded like or what her face looked like."

Moran stared at Flack's tortured face.

"That I'll forget everything good that ever happened. All the times we had together. The way it felt to wake up beside her every morning. The way her skin felt. The way her hair smelled. I don't want to forget."

"How could you? You got four beautiful kids and a lifetime of memories to help you remember."

"Ten years is not a lifetime." Flack said. "It's not near long enough."

"No one ever said life was fair, Donnie. and I know it hurts like hell right now and you're wondering how in hell you're ever going to survive. But you will. You'll wake up one morning and it won't hurt that bad. I promise you that. And maybe one day, when you're ready, you'll even go on with your life."

Flack bristled at that comment. His eyes darkened and his hand tightened on his coffee cup. "That ain't ever gonna happen."

"You don't know that." Moran told him.

"Yeah. I do. 'Cause I won't let that happen. There will never be any one else. Ever. I won't let that happen. I've already had the best. Wouldn't be fair to someone else to compete with that."

"You're kids will need a mother." Moran pointed out.

"They've got enough aunts to help out with that."

"She wouldn't want you to close yourself off like that, Donnie."

"You don't know what she would want." he said angrily. "You didn't know her. Half the people coming here to talk to me never knew her and all they can talk about was what a good person she was, what a great cop. That she wouldn't want me to be so sad all the time. Well I am sad. I feel like I'm going insane. My wife is gone and she's never coming back. I miss her. And I have the right to miss her."

"Of course you do." Moran said. "But..."

"There's no buts in this, Gavin. And I don't want to talk about her anymore." he got up from the table quickly and went to the sink to rinse his mug and stood there, his hands on the ledge and his head hung low and his eyes closed.

Gavin pushed his chair away from the table and went over to the younger, grieving man and laid a fatherly hand on Flack's shoulder.

"You don't have to." he said quietly.

And with that Don Flack Jr turned and put his arms around the man that he loved like a father and sobbed like a baby.

"You don't have to." Moran assured him, stroking Flack's back.

"Everything I ever had is gone." Flack said. "She's not coming back, Gavin. Ever. And I can't live without her."

"Yes." Moran told him. "You can."

* * *

"Your an ass, Messer!" Carmen called over her shoulder as she chased the errant soccer ball down the driveway. Sent flying by Danny, aimed directly at her head when she told him how skinny his legs looked in shorts. It was true. The guy had the palest, scrawniest legs she'd ever seen in her entire life.

The soccer ball hit the front right tire on Danny's SUV and she bent to pick it up. For the second straight day, there was a navy blue Ford Taurus with tinted wheels sitting directly across from Flack's house. Any cop knew that a Taurus with tinted windows meant there were plain clothes, IAB or even the U.S. Marshal's office camped out on your door step. It was there when she got up, and she knew it would still be there long after she went to bed. What the hell is that all about?

"Auntie Carmen!" Daniel bellowed from the back yard. "Hurry up!"

Kieran suddenly appeared by her side. He was phenomenally intelligent and well spoken for his age. And nothing got by him. "Why is that car always there?" he asked.

"Here, take this." Carmen handed him the ball. "You go back with your brothers and tell your uncle Danny I want to talk to him. Okay?"

"Are they bad people?" he asked, brow furrowed, his squinted.

God does he look like his father when he does that, Carmen thought. "No," she assured him. "Probably just friends of your dad making sure you guys are okay. Can you go and get Uncle Danny please?"

"Sure." he said and ran off down the drive way.

She stood with her hands on her hips, watching the car, looking for some kind of movement from inside.

"What's up?" Danny asked as he jogged up to her.

"You notice anything weird since you've been here Danny?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Why?"

"That car has been sitting there since I got here." she explained. "Does Flack have plain clothes sitting on his place?"

"Don't ask me, Carmen. What he does is his business. Come on, let's go back with the kids and-"

"You're not a very good liar, Danny. You never have been." she narrowed her eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

She glared at him, hands on her hips, lips pursed.

"Nothing, Carmen." he insisted.

"Danny..."

"Look." Danny sighed heavily. "All I know is that Mac's put some guys on the house to make sure whoever shot Sam doesn't come here lookin' for Flack."

"If it was random why..." Carmen stopped, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "This wasn't random, was it Danny?"

He shook his head.

"What aren't you and Flack telling me? She was my friend, too. My best friend. And I love Flack and those kids and I don't want anything happening to them. So tell me what the hell is going on."

"The guy that shot Sam, DNA from the scene links him to the same family as the head guy of the Wilder crew. You heard about them, that Irish drug cartel Flack shut down a decade ago."

"How would they know it was Sam who was working that crime scene?"

"I think they just got lucky there. But this guy got away Carmen and no one can find him. And now that Sam's picture is spread all over the paper and in the news and they know they hit pay dirt, who knows what the hell they might try next. Retribution."

"It was over ten years ago." she said. "Why come back now?'

"Maybe they're looking to even the score. All I know is that that car is there for a reason and that reason is on the up and up. That's all you need to know." Danny turned and headed back down the driveway.

"Danny!" she called after him.

"Its all you need to know." he repeated. "Let it go, Carmen."

That was one thing Carmen could not to. Someone had taken away an integral part of her life.

She was looking for a little payback of her own.

* * *

Later that evening, as dusk was settling and the street lamps were coming on and the house was quiet, Don Flack sat on the edge of his six year old son's bed and tried, the best he could, to explain why mommy wasn't going to come back. Daniel had thrown a rare, yet intense temper tantrum over the way Carmen had cut his sandwich. Straight across instead of diagonally.

"That's not how mommy does it!" he'd yelled and threw it on the floor and burst into tears as he ran from the room.

Mommy always did everything right. All little kids thought that. And for five nights now mommy wasn't around to do the tucking into bed and the reading of the stories and the kissing and the cuddling in the dark and the runs for glasses of water in the middle of the night. She wasn't there to be the comforter of bad dreams or the one to let them climb into bed with her when daddy was late getting home. Such small things were major events to kids. And they were missing the routine. And her.

"I don't get it daddy." Mackenzie sat, his comforter pulled up to her chin. "Why'd mommy leave us if she loved us?"

"Maybe we were bad." Daniel reasoned. "Is that why she left? 'Cause we were bad?" tears sparkled in his blue eyes.

"Mommy didn't leave because you were bad or you did something wrong." Flack said. "She didn't want to leave you guys. She didn't have a choice."

"Did a bad guy get her?" Daniel asked fearfully.

Flack nodded.

"Is he in jail with all the other bad guys?" Mackenzie asked.

"Not yet. But he will be."

"When?" Daniel asked.

"Soon." Flack assured him. "But you guys have to realize that things are going to be different around here now that mommy's gone."

"I don't want things to be different." Mackenzie stated.

"When's she coming back?" Daniel asked.

"She can't come back." Flack replied.

"We won't ever see her again?" Daniel asked his voice shaking.

"One day. A long, long way away from now." Flack answered.

"Can we call her on the phone?" Mackenzie inquired hopefully.

"You can't even talk to her." Flack replied regretfully.

"Forever?" Daniel asked.

He nodded his head.

"Is mommy with God?" Mackenzie asked.

Flack fought back tears. Too choked up to answer.

"Its okay, daddy." Daniel slipped out of his covers and climbed up onto his father's lap and wrapped a tiny arm around Flack's neck. Kissed his father's cheek softly. "If mommy is with God than we should be happy, right?"

Flack nodded. Felt the tears spill down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, daddy." Daniel whispered, resting his head on his father's shoulder. "Mommy doesn't want you to be sad."

He wiped at his eyes and tucked Daniel back in bed and kissed his boys good night. Checked on Kieran and the baby. Both were fast asleep. Then he stood at the door to the master bedroom, forehead against the wood, hand on the door knob.

* * *

_I can't life without her Gavin._

_Yes. You can._

He turned the handle and pushed the door open and stepped slowly inside. He stood for a long time by the side of the bed. Taking in the sight of her night gown and the rumpled sheets. Her smell still lingering in the air. She was there. All around him. She'd always be there.

And that thought alone made him realize that Gavin was right. No matter how shattered his heart was, no matter how bad it hurt, he could live without her. He had to. For his kids. The kids that they had made together and she had carried inside of her. For himself. And most of all, for Samantha.

He picked up the night gown and held it to his face, breathing in that smell one last time. Then he went into the closet and tossed it into the laundry hamper. He stripped the sheets off the bed. Pillowcases and all. Threw them in the wash.

He couldn't bring himself to part with anything else. It was too soon. And he would never part with her ring. That would stay around his neck until he drew his last breath.

He settled down on his side on the bare mattress and gathered her pillow to his chest and clung tightly to it. Closed his eyes and thought of her.

It would be the best sleep he'd had in a long, long time.

**Aphina**

**Madison Bellows**

**EddiesGirl**

**laplandgurl**

**Bluehaven 4220**

**Forest Angel**

**Glad you all enjoyed the ass whuppin' parts. Unfortunately, there's going to be some consequences.**

**And some fluff!**


	17. Chapter 17

**WARNING: THIS IS RATED M PEOPLE**

**A HANDSOME MAN KNOCKED TWICE ON MY DOOR**

"You should let me love you

let me be the one to

give you everything you want and need

Baby good love and protection

make me your selection

show you the way love's supposed to be

Baby, you should let me love you."

-Let me Love You, Mario

**A/N: Corny song, I know. But I like it and this is my story so I used it**

**A/N 2: I'm new at writing smut so please be kind. Thanks to Aphina for all her suggestions!**

* * *

She had near perfect finger impressions on the pale skin of her neck and around her arm. A slightly swollen left cheek and a small cut under the left eye from when Zack had backhanded her. Seeing her like that only made the rage begin to build inside of him once again. And he couldn't escape the thought that if Danny and him hadn't have came along when they did, the end results would have far more horrific.

There was no doubt in Flack's mind that Zack would have killed her. He would have taken her to some God forsaken place where no would even think of looking or even know where to begin trying, and exact his revenge. And Zack would have made it as slow and excruciatingly painful as he possibly could have. Flack knew the type. He'd seen them many times before. Sat across interrogation tables from them and fought the urge to to beat the shit out of them or just pull out his gun and put them out of their misery. Rid the world of one twisted bastard at a time. Guys that couldn't accept the fact that a woman didn't love them anymore and had moved on.

There were two things he could not and would not tolerate in his job. His two main weaknesses. Guys that abused women and guys that violated children. Mac said he had a 'damsel in distress' complex. Flack told him he was the way he was because he still had a heart. That some ounce of compassion for humanity clung to him despite the horrors of the job.

But this time had been different. Other cases he would brood about for a couple of hours and feel better again. This was harder to deal with and get past. All the what ifs nagging his mind. This had hit close to home.

This time was personal.

And when she'd kissed him like that standing by her door, it became even more so.

"Where's your brother?" he asked, taking in the silence in the apartment as she locked and chained the door.

"He's at Kendall's. She won't spend the night with me here. She says me being in the next room makes her uncomfortable and impossible for her to relax during sex. And those two? Like rabbits."

"Sam, that is not a mental image I want to have of your brother. Ever." Flack toed offhis shoes and sat them by the door. "Stella stayed with you for a bit?" he asked.

"She left around seven. Then Carmen came and brought me something to eat and hung out for a bit."

"That's good." he said and flexed his hand over and over again, trying not to wince. He wasn't successful.

"Let me see." she said and took his hand in hers. Her fingertips gentle and loving on his bruised and swollen knuckles. "Let me get you some ice and something to clean that up." she offered.

"It's fine." Flack assured her. "It'll be okay."

"It could get infected. Fight bite. You know that. So go and sit down in the living room and let me look after it." she stepped away to head for the kitchen but he caught her gently by the wrist to stop her.

"Sam, honestly. It's fine. I'm more worried about you."

"I'm okay." she assured him.

He reached out and softly touched her face, fingertips trialing along the cut.

She noticed the look of immense compassion and tenderness in his eyes and the way his fingers felt on her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest and her head swam a little. The way that he could make her feel with one simple touch and one look into those blue eyes was indescribable.

"Why is it guys always nail you in the perfect spot?" she asked. "Right on the bone? Does someone go around teaching you guys how to do that?"

"Not all men hit." he assured her.

She smiled.

He pulled her closer to him and kissed her. Long and soft, one hand on her slender hip, the other on the side of her face.

"You're okay?" she asked when the kiss ended and they stood, foreheads resting together, her hands on his chest.

He nodded. "I'm fine. I just wanted to see you. Let you know I took care of things."

"Do you think it'll make things worse?" she asked, slight fear in her eyes. "That it just might piss him off even more and make him come here or cause problems at work for you? The last thing I want is him..."

He silenced her with another kiss. Longer. More intense. To the point where they were breathless, their hearts hammering in their chests. "I think we should worry about all of that tomorrow." he said.

"You know what this day calls for?" she asked, rubbing his sides.

He grinned.

"Other than that, I mean. Ice cream."

"Ice cream?"

"Ice cream makes everything better." she declared. "Especially Haagen Daaz Triple Brownie Overload ice cream." she turned to the freezer.

The tank top she had on barely covered the small of her back, showing off a large, colorful tattoo of lotus flowers that spread from one hip to the other. He found it incredibly sexy and couldn't help but reach out and run his fingers along the entire outline. Felt the goosebumps that pricked up on her smooth, sensitive skin.

"Surprised?" she asked, moving away to grab two spoons. She had to force herself to move away. Because if he touched her like that again, she didn't trust herself to not jump him right there and then in the kitchen.

"A little. You didn't seem like the type."

She showed him the tattoo of a lady bug on the top of her right foot. And her navel ring.

It took all the will power he had not to drop to his knees in the middle of the kitchen and kiss and lick and suck at that simple silver ring. The woman was astonishingly sexy. No one had had that much of an affect on him without even doing anything.

"I was thinking." he said. "How about you eat that ice cream and I eat..."

"Don't even finish that sentence." she said with a grin. Because I will probably say go right ahead, she thought and headed into the living room.

"You like torturing me, don' t you." Flack commented as he followed her.

"Actually? Yeah. I do." she smiled over her shoulder. "It's fun."

* * *

They snuggled in close together on the couch, Sam's legs tucked up beside her and her head on his shoulder, his arm around her slender body, hand resting on her hip. She had the t.v. on. A repeat of CSI.

"How do you watch this?" Flack asked. "You do the job and watch the show? What is up with that?"

"Strictly entertainment purposes. I like to see how authentic things are when they're investigating. Its pretty damn close."

"You mean except for the fact you don't get a hit in CODIS in thirty seconds and it takes longer than forty five minutes to solve a case, if you even solve it all."

"You are such a pessimist. To be honest, the real reason I watch is to see Nick and Warrick."

Flack frowned. "Who?"

She sighed exasperatedly. "Do you not watch t.v.?"

"I have enough soap opera and drama and comedy in my life. I watch ESPN and the Rangers. That's it."

"Nick and Warrick are CSIs." she explained. "That guy there? The white guy with all the muscles? That's Nick. And his buddy there, the really cute bi-racial guy with the killer eyes? That's Warrick. He's my favorite. You don't see guys like that in our lab."

"You're suppose to be watching this show to figure out the crime." Flack informed her. "Not check out the guys."

"Hey, I have enough crime in my life, thank you. Just not enough hot guys."

"Thanks." he laughed. "Makes me feel real good to hear that."

She giggled and kissed the under side of his chin. "Well you have one up on them. The detective in this is old and nasty."

"As opposed to?"

"Young, hot and sarcastic." she said and grinned up at him. "Did I mention my handcuff fetish yet?" her eyes sparkled playfully and she licked ice cream off the end of the spoon with the tip of her tongue.

"Do you mind?" he asked, shifting awkwardly on the couch. She was making eating ice cream a lewd act and he was already on edge enough without her adding to it.

"What?" she asked innocently, dipping her finger into the ice cream and scraping some of the side before raising her finger to her lips and licking it off slowly. "What am I doing?"

"Sam... stop... okay?"

"I am just eating my ice cream, Don. Relax. Are you that horny you're reading in to me eating ice cream?"

"Its the way you're eating the ice cream." he corrected her.

"I'm not eating it any way. Now if I was to do this..." she sat up and dipped her fingers in the container once again and smeared it on the side of his neck, just below his ear. The cold on his hot skin making him jump. And then her lips and her tongue were making short work of the ice cream.

"Samantha..." he moaned and closed his eyes, enjoying the soft, suckling of her lips and the slickness of her tongue and the light scrap of her teeth on his skin. Bringing him easily to arousal. No woman had ever gotten to him that quickly and that effortlessly. Devon had been about being pleased, not doing the same for someone else. This woman he could tell was the complete opposite.

She bit down gently on his ear lobe, then trailed the tip of her tongue to the corner of his mouth, nibbling at his top lip and looking him straight in the eye. Her fingers beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low and intense, blue eyes locked on golden brown.

"Do you want me to stop?" she countered and removed her hand from the front of his shirt.

"No." he said. "I don't."

She smiled and licked at his top lip and then the bottom, her fingers working on the buttons, then sliding over his stomach and down onto his belt buckle and lower. Caressing him gently through his pants. "You are very easy to please, detective." she said and squeezed his erection lightly and kissed him deeply.

He kissed her eagerly and hungrily. Grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto his lap before turning and dumping her flat on her back on the couch.

"You use that move on all your perps?" she asked.

"Only the cute ones." he replied and kissed her again.

"Don..." she grunted. "You're really, really heavy. Heavier than you look."

"Are you insinuating that I'm fat?" he teased her, kissing her lightly.

"Not fat. Just heavy. Personally, I like your love handles." she reached under his shirt and pinched his stomach through his wife beater.

"Have you ever considered I'm this heavy because you're abnormally small for a grown woman?" he asked, sparing her some of his weight by propping himself on his arm. He smoothed her bangs away from her forehead with his other hand and looked down into her trusting, warm eyes.

"You okay with this?" he asked quietly.

She nodded.

"'Cause if you're not, just tell me. We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. Okay?"

"Okay." she said in response and lifted her head to kiss him, her arms curling around his neck and pulling him closer.

He kissed her in return. Deep and passionate, his tongue delving into her warm, moist mouth and finding hers. Her legs circled his waist, bringing him closer and tighter to her. She moaned into his mouth when she felt his hardness against her. He kissed a gentle path from her mouth to her cheek and onto that sensitive spot below her ear. His hand sliding along her shoulder, fingers pulling the strap of her tank top to the side as he used his lips and his tongue to taste each soft slice of skin he uncovered.

"You're so beautiful." he told her, his lips on her collar bone. "You taste so good. Even without ice cream on you."

She giggled and then sighed and closed her eyes and arched into him as he licked and nibbled at the hallow of her neck and his hand slipped underneath her shirt to caress and fondle her breasts, his fingers toying with her erect nipples. Her fingers of one hand buried in his short hair, the other hand running up the back of his wife beater to feel the hard muscles in his back. She moaned at the feel of his tongue trailing along the edge of the the top at the swell of breasts. His hand slid from her breast and over her flat stomach and below the waist band of her shorts.

"No underwear, huh?" he chuckled against her neck. "You're a dirty litte girl, Samantha."

"You woke me up. These are my pyjamas. I don't wear underwear to bed."

"Easier access for me I guess." he said.

She was about to tell him to just shut up and do something already. His hand just resting on her lower stomach and his lips on her neck, but all that came out of her mouth was a small whimper when his hand slipped lower and his lips teased her nipple through her tank top. She yanked the shirt up, gasped and arched underneath him as his mouth closed around her sensitive peak. Sucking at her firmly.

"Donnie..." she breathed, opening her legs further, tightening her grip on his shoulders, finger nails digging into his flesh.

No one ever called him that outside of his parents and Gavin Moran. He hated that name. But coming out of her mouth, it sounded so exotic and beautiful. And so perfect.

His fingers slipped over her slick wetness as he explored every warm inch of her. Her eyes were closed tightly and her fingers scarping along his back and shoulders, her body responding eagerly to his ministrations. He sucked and licked at those gorgeous breasts, revelling in all the little noises she made beneath him, whispered words edging him on. He traced lazy circles over her clit and felt her shudder beneath him, pleasurable sensations coursing through her body.

"Are you okay?" he raised his head long enough to ask.

"Please..." she practically begged. "Don't stop... please don't stop... I need you to..." she moaned loudly and her back lifted off the couch as his lips found her nipple again just as he slid a finger towards her opening, his thumb stroking her clit. He pushed his finger inside of her, thrusting to the rhythm of his thumb.

He heard her breathing begin to quicken and she let out a long, low moan. He added another finger, moving faster and harder, feeling her urgency for completion as her body thrust against his fingers. He raised his head to look at her, watch the pleasure take over her.

"Samantha..." he said quietly. "Open your eyes.. open your eyes and look at me..."

She shook her head.

"Don't be scared or embarrassed. Open your eyes and look at me."

She slowly opened them and found herself gazing deep into those oceanic eyes.

"I want you to look at me when you come." he said. "I wanna watch it happen."

"I can't..." she managed and bit her lip to keep herself from screaming when his fingers went even deeper and his thumb began mover quicker. Determined.

"Yes.. you can." he assured her. "Come for me."

* * *

Those words sent her over the edge and her body bucked suddenly under him, his eyes riveted on her face as she came, long and powerful, over his hand, her inner walls clenching around his fingers, his name a soft cry escaping from her lips. The expression of sheer bliss on her face was enough to nearly send him over the edge and he leaned over to kiss her softly. When he felt her body finally come down from the high, he removed his fingers and pulled his hand away gently as she settled back into the couch, panting.

"You good?" he asked, gently wiping sweat from her brow with his finger tips.

"Mm-hm." was all that she could manage at that point. Her entire body throbbed. From head to toe. She had never in her life had an orgasm that all consuming and powerful. Especially from someone just using their fingers. It made her wonder how good the real deal would feel. "I can't feel my toes." she announced.

He couldn't help but laugh. And blush a little.

"Don't laugh!" she scolded him through a fit of giggles. "It's true. Not that I'm complaining or its a bad thing..."

"Definitely not a bad thing." he said and kissed her.

She put her hands on the back of his neck and returned the kiss. Slowly. Deeply.

In his mind, he briefly considered how deep he was getting with her. And how quickly it was happening. Only very briefly. Because the answer was simple. Real deep. And he was more than okay with that.

They kissed for a long time. Leisurely. Tasting each other. Their hands exploring each others bodies. Peeling clothes away, pressing kisses to every inch of flesh they uncovered. She loved the feel of his arms under her hands. They were strong and powerful and smooth. And beautiful. Every inch of him was. And she wanted to taste all of him. She met resistance when she attempted to pull the wife beater off of him. Saw the worried expression on his face and felt the tension in his body.

"I don't take it off." he said, hoping that he wasn't hurting her feelings, offending her in some way. "For anyone."

She frowned. "Does it have something to do with the bombing?" she asked.

"Who told you about that?" he inquired.

"Is it?" she pressed. "I know that you were hurt really bad and you almost didn't make it and..."

"Do we have to talk about this right this second? I kinda got other things on my mind right now. And we talk about that, I won't be in as good of a mood as I am right now."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." she sat up, forcing him back onto his heels.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she gathered up her top and slipped it back on. "I didn't mean it to hurt your feelings."

''You didn't." she lied. "But you made it clear that you obviously don't trust me."

"That's not true, Samantha." he sat on the edge of the couch and caught her by the arm as she went to step past him. "I do trust you. With my life. I just... I don't talk about it and I don't take my shirt off in front of people. Its not personal. Its not. Look," he pulled her closer to the couch and sat his hands on her hips. "It was a dark, painful time in my life and this is a new happy time in my life and I don't want the two of them fucking things up. I'm falling in love with you and I can't... I can't let the bombing ruin that feeling."

She nodded. "When you're ready to tell me, Don, I'll be here. But I want you to show me what ever it is that bothers you so bad."

"Samantha..."

"Please."

He sighed heavily. She had trusted him enough to let him into her personal space, let him do things to her that she probably hadn't experienced in a long time. The least he could do was show her some kind of trust in return. He lifted the wide beater up and over his head and tossed it on the couch.

She took in the sight of the thick, jagged surgical scar that marred the left side of his well muscled abdomen. Yet it wasn't a look of fright or disgust that appeared in her eyes. It was one of compassion and worry. And love. She reached out and traced her finger tips over it. "Does it hurt?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Sometimes." he admitted. "And it took me a long time to get back on my feet again afterwards and sometimes, I don't feel as if I'm fully on my feet yet. Like my life is still on hold. And that's why I don't want to talk about it right now. I will. Just not right now."

"You thought that this would bother me? Your scar?"

He nodded.

"Why would you think that? I'm not that kind of person, Don. Its just a scar. It doesn't measure what kind of man you are or change the way I feel about you. And I have a lot of scars. You just can't see them."

"Those are usually the worst ones." he said. "They never seem to fully heal."

"They're starting to." she said and ran her fingers over the scar again and smiled up at him. "You're helping them along."

He smiled and ran his hand from her wrist and up her arm and to the back of her neck, pulling her into him for a mind numbing, hormone raging kiss.

She slid her hands from his stomach and up his chest. Feeling the fine, dark hair over his firm muscles, opening her mouth wider to his. Letting him peel the tank top up and over her head and tease every smooth, pale inch of her flesh with his strong, capable hands and his warm mouth. Her entire body was on fire, her mind and heart racing. She'd never wanted or needed someone that badly before. It was overwhelming and exhilarating. And frightening.

He dropped to his knees and took her slender hips in his hands. Presses feathery kisses around her navel. Licking and suckling and nibbling at her soft flesh. Tugging at the ring with his teeth. And when he flattened his tongue over the area, throughoughly mositening it and then blowing on it, she cried out and grabbed at his shoulders.

"Oh God... stop..." she begged, the sensation of his tongue on her tinkling skin too much to bear. "Just stop... I can't take it..."

He grabbed her by the ass with both hands and yanked her towards him and pulled her down, maneuvering them until he had her on her back on the area rug by the couch and he slipped off her shorts and moved over her to find her lips in a hungry, greedy kiss.

She reached between them for his belt buckle, unclasping it anxiously, hurriedly popping open the button and yanking down the zipper. He moved away from her only long enough to remove his pants and boxers.

"Condom?" she asked, breathing heavy with desire.

Flack nodded and reached for his discarded pants, pulling a condom package from the back pocket.

"You had this planned?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

"I was hopeful." he replied and tore open the package and rolled the condom down his shaft. "You're nervous, aren't you." he said, noticing she was trembling slightly.

She nodded, bit her lip.

"We don't have to do this." he assured her. "I don't expect anything."

"I want to do this." she said confidently, despite the fact she felt anything but.

"I'm not going to hurt you." he promised and settled himself between her legs. He kissed her, the tip of his cock barely brushing against her opening when he felt her tense up completely. Pulling back to look at her, he saw the nervous and anxious expression all over her face and in her eyes. Uneasiness. And worst of all, fear.

This is not a good idea, he told himself and decided to pull the plug on it right then and there. She wasn't ready for this. He'd been a thoughtless, ignorant prick for even pretending she would be. The events of the day had not only bruised her, but made her needy and left searching for some reassurance that she'd made it out okay. Searching for the satisfaction of feeling loved and being loved. The run in with Zack had brought back hordes of painful, unwelcome memories. And as badly as he wanted her, and as much as it killed him to sacrifice his own needs, he cared about her too much to push her into anything. So he backed off.

"I'm sorry." she whispered.

"Its okay." he assured her.

"I thought I could...I want to...believe me I want to. And I want you. But I just can't."

"Sam, you don't have to explain anything to me. Okay? I understand."

Tears formed in her eyes. She felt ashamed. Embarrassed. Unworthy. "I'm sorry, Don." she said, her head hung low.

"Hey." he placed his hand along her face and made her look at him. "There's no reason for you to be sorry. I understand. Completely. And really, this is not the way I wanted our first time to be. You deserve better than your brother's living room floor. Way better. I'm talking something nice and romantic better."

"I'm sorry. This isn't fair to you and I..."

He silenced her with a tender kiss. "I wasn't expecting anything from you. It was a really screwed up day and its brought a lot of things back for you."

She nodded.

"And that's why this can't happen. Not on this night. I don't want me and you turning into a bad memory because of him. Am I making any sense?"

"You are. Perfect sense. You're not angry?'

"Nothing to be angry about." he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling away from her and removing the condom and climbing back into his boxers and pants.

"Please don't leave." she nearly begged, pulling on her pyjamas.

"What makes you think I was leaving? I just didn't want to be walking around your brother's place naked." he held up the condom. "Garbage?" he asked.

"Kitchen under the sink." she replied and gathered herself together.

* * *

She was sitting on the couch when he came back, doing up his pants and buckling his belt. He sat down beside her.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

She nodded and leaned into him and he kissed the side of her head. "At least let me to something for you." she said.

"Samantha, you don't have to..."

She was already on her knees in front of him, settling herself between his legs.

"You don't have to do this." he told her.

She smiled and reached for his belt. "I want to." she said.

Her lips were on his navel as she undid the belt buckle, then slowly undid the zipper. Sitting back on her heels as she peeled the pants off of him and tossed them aside. She spread a trail of fiery red hot kisses down his body until she came to the top of his boxers. Her tongue traced the underwear line before her lips teased his hard cock through the material of his boxers, her hands caressing his thighs.

He moaned as she began slowly peeling off his boxers to reveal his erection.

"Very, very nice, Detective Flack." she commented and licked at the inside of his thigh. "Now I want you to close your eyes." she said, nibbling at the skin of his inner thigh.

Flack looked at her warily.

"No pain. I promise. Just close your eyes. Trust me. You'll like it."

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

"Just trust me, Don." she said and dipped her fingers into the nearly melted ice cream and proceeded to smear it along his cock.

"What the fuck!" he nearly bellowed at the cold she was applying on his aching erection. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. "Did you just...?"

"Lots of ways to eat ice cream." she said and took his cock in her hand and licked from the base to the tip, and then back down again. Every side and every possible inch, cleaning the ice cream off of him completely. She teased the tip of his cock with her tongue before wrapping her lips around him and taking him deeply into her mouth.

His hands were in her hair and his head tipped back in pleasure, cursing loudly.

She used her hand to stroke his cock firmly, matching the rhythm with her mouth. She felt the grip he had on her hr tighten even more as he thrust into her mouth. She could tell he was getting close. It was amazing he'd lasted as long as he did after the previous interruption they'd had. She added suction to her movements and tightened her hand and quickened the pace.

"Fuck, Sam..." he groaned loudly. "I'm gonna cum." More a warning than anything, in case she didn't want him doing so in her mouth.

She felt his body begin to shudder and he ejaculated into her mouth. Biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood in order to keep himself from screaming. She swallowed every drop, sucked him until he was completely dry and spent. Then pulled away and sat back on her heels with a bright smile on her face.

"Jesus... fucking... Christ..." was all he could manage, chest heaving, arm over his eyes.

"I even clean my own mess." she said and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Opening his eyes, he looked down at her, touching her face softly, his eyes searching hers.

"You're welcome." she grinned and pressed a kiss to his stomach and ran a hand up his thigh.

"Fuck, don't do that." he said, brushing her hand away. '''Cause I don't think my heart can take that right now."

"Getting too old for this sort of thing?" she asked.

"Funny."

"You're how old, Don?" she teased, getting on her knees and moving closer to him. "All your aching bones and your grey hair?"

"You're a real smart ass, you know that?"

"I know." she used his thighs to push herself up onto her feet and leaned over to kiss him.

He ran his hands over her ass and up to the small of her back. "You're incredible." he told her, pulling her into his lap.

She smiled and nestled her face into the side of his neck, her hand on the back of his head, fingers massaging his scalp. "Will you stay here tonight?" she asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"I want you to. I want you to hold me and make me feel safe and protected. Loved. Do you want to stay?"

"Baby, there is no other place in this world I'd rather be." he told her.

She raised her head and they kissed long and leisurely. Uncomfortable with the thought of taking him to the bed her brother sent his nights in, they curled up together on the couch. The best it would allow a six foot two guy to. Lying on his side with his back to the rear of the couch, her tiny body wrapped securely in his arms, her face in his chest. Her eyes were closed as she cuddled in tight.

"Sweet dreams of sweet things." he whispered to her in the dark.

She had fallen asleep quickly and effortlessly.

Almost as quickly and effortlessly as she'd stolen his heart.

* * *

When she woke up the following morning to the persistent buzzing of the alarm on her cell phone on the coffee table, she was disappointed to find herself alone. Sometime in the early morning hours, he'd managed to untangle himself from her arms and silently climb off the couch, dress and leave. She briefly remembered him saying something about having to go to his place before shift and kissing her on the lips and on her eyes. Had she responded? She couldn't remember.

She leaned over the edge of the couch and reached for her cell phone. Switching off the alarm, she tossed the phone aside and settled back in under the blanket. It smelled like him. And the smell was comforting and warm. She lay there for several long minutes, eyes closed, breathing in that wonderful, manly scent that brought back all the memories of the amazing, erotic night before. It brought a broad smile to her lips. No man had ever made her feel like that. Ever. No man had ever made her come like that. With Zack it had seemed like a chore or an effort. With Flack it happened easily. And powerfully.

Gotta get up for work, she thought with a sigh and rolled over onto her back. Carmen would be there in an hour so they could grab a tea and a bagel and hop the subway together. I still have to shower and clean the living room a bit and get dressed. Check my e-mail. She stared up at the ceiling, seriously contemplated calling in sick for a few minutes before deciding that wasn't the best idea in a new job. Mac would not like that one bit. One thing he liked was reliability.

She sat up and yawned and rubbed at her weary eyes. Her back ached from spending the night on the rickety old couch. But it was a night and a back pain she'd relive all over again. She swung her legs over the side of the couch and stood. Her throat felt tight and dry. An aftermath of Zack nearly choking her to death. Hawkes said it was deep bruising and would hurt like a bastard for a while.

First thing she did was go over to her lap top on the dining room table. She'd left it on and open all night. Luckily the battery wasn't dead as she tapped the mouse pad to get the screen to come to life.

One e-mail. Call me Miss Popular, she thought and clicked on it.

Thursday July 13 2008 7:02 a.m.

to: det.s.ross

from: det.d.flack

Just to let you know, you snore. LOUD. And you talk in your sleep. REALLY LOUD.

P.S.: I really do love you

She smiled and clicked on reply.

Thursday July 13 2008 8:03 a.m.

to: det.d.flack

from: det s. ross

Just to let you know, you had your knee stuck in my ass half the night and your big feet were getting in the way.

P.S.: Me too

She hit send and waited a few minutes. Sure enough, the computer beeped. In coming e-mail.

to: det.s.ross

from:det.d.flack

That wasn't my knee and you know what they say about guys with big feet.

P.S. You just made my entire day.

P.P.S. Now get your ass to work.

She grinned and turned off her computer and shut the lid.

Life was going to be okay.

She wasn't scared anymore.

**Long list tonight! I love it!**

**Aphina:**thanks for the help with the smut! Told ya I'd kick a little in there. LOL! I am getting better at it. Gavin will make another appearance when Flack needs him the most. At the funeral.

**Madison Bellows:**Much thankies for your review! The Wilder Gang will play a crucial role in her death and in Flack's future.

**Lily moonlight and Bluehaven 4220**: Zack will make a trip to the crime lab, Flack will have Gerrard issues, Sam will have a run in with Sinclair and be handed a lawsuit!

**EddiesGirl:**lots more to come! More fluff! Gotta have more fluff! LOL!

**notreadytoletgo**: sorry for the Monroe bashing. I actually liked her until the writers massacared the character

**Forest Angel**: The part with the kids was tough to write. I actually had Carmen and Danny talking to them and changed it to Flack while I was editing

**Mauveine**: welcome to my baby! Thanks for the lovely words.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sam belongs to me, Carmen belongs to Aphina and the rest belong to CBS and Mr Bruckheimer**

**It started on the subway and led straight to my heart**

"Every moral has a story

every story has an end

every battle has its glory

and its consequences"

-Glory and Consequences, Ben Harper

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Carmen asked.

They were on the crowded 9:15 am subway heading into mid town.

"You've asked me that four times already." Sam reminded her, sipping a steaming cup of tea and scanning the classifieds in a copy of that day's New York Post, a pen in her hand. "and I feel pretty good yet again."

"You're pretty bubbly and cheerful this morning." Carmen observed, eyeing her friend suspiciously. "After everything that happened yesterday, I thought you'd be a little more, I don't know, a little less you. You've got this weird glow to you. Its like..." Carmen's eyes widened. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "You got laid last night1'

"What!?" Sam tried not to blush. "No! I mean, I wish, but no."

"So why are you glowing then?"

"You're imagining things." Sam told her.

"Samantha... don't make me beat it out of you!"

"Okay... I almost got laid last night." she admitted, circling an add for a two bedroom in lower Manhattan. She and Carmen had decided that the only way either of them would afford a place in any part of Manhattan remotely close to work, was if they pooled their resources and lived together for at least a one year lease.

"Define almost." Carmen said.

"What's there to define? It almost happened but didn't."

"Now that's frustrating. Here..." holds a paper bag out to Sam. "Have a donut."

Sam peered in the bag and helped herself to a pink sprinkle donut. "What is it with you and these things?" she asked.

"I'm sexually frustrated too. So spill. Who'd it almost happen with?" Carmen already knew. She just wanted to see if her friend was up to admitting it or not.

"No one you know." Sam replied.

"You sure?" Carmen took her cell phone out of her purse. "'Cause I can call Flack right now and..."

Sam snatched the phone out of her friend's hand. "I just said its no one you know." she repeated.

Carmen grabbed a hold of the other woman's ponytail and yanked on it playfully. "Tell me!" she cajoled. "Tell me! You want to tell me! You are dying to tell me!"

"All right! All right! Shit!" Sam reclaimed her hair. "It was Flack. Okay? Happy that I 'fessed up? Just please do not tell anyone. We want to keep it quiet until we actually see where this is going."

Carmen nodded. "I can understand that. Where do you want it to go?"

Sam grinned and bit into the donut.

"I mean other than in each others pants." Carmen snickered.

"Honestly?" Sam sipped her tea. "I'd like it to go pretty far. I'm majorly in love with this guy, Carmen."

She smiled and squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Does it feel good to admit that out loud?"

"It just feels right." Sam said. "Nothing has ever felt more right in my life."

"That's the way it should feel." Carmen informed her.

Samantha nodded, a bright smile on her face, genuinely happy for the first time in as long as she could remember. She closed the paper and stuffed it into the knapsack resting at her feet. She yawned and looked around the crowded train. People watch. A fall back from the job was the fact that you noticed every little thing other people did. And analysed it if something looked the least bit out of sorts.

There was a guy standing by the doors. Holding on to the over head bar with one hand while listening to his I-pod in one ear and reading a wrinkled copy of Time with his free hand. Fairly tall, a nice muscular build on display in a pair of baggy faded jeans and a simple black t-shirt and black motorcycle boots. Short, wavy near black hair and a couple days worth of stubble on his rugged, handsome face. He was impressive to say the least.

He felt someones eyes on him and looked over. Gave her a small, almost shy smile and went back to his magazine.

"Check out that guy over there." Sam nudged Carmen with her elbow. "He's kinda cute."

"Which guy?" Carmen asked. "And why in the hell are you looking at guys when you've got a massively hot one for yourself?"

"Because I'm human." Sam replied. "Seriously, though. The guy standing by the doors. The one listening to the I-pod and reading Time."

Carmen glanced over. "He's okay." she concluded.

"Okay?" Sam exclaimed. "Girl what is wrong with you! You need glasses! He is more than okay! He's fine! I like the dark and brooding bad ass type."

"Sam, you like a lot of types." Carmen declared and received a hard slap on the shoulder.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean!" Sam laughed. "I just appreciate good looking men! Get up and go over there and ask him what his name is. Say something. Bump into him even."

Carmen looked mortified at the thought. "What is wrong with you is more like it! I'm not like you, Samantha. I can't just walk up to a guy and start talking to him."

"Oh my God! And you say you're from New York!"

"I'm not as easy with those types of things as you are." Carmen reasoned. "You'll talk to anyone."

"Fine." Sam stood up. "I'll go over and talk to him and do your dirty work for you."

"Sit your ass down!" Carmen grabbed her friend by the arm and yanked her back down into her seat. "You're mental! You really are! All that sexual frustration is melting your brain. Keep eating that donut. You'll be fine."

"You know," Sam licked some icing off her finger. "I am determined to have wild, crazy sex with that man by the end of the weekend if it kills me! I am going to toss all my issues out the window and say take me now and I won't care where we are or whose there or nothing!"

"Remind me not to be around you and Flack anytime for the rest of the week." Carmen joked.

The guy over by the doors had come to realize that the two women in the far back, left window seat were non-conspicuously checking him out. He felt their eyes on them and heard their giggling.It was annoying. Immature little girls. Which was too bad because they were both exceptionally attractive. The one with the auburn hair was more his speed. She looked like a challenge. He kept raising and lowering his magazine to get a better look at her.

"He's checking you out." Sam said to her friend, nudging her again.

"Good for him." Carmen responded. She tried not to make it too obvious she was doing the same.

Their stop was announced and they gathered their things and made their way to the side doors. The guy that they'd been admiring was getting off at the same place, and when he and Carmen nearly became wedged together when the doors opened, and she mumbled an apology, he graciously stepped back and motioned for her to go first.

"Hey!" Sam called to him after they were off the train and heading in different directions. "What's your name?"

"Tim." he replied. "But people call me Speed."

"Nice meeting you, Speed." Sam said and then hurried off to catch up to Carmen who'd abandoned her on the platform. "He's even cuter up close." she commented.

"Is that all you think of?" Carmen asked. "You do need to get laid."

"You have no idea." Sam sighed. "Have any more donuts?"

* * *

"So how's Sam doing?" Danny asked, plopping down on the couch in the break room beside Carmen. "She didn't come in today?"

"She's down talking to Mac. And Sinclair."

"Uh-oh. That's never good. Bet ya its about the complaint Lindsay filed after their incident couple days back in the locker room."

"Your girlfriend is a fucking bitch, Danny." Carmen gruffly informed him. "She brought that one herself nut not keeping her mouth shut. Sam may be little, but she won't tolerate that shit. Especially when it comes to her brother. She'll die to protect him."

"I know. And vice versa. They're pretty tight. And for the record, Lindsay is not my girlfriend."

"Sorry. Fuck buddy." Carmen snorted. "You've got seriously bad taste, Messer. Your judgement is worse now than in the academy."

"Easy, Devine. Easy. So Sam's all right after the little incident yesterday?"

"She's a little sore and bruised but she's healing nicely. She's getting extra help with that."

Danny cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

"You know, don't you." Carmen stated. "About Sam and Flack."

"Flack may have mentioned something..." Danny said vaguely.

"You look pissed. Thought you'd be happy for your best friend. Were you interested in her yourself?"

"A little." Danny admitted, stretching out his legs and propping his feet on the coffee table in front of them. "All this drama with Lindsay...I just..." he sighed and tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "I just want to be happy, Carmen. Happy and in love and have someone love me. Wholly and unconditionally. I mean, I ain't getting any younger. And I am happy for Flack. I am. He's a good guy and he needs a decent, good woman in his life. Someone to keep him grounded."

"But..." Carmen prodded.

"But I know Flack. Very well, and he doesn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to steady relationships. I don't think he's been in one that's last longer than a few months. "

"Well, if its any consolation," Carmen said and sipped a cup of coffee. "I think this here is the real deal. She seems pretty crazy about him. "

"I hope it is." Danny said. "I really do. For both of them. Everything they've both been through. I just don't want to see either f them get hurt."

"I'll break both his goddamn arms and legs if he hurts her." Carmen declared.

Danny nodded. "Somethin' about her Carm... I can't quite put my finger on it. I just wanna protect her all the time. You look in her eyes and even though she's smiling and laughing, she looks so sad. And so..."

"Wounded." Carmen finished.

Danny sighed. "Speaking of walking wounded." he said and opened his eyes and turned his head sideways to look at her. "You ever hear from Matthew?"

The name made her bristle. The name that she associated with fear and hate. The ex husband who had destroyed her soul and very nearly destroyed her life. Ended it. "Unfortunately." she said through gritted teeth. "I couldn't have a passive ex-husband, could I? I had to have the bi-polar, fucked up one."

Danny chuckled. "Matthew and that guy Zack are soul mates. They'd get along well. Both pricks."

Carmen laughed. "That's a understatement. And can you believe that even after all this time he still has that ridiculous, nasty tattoo and still goes on and on about Tanglewood being the be all and end all of civilization? Even with that sonofabitch Sonny behind bars. You think they could still be in operation? Have you heard anything recently?"

"I haven't hear nothin' lately, but there's no doubt in my mind that they are still up and running. Sonny knows a lot of people and you can be sure he's lookin' to settle old scores. Did you know Sam used to date a Pelham Bay guy before movin' to Arizona?"

Carmen shook her head. "I didn't."

"She knows Sonny very well. Said she had her share of run-ins with him and punched him in the face once. Can you believe that?" Danny snickered. "She is a feisty little brat, I'll give her that. You should see her with the perps. And she was in interrogation the other day and Hawkes said she blew him and Mac away she was that good. You ask me, Flack's in trouble with that one."

"She's fearless to a fault." Carmen sighed. "Either gonna come in handy one day or get her killed."

"Hope it ain't the latter." Danny said and suppressed a shiver at the thought.

"Hey, guys!" Lindsay greeted cheerfully as she entered the room behind them. Unbeknown-est to them, she'd actually been standing in the doorway the entire time, listening silently and intently. They had unwittingly added to her ammunition.

"Hey." Danny said simply as Lindsay came around the couch. A look of coonfusion and surprise on his face when she pecked his cheek.

Carmen raised an eyebrow and offered a small nod and a polite smile as Lindsay sat across from them.

"What'cha guys talking about?" Lindsay asked curiously.

"Odds and ends." Danny replied.

"Anything interesting about those odds and ends?"

Carmen shrugged and sipped her coffee.

"Thought maybe it was about Sam being down in Mac's office being chewed out by Sinclair."

"All your doing, I assume." Carmen said. "Must make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside to have caused someone some extra grief."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to her yesterday," Lindsay said. "It was horrible and I feel awful."

"Yeah? You're a real picture of misery." Carmen said wryly.

"Besides," Danny said. "We are steering clear of the office gossip."

"I just think its really screwed up." Lindsay commented. "Getting in trouble your first week."

"I think you should just mind your own business." Carmen suggested.

"Well if I was Mac..." Lindsay began.

"Which you're not. Thank God." Danny added.

"... I wouldn't put up with that." Lindsay finished.

"If I was Mac," Danny chimed in. "I'd be tellin' you to shut your pie hole."

Carmen snickered.

"All I'm trying to say is that is that she's having all these problems and now Flack's falling all over, acting like a body guard."

Danny noticed Carmen getting her cackles up beside him. "Lindsay," he warned. "If I were you, I'd stop while you're ahead."

"You know, I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were already sleeping together." she continued. "I mean, they both seem desperate enough."

"Lindsay." Danny's tone was firm. "Shut your goddamn gate."

"I don't want to hear any more." Carmen announced and finished her coffee and stood up. "Danny, when we're alone, we'll go back to our conversation."

He nodded. Watched her leave the room. Saw her stop outside in the hall and make a call on her cell. Then he turned cold, stern eyes on Lindsay. "You got a real knack for pissin' people off." he informed her.

"Its not my fault you people are over sensitive." Lindsay said. "Do you think I'm right? About Sam and Flack?"

Danny got up from the couch. "One, I think you need to keep your mouth off my best friend. Two, I think you need to stop being so jealous and grow up. And three, I think you need to start pulling your weight around here and be more productive."

"Danny..."

"Gotta go." he said as he left the room. "I'm a busy man."

Lindsay crossed her arms around her chest and pouted.

And plotted.

* * *

At the same time Carmen and Danny talked about Tanglewood, Flack walked through the door of the precinct. He'd spent the last hour re-interviewing a witness in a month old murder at a night club in the Bronx who had called to say he remembered more of the incident. The interview had garnered him about as much as he already had from the man. Not a hell of a lot. It had been a waste of valuable time and Flack was not impressed.

And what had started out as a pleasant morning that extended from a more than pleasant night was about to become majorly fucked up at the sight of Gerrard tossing open his office door so aggressively the windows of this office shook.

"DETECTIVE FLACK!" Gerrard roared above the noisey, busy din of the precinct. "A WORD PLEASE!"

"Is there a problem, cap?" he asked.

"You could say that! My office! NOW!"

Flack sighed and reluctantly followed the older man, trying to avoid the looks on the other detectives faces as they watched him pass by. And for a brief moment, he wondered if this uneasiness and slight embarrassment was what Dean Truby experienced the night Mac arrested him mere yards away.

Gerrard slammed the door shut as Flack stepped into the office.

"Sit down." Gerrard demanded.

"What's going on?" Flack asked, knowing full well what or who it was but decided ignorance was his best defence.

"I said sit down, Flack!" Gerrard seethed.

Flack unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat in one of the uncomfortable metal chairs in front of Gerrard's cluttered desk. "So what's this about?" he asked casually.

"This is what this is about!" Gerrard slapped a complaint form in Flack's lap. Followed by a report from the ER at Trinity General. "I received a very interesting call while you were out, Flack. From a Zack Turner. An Arizona state trooper. Is this ringing any bells?"

"I've never been to Arizona." Flack said.

"Don't get smart, Flack. You know who I'm talking about. The guy you tackled on the street yesterday. And then paid a visit to at his hotel room."

"After hours." Flack pointed out. "I was clocked out. What I do then is my business."

"You damn near busted his ribs tackling him to the ground!" Gerrard yelled.

"He assaulted a police officer." Flack stated.

"Who interestingly enough, is the new CSI and his ex wife." Gerrard reminded him.

"Fiancee." Flack corrected. "She's his ex fiancee. They were never married."

Gerrard glared angrily at Flack.

"Well they weren't." Flack said. "And what should I have done? Stand there while he slaps the shit out of her? Abducts her? 'Cause that was his plan, you know. He was going to abduct her and take her somewhere and do God knows what sick crazy shit to her. He's been harassing her for nearly three weeks. He came here looking for her. And I just turn my back like nothing was happening?"

"Do you have some sort of knight in shining armour complex, Flack?"

"You're starting to sound like Mac Taylor." Flack commented and saw the rage build in Gerrard's eyes. He just couldn't help throwing that in. Knowing the way Gerrard had tried to screw Mac over Clay Dobson's death and Mac turning the tables. Gerrard despised Mac and vice versa and Flack couldn't resist the opportunity to get one up on Gerrard.

"What is it with you guys and those girls up in the lab? First Messer and that girl Monroe. Then Taylor and Bonasera. And now you! What the hell is Taylor running up there? A brothel?"

Flack cringed in his seat and fought to maintain his composure. "She's my friend, sir. That's it."

"You always go and break into someones hotel room and put them in the ER over night for a friend?"

Flack didn't respond. He just looked Gerrard dead in the eye.

"You're just goddamn lucky he isn't filing charges against you! I talked him out of that! Do yourself a favor, Flack. Stay away from this girl."

"Sir, with all due respect, I can't do that."

Gerrard took a deep breath and exhaled slowly."You know, Flack. You're father never got mixed up with women he worked with. And up until now, neither of you."

"My father just beat on the woman he had." Flack fumed.

"You're father was a hell of a cop and is a hell of a man."

"A hell of a man? Just because he had the most arrest records in his career does not make him a hell of a man. You weren't there. You didn't live with it. Or with him." Flack didn't attempt to hide the vehemence in his voice.

"Don't do this to yourself, Flack. Screw yourself up over some girl that you just want to lay."

"Sir, if you don't mind, I'd rather now discuss my personal life with you. Its just that. Personal. What goes on between me and her is no one's business but our's."

"So you're admitting you and this girl are..."

Flack's cell phone ringing interrupted the tension. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the call display. DET. C. DEVINE it read. It just couldn't be good news. "I have to take this." he said and stood up.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Flack." Gerrard called after him.

Flack slammed the door behind him. "What's wrong, Carmen?" he asked after he pressed talk.

"You downstairs?" she asked.

"I am. Why?"

"You might want to come up here. Sam just got hauled in with Mac and Sinclair. Danny says Lindsay filed a complaint against her."

Flack sighed heavily and headed for the elevator. "I'm on my way." he said.

* * *

"Hell of a way for us to meet, Detective Ross." Sinclair said as he leaned against the front of Mac's desk, arms over his chest, stern look on his face as he regarded the pretty, young detective in the chair before him.

"I wasn't expecting to be attacked on the street and nearly abducted by my ex boyfriend, sir." Samantha told him.

"You do realize that there's going to be some serious ramifications because of this?"

Sam didn't blink. "Good. He deserves it."

"I meant for you and Detective Flack. Zack Turner has filed a complaint with the NYPD concerning Detective Flack's handling of the situation on the street yesterday."

Mac stood behind Samantha's chair, a hand on the back of it. "Samantha was slapped and grabbed around the arm and throat." he informed the Chief. "Look at her injuries. I even had Doctor Hawkes exam her and photograph them for when I personally file charges of assaulting an officer. Detective Flack was merely coming to her defence."

"Mac." Sinclair sighed. "Flack went and broke into the man's hotel roo after hours and put him in the hospital overnight. We're lucky he didn't put the guy in the morgue."

"Should have." Samantha mumbled.

Sinclair gave her an icy stare. "Did you ask Detective Flack to go there last night? Ask him to seek out a little revenge?"

"He went on his own." Samantha replied. "I didn't know about it until later on in the evening." You walked right into that one you stupid bitch, she thought.

"You spoke to Detective Flack after the incident?" Sinclair's eyes narrowed. "He just went there on his own free will. A friend helping a friend. And then called you to tell you about it?"

"He just called me to see how I was." Sam explained.

"And do you think it was all right that he went and defended your honor to that extent?"

Mac straightened up defensively. "Chief Sinclair, I don't like your tone." he said. "Either speak to her with respect or not at all."

"So you're just friends." Sinclair nodded at the idea. "Friends do that for each other."

"Really good friends do." Sam reasoned.

"Let's cut the crap, Detective Ross." Sinclair said sternly. "I want to know the real deal with you and Flack."

Sam remained adamant. And loyal. "He's my friend. That's it."

"Work place romances can be messy." Sinclair said.

Mac shook his head and chuckled. "Did you not hear her? She just said..."

"I know what line of bullshit she's handing me, Mac. I'd hate for anything to ruin the integrity of the number two lab in the country."

Mac fumed. "All this coming from a man that has not only a wife and kids but two girlfriends who work with the department? Now whose handing out the bull shit."

Sinclair stared daggers at both of them and turned and grabbed a file off of Mac's desk. "Detective Ross. I read your career jacket from Arizona. Very, very impressive. Exemplary in fact. Except for the issues with your anger management and anxiety related disorders. You're on both lorezapam and Zoloft?"

"That's unfair." Mac argued. "That has nothing to do with this. She takes medication and it doesn't effect her work."

"Its warranted." Sinclair fought back. "Handle this Mac before its too late. Now. On to matter number two. A harassment complaint filed against you by Detective Monroe. This is a zero tolerance work place. I assume you have a reasonable explanation."

"Yes, sir." Sam held her ground. "She's a constant source dissention and turmoil in the lab and out in the field. She spreads rumours about people, doesn't carry her weight on cases and is just down right a miserable... pardon my language, sir... a down right miserable bitch."

"And you've learned all of this in just one week?" Sinclair asked.

"A week? I learned all of that in one day." Sam replied.

Sinclair's nostrils flared. "Mandatory counselling. Minimum eight weeks. Minimum. If they suggest you need more, you go."

"You can't come in here and bully my detectives!" Mac yelled.

"You've got an attitude problem, Detective." Sinclair said to Sam.

"Sir, ninety five percent of us in here have attitude problems!" she fought back.

"Mac." Sinclair pointed the file at the head of the lab. "You take care of this and make sure she goes! Understand me?"

"I know just the person who can handle this." Mac assured him.

"Let's hope you and I don't cross paths like this again." Sinclair said to Samantha as he stormed out of the office.

"I'm not crazy, Mac." Samantha said quietly.

"No." he agreed "Your not. But he is."

She managed a smile.

"I need you in ballistics today. Its your field. I need you to work on some things until a call comes through."

She nodded and stood up.

"And Samantha..."

She paused at the door.

"We'll talk about you and Flack later. All three of us."

She nodded and left the room.

* * *

"Counselling." Flack repeated. "Why?"

"Apparently, Sinclair thinks I'm crazy." Sam said.

They were in the quiet back hall way at the rear of the trace lab. Choice place for those who either wanted to make out or scrap it out. Talking in hushed voices, standing a mere foot from each other.

"You're not crazy." Flack said. "You've got issues."

"That's a polite way of calling someone crazy." she told him.

He sighed. "So you've got problems.Big fucking deal. At least you're not a coke or meth head or an alcoholic like sixty five percent of this department."

"All I know is that I have to go for eight weeks. Maybe more. And maybe it will help in some respects. But it doesn't take away from the fact that that fucking bitch Monroe started it and she's walking around scott fucking free."

"Calm down." Flack said. "No need to go all potty mouth on me here."

"She started it with the Danny and me shit. I wasn't going to let her get away with it."

"So we admit she's a bitch and we move on."

"A bitch! Don, she goes far beyond being a bitch. She gets off on other peoples misery. She's only happy when everyone else is unhappy."

"Then just stay away from her and go about your business.Ignore her. She's not worth it."

"And now that Sinclair put it in Mac's head that you and I are together, we have to go and have 'the talk' with Mac. We're thirty years old for Christ sakes! You'd think it was the end of the world or something."

"He gives everyone who hooks up at work 'the talk'. All he's going to say is that we have to keep things professionally. Not to run things with our hearts. That's all he's going to say. And if it makes you feel any better, I already got the talk by Gerrard."

She frowned. "When?"

"Less than an hour ago he pulls me into the office because your prick of an ex decided to file a complaint against me for busting up his face."

"I'm sorry." she said, shaking her head.

"For what? I went there on my free will and took care of it the way I felt it needed to be taken care of."

"How bad was he hurt?" she asked.

"Busted nose, couple black eyes. Probably a cracked jaw. Concussion."

"So you went Randy Couture on him." she concluded.

"I prefer Chuck Lidell." he said light heartedly. "Must be a Brooklyn girl thing. Liking Randy Couture. Girl that used to work here long time ago was from Brooklyn and liked him too."

"Well she obviously had good taste." Sam said.

"Look, I wouldn't worry about people knowing about us. It's gonna get out soon now that Gerrard and Sinclair figured it out. And if Lindsay catches word it'll be all over this place like the fucking plague."

"Now whose the potty mouth." she teased.

He smiled. He wanted to kiss her so bad. She was so beautiful standing there looking up at him with those golden eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone standing, observing from the end of the hall.

Lindsay.

"She's like a goddamn super spy." Sam complained. "I bet she has super hearing powers and can make out every word we're saying."

"Let's not talk about spies. I've had enough of them."

"I heard you got to play James Bond for a while."

"You hear a lot."

"I have excellent sources. I also heard you look pretty damn fine in a tux."

"You got a bit of a James Bond fetish or something?"

"Cop fetish, remember? But I wouldn't mind seeing you in the tux."

"One time deal."

"I could make it worth your while." she said.

"No doubt. Why don't we tackle the handcuff fetish and gradually go on to the James Bond thing?"

She grinned.

"You're a handcuff girl, huh? Always the ones you least expect."

"I'm a study in contradiction." she informed him.

"Yes." he agreed, a broad smile on his face. "You definitely are."

* * *

Carmen was looking for Sam. She needed help in the ballistics lab and Mac had told her Sam was the expert and assigned there for the afternoon. Only Sam was nowhere around.

She spied Lindsay standing at the end of the back hall way. Arms over her chest, watching something or someone intently. When she stalked over to the girl and was going to ream her out for being such a lazy, nosey bitch, she saw just what had captured the girl's attention.

"Like to spy on people, don't you." Carmen commented.

Lindsay nearly jumped out of her skin.

"That looks like a private conversation. Private means without you, Monroe."

"See what I mean about Sam and Flack? The way they're standing so close together and smiling at one another. There's definitely something going on there."

"To me it looks like they're talking." Carmen said. "And you need to stop watching them and get to work."

"I don't get it. What does he see in her?"

"Other than the fact that she's insanely beautiful and crazy intelligent and funny as hell and not some immature little girl that likes to spy on people and spread rumors?" Carmen asked.

"I just don't get it." Lindsay said, shaking her head.

"Grow up, Monroe." Carmen snapped. "This isn't high school. Quit the jealous annoying bitch act and start behaving your age."

"Detective Monroe!" Mac bellowed from his office door at the end of the main hallway. "I asked you to go down to autopsy half an hour ago. Sid is waiting!"

Lindsay sighed heavily and stalked off.

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." Carmen called after her.

* * *

Sam had heard Mac yelling at Lindsay and turned to look down the hall. Carmen was standing there now. Smiling and tapping her finger on her watch and mouthing 'Ballistics! Help!'.

"I have to go." Sam told Flack. "I get to go and shoot things now."

"A ballistics expert, huh? Just how expert?"

"I can shoot the head off a pin from a hundred and fifty yards out and disassemble and reassemble over three dozen fire arms in less than a minute a piece. And don't even make me go on about ammunition and explosives."

"I love it when you talk dirty." he teased. "For your birthday, I'll buy you a years subscription to Guns and Ammo."

She grinned. "You're a man after my own heart, Detective Flack." she said.

"If I'm not busy and you're not busy you wanna grab lunch?"

"As long as I don't have to sit on a park bench and eat with my hands." she replied.

"Real food." he assured her. "I kinda lost my way with the vendors."

"I heard about that too." she said.

"You really do hear everything."

"Never underestimate the powers of a woman. You'll call me either way?"

"I'll call you." he promised.

She smiled and gave a small wave and headed down the hall. "Quit staring at my ass, Flack!" she called without looking back.

"I wasn't staring at it. I was thinking about what I wanted to do to it." he corrected her.

She turned and gave him a huge grin and a wink and then continued on her way.

* * *

Carmen and Sam were heading to the ballistics lab, discussing her run in with Sinclair and her mandatory counselling when a familiar face at the reception desk stopped them in their tracks.

"That's the guy from the subway!" Sam exclaimed. "That Speed guy! Holy shit he's stalking you!"

"You are so mental." Carmen informed her.

Speed saw the two girls coming and couldn't believe his eyes at the sight of the badges and guns they wore. Last thing he expected from the two of them. The little brunette offered a smile and a warm hello, but the other one ignored him.

"Hey, Red!" he called.

She stopped and turned. "Excuse me?"

"Long time no see. See your as friendly as you were this morning."

"She's the friendly one." Carmen gestured to Sam as they both walked over to him. "I'm the mean one."

Speed nodded. "You two detectives?"

"Nothing gets passed you." Carmen said.

"CSIs." Sam said. "You?"

"In the PI business. Here to see a friend."

"So you're not stalking me after all." Carmen said.

"I ain't the stalking kind, Red. You two know a Danny Messer?"

"How do you know him?" Sam inquired.

"When I was a CSI myself down in Miami, we met at a conference in Seattle. I'm originally from here and we hit it off."

"Why'd you leave Miami?" Sam asked.

"Personal reasons."

"I hear ya." Sam said with a nod. "I just came here for the same reason. So you and Danny are friends?"

"We're pretty tight."

"The good ones are always gay." Carmen sighed.

Sam bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I have some work to do. I'll leave you two alone to scrap this out. Nice to meet you, Speed."

"You too..."

"Samantha." she told him.

"How about I call you mouse?"

"How about I say that's fine?" she countered. "Take care."

"You, too, mouse. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe." she singsonged as she headed off.

"Whose the guy with Carmen?" Hawkes asked Sam as they passed eachother in the hall.

"Just some guy from the subway that's stalking her." Sam replied.

Hawkes frowned. "Think we should call security or something?"

"I think Carmen can handle it." Sam replied. "I need some assistance in ballistics. You busy?"

"Nope." Hawkes said.

She grabbed him by the arm. "You are now." she said.

"She always so friendly?" Speed asked Carmen.

"When she's not kicking someones ass." Carmen replied.

"So what's your deal, Red? Why you so unfriendly?"

Normally she would have punched out any guy that called her any form of a nickname. But this guy was different.

"Who says I'm unfriendly?" she countered.

"Its an impressive you give." Speed said.

"Has it ever occurred to you I just may not like you?" she asked.

"Then why are you standing here talking to me?" he retorted.

She blushed slightly.

"Hey, Speed!" Danny called from behind her. "What took you so long? You get lost?"

"Just making some new friends." Speed said.

"You wish." Carmen snorted and left to chase down Sam and Hawkes.

Speed wathed her go. "What's your friend's name?" he asked Danny.

"Carmen. Why?"

"No reason." he said. "No reason at all."

**Okay, I resurrected my darling, Speed. I had to do it for Carmen! He will become an integral part of her story line! **

**Aphina:** It was hot and intimate at the same time. I hope it was clear how much these two care for one another. And I hope you enjoy my Carmen and Speed love fest!

**Madison Bellows**: lol! such a struggle writing the smut! But now that I'm comfy there's more to come. The e-mails were an after thought. My brother in law's idea actually.

**notreadytomakenice:** glad you enjoyed!

**Bluehaven4220: **LOL! it was my first time writing smut! More to come! and the e-mail thing will continue in other chaps. It'll be Sam and Flack's little thing


	19. Chapter 19

**Once again, I only own what you don't know**

**Hey, did you hear the one about... **

**Rumor #1**

"Do you have the time

to listen to me whine?

about nothing and everything all at once?

I am one of those

melodramatic fools

neurotic to the bone

no doubt about it."

-Basket Case, Green Day

* * *

"I heard that they're already sleeping together! And she's only been here a week!"

"I heard that they had something going when she lived in New York before, had this nasty break up and that's why she went to Arizona. I guess they started something up long distance and that's why she came back."

"So that's why the ex boyfriend showed up here! 'Cause she was cheating on him!"

"I can't believe she's sleeping with him all ready!"

"Do you really blame her? I'd sleep with him if he so as much looked at me the right way!"

"Ladies," Stella sighed heavily as she stepped out of one of the stalls in the ladies staff restroom. Startling the two gossiping lab techs. "Don't you two have some work you could be doing?"

"We were just talking about..." the little Asian tech tried to explain.

"Oh I heard what you were talking about." Stella assured them. "And where ever you're getting this information from, ignore it."

"Its pretty reliable." this from the tall lenky blond.

Stell moved to the sinks to wash her hands. "Unless you hear it directly from either party your referring to, leave it alone. And really, if it is true, it's none of your business."

"Its just a little harmless gossip." the blond argued.

"There's never anything harmless about gossip." Stella informed them. "Now please, if you don't mind, we're a busy lab and if you don't have anything to do, I can find you something. In fact, the lunch room needs a nice thorough cleaning."

"Actually," the Asian girl said. "I do have samples that I can run."

"And I have some paper work to finish." added the blond.

Stella smirked as they hurried from the room. "That's what I thought!" she called after them.

Mac was at his desk, phone pressed to his ear when he spied Stella lingering in the doorway. He smiled warmly at her and waved her into the office.

"I know that this is short notice," Mac was saying into the phone. "but this is a serious situation right from Sinclair and you were the first person that popped into my head... it doesn't matter how fast you can see her, I just wanted you to set up an appointment and get the ball rolling... we're talking anger management and some personal and social issues... I can send you a copy of her employee file and the complaints... you're the perfect person for this... you'll really like her. She's a great kid. Just a little troubled and misunderstood... I appreciate it. Talk soon... bye."

Stella arched an eyebrow as he hung up.

"My niece, Gus." Mac explained. "You remember her."

"NYPD staff psychologist. Your niece on Claire's side. We don't get to see her very much."

"She's a very busy lady. Someone always needs help in this job."

"True enough. So who in the lab is she going to help?"

"Sinclair was just here." Mac held up a piece of paper. "Lindsay went straight to him and filed a complaint against Samantha over the little incident the two of them had in the locker room a couple days back."

"She is an immature, snivelling little brat." Stella declared. "Lindsay, I mean."

"Did you know about it?" Mac asked.

"I know that Samantha took exception to some things that Lindsay was saying and called her on them. I talked to Sam at the crime scene yesterday and let her know that she could come to either you or I with any problem and that was that. She said okay and that was that. She went about her business. She just has a tendency to use her heart and not her head, Mac. And this thing with her ex boyfriend..."

"Is the main issue." Mac said. "Seems that Flack decided to hand out some justice of his own. He went and broke into this guy's hotel room and put him in the hospital over night. And now he has a complaint lodged against him for his trouble."

"Nice to see there's some guys still willing to defend a woman's honour."

"Stella..."

"Okay, so it wasn't the smartest move on Flack's part. But in his defense, he was off duty and what he does off duty is his business. Mac, if he and Danny hadn't have come along when they did, the outcome would have been a lot different. We'd be looking at a missing person's case or even worse, a homicide. I guess Flack just couldn't let it go that easy."

"Which leads nicely into the next issue. Samantha and Flack."

Stella sighed.

"You know about that, too?"

"I more or less figured it out. Oh come on, Mac. They're both young, attractive single people. It shouldn't surprise you that something like this happened. I'm more surprised that she's not the blond, ditzy type he's usually with. I mean, she actually has a brain!"

"Stella..."

"Observation. Strictly an observation. We can't pull the two of them in here and tell them that can't date each other, Mac. I mean, come on, that would be just a little hypocritical of you considering..."

"All I want is for them to keep focused on their job and not let their hearts control what they do."

"They're both mature, professional adults, Mac." Stella pointed out. "We won't have another repeat of the Danny and Lindsay disaster."

He sighed. "I hope not."

"So where does Gus fit in?"

"Sinclair ordered Samantha to counselling."

"For what?"

"Anger management, anxiety disorders, social problems..."

"What?" Stella laughed. "There is nothing wrong with that girl's social skills. She is the most down to earth, unassuming person I've ever met. That's refreshing. She's so grown up and Brooklyn yet so little girl at the same time. And she's an amazing cop, Mac. This is the first time with a new CSI that I haven't had to hold their hand and coddle them. She is a major asset to us."

"And I'd like to keep her that way." Mac said. "Which is why I called Gus. She's agreed to meet with Samantha and I think she is the ideal one that Sam will feel comfortable with."

"Whatever helps, Mac. And while you're giving Sam and Flack your little keep things professional talk, maybe you might want to consider passing word around to the lab techs that company time is for working, not gossiping in the john."

"I know." he sighed. "I've heard a few good rumour myself and its only noon hour. I'll pass something along letting everyone know that stuff like that will not be tolerated."

"Good." Stella stood up. "But before you do that, could you do me a personal favor?"

"What's that?"

"Buy me some lunch. I'm starving."

* * *

Sam's stomach growled noisily and she glanced up at the clock above the door in the ballistics lab. It was only ten minutes past twelve. She'd made lunch plans for one. Carmen had been called out to help Danny down in the lay out room, leaving her and Hawkes and a table full of ammo and handguns. In their lab coats and yellow lens protective goggles.

"So how does someone go from being an ME to being a CSI?" Sam asked curiouslly, as she was busy disassemlbing a rusted out Colt 45 hand gun.

Hawkes was amazed at how fast she could work. "I just wanted to be out in the action." he replied. "See sunlight for a change. Feel like I was part of the bigger picture. Get some excitement."

"Well, one thing about this job is that it's never dull." Sam said, searching the table for use able parts. "Did you ever work in a hospital or anything like that?" she asked.

"After I did my various rotations, I worked in the OR at Sacred Heart for a couple of years. One bad experience made me realize I didn't want to have someones life in my hands ever again. So I became an ME. To help the dead get that final piece of justice and give their families some sense of closure. Am I making any sense?"

"Perfect sense." She began to rebuild the handgun, peice by painstaking piece, attempting to get it back into working condition.

"How did someone like you become an expert in ballistics?" Hawkes asked.

She smiled. "I don't look like the Soldier of Fortune type?"

"Not exactly. You look like the teaching a group of third graders or volunteering at Sunday school type. Holding a spot on the PTA."

Sam laughed. "A soccer mom? Sheldon Hawkes you poor delusional man!"

"Or the fine dining, dressed up, theatre type."

"Actually, surprisingly, I do own a couple dresses and I do like the theatre."

"I have two tickets to see The King and I next Saturday. If you'd like to accompany me, we could go somewhere for a nice quiet dinner, talk outside of work for a change, have a few drinks."

Sam shifted on her stool uncomfortably. "As wonderful as that sounds, Sheldon, I don't think that's a great idea. Its not that I don't like you. You're a very handsome, charming, smart man, it's just that I'm kinda seeing someone and I don't think it would be appropriate or fair to him, if I went out with you."

"It would be strictly as a friend." he assured her. "Two friends going out to have a nice time together. I don' t think Flack would be too offended by that."

She cleared her throat. "How did you know that that's who it was?"

"A lot or rumors flying around here today." he replied.

"That seems to be a problem around here." she sighed.

"Just as a friend, Samantha." he promised. "That's all. Give you a chance to enjoy yourself after everything you've been through. Give you a chance to relax . And its strictly honorable."

She smiled. "In that case, a night out at the theatre sounds really nice. I haven't been in a long, long time. When I was with Zack he..." she stopped, appalled with herself for even uttering that name. "I'd like to go." she said instead.

"Great. I'll pick you up around six at your place?" Hawkes offered.

"Sounds like a plan." she agreed.

"Now back to my original question." Hawkes said. "You and ballistics."

"Ballistics and I go way back. Its been a good friend to me. My dad, stepfather, actually, he is an avid gun collector and he used to take Adam and I out back on his property to shoot cans and stuff. I know, sounds red neck. Anyway, Adam was never the weapons kind of guy. He's more the passive type. You know, computers, sci-fi, role playing. That kind of stuff."

"And you?"

"I was more than football and hockey with the guys and paintball type." she revealed. "Big Tom boy. My mom was getting a little worried there when I started taking my dad's guns apart over and over again, studying them and what not. I think she thought I was planning on going on a shooting spree or something. "

"So you went to university, got a masters and a b.a. and joined the Phoenix PD."

Sam nodded. "Did my year as a uniform and then asked fora job in ESU. Nothing available so I joined K-9 instead. Did two years there. Loved it. Those dogs area smarter than most humans And then got the job I wanted and trained as a sharp shooter and kept up with my interest ballistics. Moved over to the crime lab, and now..." she examined the newly built handgun "here I am."

"You did all of that and barely looked at it." Hawkes said in awe.

"All in a day's work." she declared and picked up a clip of ammunition and snapped it into place.

"You actually think it'll fire?" he looked skeptical.

"Only one way to find out." she said and pulled back on the chamber to load it. She held the gun out to Hawkes. "You do the honors."

He took the gun from her and moved to the firing tank. They slipped on their protective ear coverings and Hawkes aimed into the water and fired successfully.

He retrieved the bullet and gave her a huge grin.

"I am the ballistics bitch." she declared.

* * *

At five to one she was heading for the elevators to meet Flack downstairs. Only to be surprised by the sight of her brother in his usual drunken I just rolled off the couch frat boy attire, stepping off the elevator as she attempted to get on.

"Adam," she said when he grabbed her arm to prevent her from boarding and essentially missing the lift. "I have plans. I can't stick around. And what are you doing here anyway? Hang out here on your days off for shits and giggles?"

"I just came from the apartment." he informed her.

"Good for you. And?"

"You could have at least hidden it!"

"Hid what?"

"The fact that you were having sex all over my apartment! My sister! Having sex in my apartment!"

"Adam... look..."

"I wouldn't have even known if you hadn't left the condom package on the floor in the living room!"

Sam blushed slightly. "Well at least I'm having safe sex." she reasoned.

Adam glared at her, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? After everything that happened

yesterday! You go and have sex with some guy you barely know?"

"Calm down, Adam. Don and I didn't actually have sex."

"Oh my God! So it is Flack!"

Sam tried to remain calm. And to not burst out laughing at her brother's disgusted, furious facial expression. "Look, what I do or who I do is none of your business. All right? We've already had this conversation."

"But Flack?! Of all people! Someone I work with and have to see every day! And why can't you just stay away from the men for a while? Quit being your own worst enemy!"

"Adam!" Sam snapped. "You're entering my personal space again! You're my brother, not my father! Do I complain when you and Kendall are having sex in the next room? No! At least I did it when you weren't around! And for the record, we didn't have sex. Other things, okay..."

"That's worse!" Adam shrieked. "I don't want to hear about you doin' things like that to Flack!"

"Fuck Adam! Grow up! Deal with it! At least I cleaned up the aftermath."

Adam clasped his hands over his ears. "Don't wanna hear this... don't wanna hear this... don't wanna hear this..."

"Get a grip! And do me a favor and go and by some more ice cream."

"You're disturbed! You really are! Using ice cream for that is sacrilegious!"

"At least I'm inventive. And quit the over protective father crap! I have to go. I have a lunch date and.."

"The Sarge is coming to New York!" Adam nearly wailed.

Sam stared at him in open mouth shock. "What? Why? When?"

"Mom called an hour ago and said he's got a two o'clock flight into JFK. And that he's staying with us!"

"What? No! He's not! Where the hell is he going to sleep?"

"Sleeping bag. On the floor. The same floor you had sex on!"

"He needs to rent a goddamn hotel room! He's got the money!"

Adam was near frantic tears. "Don't shoot the messenger!" he pleaded.

"And you call me mental? He's fucked! Too many grenades went off too close to that man's head! Or he's got some shrapnel lodged in his brain! I am so finding another place to stay while he's here!"

"Don't abandon me!" Adam wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg for mercy. "Don't leave me alone with him! Please Sam!!"

"I'll sleep in Grand Central Station if I have to. I stopped living with my parents a long time ago and I'm not getting back on that bus ride to hell." she turned for the elevator and pressed the down button.

"Sam!" Adam pleaded. "Don't do this to me! If you love me, don't do it!"

"I am not staying in a one bedroom apartment with my brother and my father. Its not going to happen. Sorry. I have to go, Adam."

"Sam, please don't do this to me!"

"I'm late! Someone is waiting for me."

"Is it Flack?"

"Let it go, Adam." she said and stepped onto the elevator.

* * *

Flack checked his watch. 1:07. He tried to concentrate on the stack of reports in front of him. A rare slow day in New York City meant a day of catching up on things that routinely fell by the wayside. Paperwork was not his strong suit. Nor was the patience one needed to deal with it effectively.

He was slightly startled when someone slammed their hands down on his desk. He looked up into furious dark eyes.

"Yes?" he asked, and yanked his file out from under one of the hands.

"I gotta bone to pick with you, Flack." Angell said.

"Well get in line. And fair warning, it's a long wait."

"You said that the reason why you couldn't get involved with me was because you didn't agree with work place relationships. That it blurs the lines or some other bullshit."

Flack nodded and went back to his work. "That's what I said." he agreed.

"So then what the hell is this crap about you dating the new CSI?"

"None of your business." he calmly replied.

"You lied to me you sonofabitch! If you weren't interested, that's all you had to say. I'm a big girl, Flack. I can take rejection. And its not like you're the only man out there. Or the best either."

"Look, at that time, I didn't date people from work." he said.

"What's changed in four months?" Angell scoffed.

"Sam wasn't here for months ago." he replied. "And if she had have been, it would have been her I took out that night."

"But you work with her just like you work with me!"

"Sam's different." he reasoned.

''How? She's a co-worker, is she not?"

"For one thing," he tossed his pen aside and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "we don't have desks across from each other."

"Lame fucking reason, Flack."

"What do you want me to say? That the way I feel about her I've never felt for any one before in my entire life? That she just looks at me or says my name and I nearly go fucking crazy? Or that she's beautiful and smart and insanely funny and makes me feel comfortable being myself. That she doesn't give a shit about my arrest record or the big busts I've made or who my father is. Or how about I tell you that she makes me feel happy and accepted and loved?"

Angell stared at him.

"Or how about I tell you that she's standing right behind you and you're holding me up?"

Angell turned around to find the little CSI standing there. "Hey." she said simply.

"Hey." Sam said with a small smile.

"You are a fucking ass, Flack." Angell informed him and walked away.

"What was that about?" Sam asked, watching the detective go.

"Nothing important." Flack replied and stood up and grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair.

"Did you and her ever..."

"It never got of the ground. And that's what she's pissed about."

"Me?"

He nodded and slipped into his jacket.

"I wasn't the reason it didn't get off the ground was I?"

"No. She wanted something to happen and I didn't because I didn't want to get involved with anyone from work." he told her. "And she heard a rumor about me and you and called me on it."

"This rumor is spreading like wild fire. The whole lab knows."

"Does that bother you?" he asked.

"No. I don't care if people know. I just would have liked to tell certain people myself."

"Yeah, well people around here can't keep their mouths shut. Trust me. Ignore it. I do."

They headed for the front doors, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back.

"Mind you," Flack said "you wanna hear the good one I have about Danny and Lindsay and a pool table? I've been holding it in for months."

"A pool table?" Sam frowned. "How in the hell does that work?"

"It involves a lot of alcohol and some creativity. Maybe we should try it sometime."

"All that felt? No way. That can't be comfortable on your ass."

"I never realized your ass was so sensitive." he teased.

"That's because you haven't tapped it yet." she shot back.

He grinned and shook his head. "Good things come to those who wait." he promised.

* * *

They had a quiet, leisurely lunch at a small diner three blocks from the crime lab. Talked about everything under the sun and stayed away from any work related topics. It felt good to sit there and laugh and smile at each other and exchange flirtatious looks or comments like any other normal couple. Only the fact they both wore badges and he had a holster and gun under his jacket attested to the fact that they were anything but normal.

The temperature was nearly a hundred when they walked back to the crime lab. Taking their time. She sipped a strawberry smoothie and talked about how hot it was in Arizona and how New York summers were Arizona cold season. She was a little surprised when he took her hand as they walked. But she just smiled at him in that innocent little girl way had about her from time to time and held his hand in return.

"What?" he asked when he saw her look down at their joined hands.

"Nothing. I was just thinking how boyfriend and girlfriend this must look."

"Isn't that what you are? If I'm introducing you to someone I'm gonna say girlfriend. You're not gonna say boyfriend?"

"Is that what you are? My boyfriend?"

Flack stopped walking and faced her. "You don't like to make things easy for me, do you."

She shook her head and sipped her smoothie.

He grinned.

"You so wanna kiss me right now don't you, Don."

"You have no idea." he said.

"Then why don't you? 'Cause I really want you to kiss me right now."

He took her face in his hands and pulled her gently towards him and kissed her. Long and soft.

"Mmmm..." she said afterwards and reached up to wipe smoothie off his lips.

"I was thinking that instead of going out tomorrow, maybe we can just order in, have some wine. At my place. Where no one is going to interrupt us."

"You're hoping for a repeat of last night?" the fingers of one hand travelled discreetly to his belt buckle.

"You do stuff like that, I'm going to have to take you in an alley way somewhere."

"How romantic..." she tugged playfully at the waist of his pants. "And that sounds like a nice way to spend a Friday night. But I'll only sleep over on one condition."

"What's that?"

"What are you going to make me for breakfast in the morning?"

"You know, that's what I love best about you. You're not afraid to eat."

"I actually have meat on my ass and hips."

"A very nice ass and hips I may add. And as for breakfast, you'll have to be surprised."

"Hmmm... that gives me some incentive to stay over."

"Trust me, I'll give you a hell of a lot of incentive by the time I'm through with you."

She grinned broadly. "You have a lot of expectations to live up to, Detective Flack. Think you can do it?"

"Absolutely." he replied confidently and leaned in to press a kiss to her ear before taking her hand again.

"I have a small problem." she said.

"Uh-oh."

"Nothing major. I'm running away from home."

"What?"

"My dad is headed to New York to check on me and apparently, he's camping out on my living room floor."

"Okay. And..."

"There is no way I can put up with him and Adam. I'll go nuts. And I know this is still new between me and you and you might be uncomfortable with the idea and you have every right to say no..."

"I should say no for the way you snore."

"I do not snore!" she laughed.

"You do. And you talk something fierce. Shouldn't surprise me. You never shut up when you're awake."

"Don, admit it. If something was to happen to me and you never heard my voice again, you'd miss it."

"You know what? I would. But we're not going to talk about stuff like that. You gonna bring those pyjamas you wore last night?"

"I have better ones. Little lace boyshorts and camis."

He cleared his throat. "Maybe I should sleep on the couch." he suggested. "'Cause you get me all worked up and I ain't gonna be able to stop."

"That's a good thing." she said and smiled devilishly. "So you don't mind? If I stay with you?"

"Why would I mind?" he asked and helped himself to some of her smoothie. "You'll be the first woman I've had stay for more than one night."

"I'm flattered." she said.

"You should be." he teased and she slapped his stomach. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her close for another kiss.

"You are going to get us fired." she informed him.

"We're a block away from the lab. Whose gonna see?"

"Well in that case." she said and grabbed him by his tie and planted a searing kiss on him.

"You're gonna kill me woman." he said, staring into her eyes with pure unadulterated lust.

"What a way to go." she said.

* * *

Carmen walked into the bull pen. Anxious to get onto one of the computers and start her reports early. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Tim Speedle in the room. Sitting at one of the tables, a clipboard in front of him, writing feverishly on it.

"Are you still here?" she asked.

"Hello to you too." he replied without looking up.

"What are you doing in here anyway? This is employees only."

"Sorry to disappoint ya, Red..." he stood long enough for her to get a look at the badge, holster and gun and a temporary employee i.d. "I am an employee."

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I work here." he clarified.

"Since when?"

Speed checked his watch. "About an hour and a half ago."

"You said you were just here to see Danny Messer."

"No... what I said was I was looking for him. I was looking for him to pass my time before my interview with Mac Taylor."

"And you said you were in PI work." Carmen added.

"I said was." Speed corrected. "Past tense."

She huffed noisily and plopped down at the farthest computer.

"Where's your little friend?" Speed asked.

"Her name is Samantha and she has a boyfriend so back off." Carmen replied.

"All I wanted to know was where she was." Speed said calmly.

"Out with her boyfriend. He's a cop. Homicide detective. He could break you in half with one hand."

"Good for him. What happened to her? Someone beat her up?"

"That is none of your business."

"The boyfriend?"

"Yeah...right. Don't let him hear you say that." Carmen laughed dryly.

"A perp?" Speed tried again.

"I already said it was none of your business." Carmen snapped.

"Take it easy, Red. Just making conversation."

They were silent for some time. Speed's eyes on the forms he was filing out. Carmen's eyes on him.

"So why you leave Miami?" she asked casually.

"Personal." he replied simply.

"A girl?"

He snorted.

"Guy?"

"I took a bullet to the chest and that's all you need to know." he said dismissively.

"Why don't you go back to Miami?" she inquired.

"I can't."

"Because..." she pressed.

"Because I can't." he said and smiled.

Both of their attentions were drawn to yelling from down at the end of the hall.

"What the hell are you doing here, Zack?!" Sam's voice.

"You see what your boyfriend did to me! Do you see it!!"

"He should have killed you!" she bellowed.

"Same way I should have killed you a long time ago, bitch!"

"Gun!" an unfamiliar voice yelled in warning.

Carmen was off her chair in a flash. Speed followed behind her.

Samantha and a badly beaten and bruised and broken Zack were at the reception desk. Startled, concerned and scared lab techs and other employees gathered around. All staring at the gun in Zack's hand.

"What the fuck!" Carmen exclaimed, pushing her way through the crowd.

"You're crazy!" Sam yelled "Put the gun away, Zack! Look at all these cops! You think you can just walk in here and do this?"

"One last chance, Samantha! You come with me or you did right here. What'll it be?"

"Get out of here Zack!" Carmen yelled, stepping beside Samantha.

"Who the hell are you?" the burly state trooper asked.

"You put that gun down and maybe you'll live long enough to find out!" Carmen replied.

"Fuck you bitch!" Zack roared.

Carmen took a step towards him and Speed caught her by the arm and stepped in front of her and Samantha.

"You don't wanna do this." Speed told the irate man. "Put the gun down on the ground and step away from it."

"Stay out of this!"

"Can't do that. You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us." Speed informed him. "And if one guy can do that hell of a mess to you, imagine what a few of us can do."

"I said stay out of this!" Zack yelled.

"Put the gun down, kid. Put it on the ground and kick it towards me and step back."

Zack switched off the safety.

"Are you crazy!!" Samantha yelled.

"Put the gun down." Speed said slowly.

Zack shook his head. "She has to pay! She has too!"

"You're outnumbered here, buddy." Speed continued. "Be smart and put the gun down."

Before Zack knew what hit him, Mac pushed his way through the throng of people, landed a punch to the man's solar plexus and knocked him to his knees. Then stepped behind him and put him in a strong arm hold.

Speed took the opportunity to grab the gun.

Zack roared in pain as Mac increased the pressure on his arm. Carmen grabbed a shocked, trembling Samantha and got her out of the situation.

"You walk into my lab and threaten my employee!" Mac bellowed. "You assault her at a crime scene! You were going to abduct her! You crazy, stupid sonofabitch! I will make sure you get what's coming to you. And its gonna make that beating you were handed last night look tame!" Mac handcuffed him. 'Now get up!" he yelled and yanked Zack roughly to his feet.

"Glock." Speed said as he looked over the weapon. "Nine mill. Fully loaded clip. One in the chamber."

"Welcome aboard Detective Speedle." Mac said and pushed and pulled Zack roughly towards waiting uniformed officers.

"Happy to be here." Speed said. He looked around and caught Carmen's eye. He smiled reassuringly.

She smiled back and mouthed: "Thank you."

**That was for all of my loyal readers (you know who you are! lots of love!) who love Speed soooo much. There's lots more of this lovely man to come!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Warning: little bit of smut at the end**

**Moving on, letting go**

"You may need me there to carry all your weight

but you're no burden I assure

You tide me over with a warmth I'll never forget

But I can only give you love

Fall on me, tell me everything you want me to be

forever with you

forever in me

forever the same

Call on me

I'll be there for you and

you'll be there for me."

-Ever the Same, Rob Thomas

"He's been charged with assault on a police officer, brandishing a fire arm and uttering death."

Mac Taylor said those words as he and Don Flack stood two hours later on the opposite side of the one way glass, watching as Tim Speedle and Stella Bonasera spoke to Zack Tanner in the interrogation room.

Flack sighed heavily and shook his head at the sheer insanity of the entire thing. He had just seen Samantha onto the elevator less than fifteen minutes before all hell broke loose on the thirty fifth floor. Now here he was, suit jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, trying to prevent himself from going in that interrogation room and killing the man with his bare hands.

"What about attempted kidnapping?" Flack asked.

"With no solid proof that was his intention it won't stick." Mac replied.

"Attempted murder for pulling the gun?"

"You know that that's reaching, Flack. He can just say he only wanted to scare her."

"Yeah... the hand marks around her throat say just that." Flack said sarcastically.

"Only way charges of attempted murder or attempted kidnapping will go down is if Stella and this new kid Speed can get anything out of him. And so far, he's not telling them what they don't all ready know."

"Want me to go in and talk to him?"

"Your idea of talking, with your fists, is not what we need right now. And its not what Samantha needs."

Flack nodded in agreement.

"How is she?" Mac asked.

"Carmen and Danny are with her upstairs. She doesn't want to go home. She says she's fine."

"What do you think?" Mac asked.

"What does it matter what I think?" Flack responded.

"Considering she's your girlfriend..."

Flack sighed.

"Or am I just assuming?"

"She is. My girlfriend. We just wanted to tell all of you before the gossip and the rumors started."

Mac nodded. "So what do you think? About how she's doing?"

"I think she's pretty shaken up. And I think she's a stubborn little brat for not going home. Stubborn as hell Mac. And smart mouth to go with it." Flack shook his head

"In other words, she's the female Don Flack." Mac said with a grin.

Flack just smiled.

"You should be upstairs with her."

"I was. She asked me to come down and see how things are going. So this Speed guy pretty much saved her life, huh?"

Mac nodded. "Stepped between her and Carmen and Zack, talked him down. Well, tried to anyway. He wasn't giving up that's for sure."

"And then you came along, went all Marine Mac on the guy?"

If anyone else other than Don Flack had have said something like that, Mac would have been seriously offended and given them a stern dressing down. But when Flack said it it was with good intentioned humor and a little bit of affection. And it even made Mac smile. There was something about Flack that could always make you smile.

"I did what I had to do." Mac said.

"You always do. You're always there when someone needs you, Mac."

Mac knew that that was as close to a thank you that would ever come from someone with as much foolish pride as Don Flack. "I always will be." he said.

Flack nodded. "So this new guy Speedle. What's his story?"

"Originally from New York. Worked as a CSI down in Miami in Horatio Cane's lab. He was seriously injured a few years back on the job and came back home to recuperate. Been working as a PI since. Then his resume showed up on my desk and now here he is."

"What's going on up there, Mac? You guys gettin' serious kick backs from brass or what? How'd you get them to let you hire three new people?"

"I told them if they wanted quicker turn arounds on cases and less employee over time, I'd need at least three more detectives. And I got three damn good ones. And we need people like them. The crime rate in this city is the worst I've ever seen."

"Must be some extra bad crack out on the streets." Flack only half joked. "But you know as well as I do there is no end to massive over time."

Mac chuckled. "I just tell them what they want to hear and then go and do what I want. Can you imagine if Sinclair ran the lab? He doesn't know his ass from his elbow. And Gerrard? We won't even get into what's wrong with him."

"I'm on Gerrard's shit list right now." Flack said. "But I seem to have a permanent place there lately."

"Wait until word gets back about this. He's gonna be down here like flies on shit." Mac sighed heavily at the thought.

"Its what happens when you blow up the crime lab, Mac."

"You ever hear anything more on the Wilder gang?" Mac asked

"Just a lot of talk about the family members left behind comin' here to set up shop again. Nothing firm. And that is not a day I want to re-live any time soon. So why is our boy here holdin' out? We have him on assault and weapons offenses. Might as well cop to the rest."

"I think he has some underlying sociopath issues." Mac said.

Flack laughed. "Ya think? That guy is nuts. He does what he did, and I'm not just talking about yesterday and today, but in the past, yet I'm the one who catches shit? Makes no sense, Mac."

"This job rarely does. He'll be sent back to Phoenix once he's arraigned."

"When's that suppose to happen?" Flack asked, not sure if he liked that idea or not. Something about Zack being out of NYPD jurisdiction didn't sit well with him.

"D.A. is looking at tomorrow morning. He'll be in custody until then."

"Not gonna keep him in New York? Have him face the charges here?"

"Phoenix PD is raising hell over this. NYPD doesn't want any problems so they'll send him back. If this goes to trial, chances are Sam will have to go there to testify. Maybe even you and Carmen and Speedle."

"Even if I didn't have to go, I wouldn't make her go through that alone." Flack said, in a soft, tender voice that Mac never knew the young man possessed.

He could tell just by looking at Flack that the detective was in way over his head. And that Flack didn't mind one bit.

* * *

Speed tapped his pen noisily on the pad of paper in front of him and stared across the table at Zack Turner handcuffed to the chair.

"Givin' us the silent treatment, huh?" Speed asked. "Doesn't matter. We've got you on the assault from yesterday, brandishing a fire arm and uttering threats. You're looking at at least ten years just on that."

"Why don't you just come clean, Zack?" Stella suggested. "About all the plans you had."

"Right now," Speed continued. "I've got CSIs and detectives searching your hotel room, and your rental and personal vehicle. Looking for any sign that you were planning on abducting and murdering your ex girlfriend. I also have people in Arizona goin' through your place there as we speak. We are going to find the proof we need. And then you are going to be going away for a hell of a lot longer."

Zack remained silent.

"Tell us." Stella pressed. "Make this all a little easier on yourself."

Speed tossed his pen onto the table top with a clatter. "Okay... wanna play games? We can sit here all day. You can cop to it all in ten minutes, two hours, ten hours, doesn't matter to me. But let me tell you what I know about you. Let's talk about you letting women you stop for traffic violations off with no more than a warning if they gave you sexual favors. Wanna talk about that?"

Anger flashed in Zack's eyes.

"Its the reason Samantha is here, right? Why she came back to New York? Dumped your pathetic ass when she found out, decided to start a new life for herself. That's some sick shit, Zack. And you wonder why she's pissed." Speed snorted in disgust. "And don't try playing the theft card with me. It was a joint account. She had every legal right in both the state of Arizona and New York to take that money. Personally, I would have kicked you ass and then cleaned you out. But that's just me."

"Your wedding gets called off the day before," Stella chimed in. "She eventually cleans you out financially and then you come here and you see that she's happy and moved on with her life. That must have really pissed you off."

"But not enough to prevent you from eigthy-sixing a trip to Cabo with one of your girlfriends." Speed said in disgust. "That was your honeymoon trip and instead of missin' out you take another woman. Some girl from the same crime lab Samantha worked at that you'd been doin' for months. A friend of the woman you supposedly loved more than life itself."

"Then you start harrassing her and threatening her and you show up in New York for some payback." Stella said.

"You're real class act, buddy." Speed leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "Got yourself a beautiful woman at a home and you're getting head on the side of the interstate from strangers. Guys, too? Or just the girls?"

"That's sick." Stella declared. "There are no other words for it."

"You waste three years of a woman's life and then wonder why she moves on." Speed shook his head,

"Did you know all of this?" Mac asked a visibly furious Don Flack.

Flack shook his head, palms of his hands on the glass as he listened intently.

"Cat got your tongue?" Speed asked. "How about we get Detective Flack in here and he can kick th crap out of you some more?'

Zack leaned forward quickly, fighting angrily against his bonds. "Shoulda pulled the trigger! Taught that little bitch a lesson!"

"Tell us what you had planned." Stella said. "Were you going to take her back with you to Arizona? Force her to stay with you? Kill her? What?"

"She was going to pay for embarrassing me!"

"Pay?" Speed straightened in his seat. "How?"

"I had something nice in mind for her. Whosoever goin' through my house will find out soon enough. All you two need to know is that it was gonna be slow and painful. And that she deserved it."

"You are a sick, twisted excuse for a human being." Speed said. "You're gonna meet a lot of friends where you're going. Never should have underestimated us New Yorkers, huh?"

Stella slid a pad of paper and a pen towards Zack. "Details." she instructed. "We details."

"I'm not saying anymore without a lawyer."

Speed stood up quickly, chair scraping across the floor. "You're gonna need a real good one." he said.

* * *

"Tim Speedle, Detective Don Flack." Mac did the introductions inside the viewing room following the questioning. "We just call him Flack. Flack, this is Tim Speedle, my new CSI."

"People just call me Speed." he said and shook Flack's hand. "You the boyfriend?"

Flack nodded.

"Hell of a job you did on that guy's face. You seem like a good guy to have your back in a fight or when you're kicking down a door."

"Only as good as the guys' goin' in behind me, having my back." Flack said.

Speed smiled. They were going to get along just fine. "Your girl is a tough little shit. She can handle her own."

"Haven't figured out if that's a good thing or a really bad thing." Flack said.

"You ever figure them out completely. Which is why I'm single and stayin' that way."

"I used to think that same way." Flack told him.

"So what happened?" Speed asked.

"Well, this Brooklyn girl moved back here from Arizona and my life hasn't been the same since."

* * *

Carmen stood outside the break room, peering through the open doorway as Danny sat with Samantha, taking her statement in his calm, reassuring way. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her anger simmer when Lindsay stepped beside her.

"How is she?" Lindsay asked, looking into the room.

"Like you care?" Carmen snorted.

Lindsay looked at the other woman. "What is your problem with me?" she asked.

"What is my problem? Where do I start? Maybe it has to do with the fact that you treat people like shit and walk round here like your so goddamn high and mighty. Maybe it has to do with the fact that you can't keep your fucking mouth shut!"

"What are you talking about? I-"

"The only reason Sam confronted you is because you made up some bullshit story about her and Danny. You start it and then you complain when you can't take the consequences!? And now everyone in here knows about Sam and Flack."

"I never told anyone about those two."

"Oh bullshit! I saw you watching them! You just couldn't wait to run around and tell people all about it! Why can't you just keep your fucking mouth shut!"

"What's the big secret? Why are they hiding it?'

"They weren't hiding it! They just wanted some privacy for a while!"

"I don't even know what he wants to be with someone like that. So screwed up."

"Don't even go there Monroe!" Carmen took a step closer. "You even go there you little bitch and I will..."

"Take it easy, Red." Speed said as he stepped between them. "You'll give yourself a stroke."

Lindsay eyed him head to toe. Impressed. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm the guy you don't wanna talk about behind his back because he won't think twice about callin' ya on it." Speed replied.

Carmen snickered. "Meet Tim Speedle. New CSI. People call him Speed."

"Only people I like." he said. "So you can call me Tim." he said to Lindsay.

"Another new person?" Lindsay huffed.

"Don't worry, I won't steal your thunder, Wyoming." Speed said dryly.

Carmen snickered even louder.

"Montana." Lindsay fumed. "I'm from Montana."

"Whatever." Speed waved it off and turned to Carmen. "How's Mouse doing?"

"She's shook up, but unhurt."

"Good." Speed nodded. "She seems like a tough girl."

"Small but mighty." Carmen declared. "You know, if you weren't here and didn't try and talk him down like you did-"

"Did what was right." Speed told her. "Couldn't let a guy get away with that shit."

"How'd it go with dick head?" Carmen asked.

"He lawyered up. Been charged with three counts. Assault on an officer, brandishing a firearm, and uttering death threats. We're working on an attempted abduction charge. We got people scouring his hotel room and cars, and cops in Arizona going through his house. He said he had a plan for her. We're looking for details and proof on what those plans were."

"He's crazy." Carmen said and shook her head.

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one." Speed said. "Met the boyfriend downstairs. You're right. He's a big boy."

"He's an amazing guy and a great friend." Carmen told him. "Not to mention an incredible cop. You guys will get along."

"No doubt." Speed agreed. He seems all right."

Danny came out of the room, closing his note book and looking more than a little pissed off.

"Is she okay?" Carmen asked.

Danny nodded. "Tough little Brooklyn chick. That woulda broke someone else. See you and my buddy are playing nice."

"I am capable of not being a total bitch, Messer." Carmen informed him.

"Coulda fooled me." Danny teased. "What's the word on my buddy Zack?"

Speed filled him in.

Danny sighed. "Why do I get the feeling we'll be making a trip to Arizona before this is all over?"

"Wonderful." Speed snorted. "I always hated the heat."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Carmen asked Sam, sitting beside her friend on the faux leather sofa. "I can call Adam and have him come and get you?"

"I'm fine, Carmen." Sam insisted. "If you call Adam then he'll bring my dad and I just can't deal with that right now. He'll go off the deep end and blow things out of proportion."

"Blow things out of porportion? Honey, your ex showed up here with a gun. God knows what he was going to do to you. How much out of porportion can things be? What a hell of a two days."

"Thanks for being here, Carmen." Sam said quietly.

"Hey. Where else am I going to be? You're my girl."

"Getting in Zack's face like you did. Standing up for me."

"You do the same for me." Carmen said.

Sam smiled in agreement.

"We're friends. Friends have each others backs. It's what we do. Protect each other. No matter what. We do, and know, what's best for one another. And right now, what's best for you is to go home and take it easy."

"I'm fine." Sam assured her. "Really. I'm fine. I just need some time to get myself together. That's all."

"Well do you want anything? Some water? A tea? Some tequila?"

Sam gave a little laugh. "Tequila sounds good.'

"Pink sprinkle donut?"

Sam laughed even harder. "What is it with you and those donuts? I'm going to buy you a years supply of Krispy Kreme for Christmas."

"Yeah? Well I'll tuck a bottle of Jose Cuervo in your stocking."

A loud knock came to the door. Carmen glanced over and smiled at Flack.

"Now here's a pick me up." Carmen said to Sam. "A hot cop coming to read ya your rights and cuff ya and strip search ya. Lucky girl." she squeezed Sam's shoulder and went to the door.

"She okay?" Flack asked.

"She will be now that you're here. Word of warning? Monroe is lurking around. She's just waiting for something to run back to Gerrard or Sinclair with. So no sex in here.Got it."

"You're funny, Devine." Flack said as he entered the room. "Very, very funny."

She smiled and winked as she left.

Flack approached the couch and crouched down in front of it, a bottle of water in his hand. Sam had her head down, staring at her trembling hands.

"You okay?" he asked.

She shook her head.

He placed the water in her hand.

"Thank you." she whispered and took a sip before dropping her head again.

"Hey." Flack laid a hand on the side of her face. Pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, rubbing gently at the top of her ear with his thumb and forefinger.

She looked up and into his eyes.

"Everything's over now." he assured her. "He's downstairs and he can't hurt you anymore."

"This is what I warned you about." she said, tears in her eyes.

"What?"

"All the baggage. When I said it wasn't fair to you to have to deal with it. Do you see now what I mean? This is insane, Don. My life is insane and you don't need that. You need someone normal and stable who doesn't have a gun toting pyshco ex boyfriend."

"No part of my life is normal or stable." Flack said. "And I don't want anyone else. I want you."

"It's not fair to you to have to deal with this." she argued.

"Sam, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I choose to be here. And you can't walk away any more than I can."

"I can't believe he did this! Show up here with a gun! I didn't think he was capable of this!"

"Bad things happen to good people." Flack reasoned.

She smiled. "You sounded so cop right then."

"The important thing is that you're okay and he can't hurt you anymore. And you've got a lot of friends here that are willing to put their asses on the line to help you out."

"I'm sorry." she said sadly.

"You really have to stop saying that all the time."

"Its something I do. I can't help it. I was always made to feel like I did something wrong, that I wasn't good enough. It's a hard habit to break."

"Well, we're gonna have to work on breaking it. Together. Okay?"

She nodded.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She circled his neck with her arms and buried her face in the spot between his shoulder and his neck. He was so warm and smelled so good and made her feel safe.

"I really think you should go home." Flack suggested.

"I can not deal with my father right now. I just can't."

"Then we'll go to your place and you'll grab some stuff and I'll take you to my place. You can get some sleep and take it easy while i finish my shift. Then I'll come home and we'll order out and just hang around. Sound good?"

"Oreos." she said.

"What? What about oreos?"

"Oreos are my comfort food. Oreos and red licorice."

"Okay. So I'll stop somewhere and get you oreos and red licorice. Anything else? Any ice cream?"

She giggled. "Ice cream is good, too."

"I get to pick the flavor this time. And eat it off you."

She giggled even louder and kissed the sensitive spot below his ear.

"God... don't do that. You do that and I won't get back to work."

"That's a bad thing?"

"It is when you're on Gerrard's shit list."

"Party pooper." she teased and pulled away.

"I need to stop somewhere on the way." he said.

"Where?"

"Drug store."

"For?"

He arched both eye brows and grinned.

"A little hopeful are we?"

"I just might give in. Gotta be prepared. Ready to go?"

She nodded and stood up.

Flack pulled her into a tight hug. "It's gonna be okay, baby." he promised her, a hand on the back of her head and his lips to her ear.

"I know." she said.

* * *

Adam was nervous. The man standing next to him in the elevator was built like a sherman tank and fighting mad. When Mac had called Adam about the incident, he was picking his dad up at JFK and he couldn't hide the news from the former Air Force pilot. Clint had insisted he be taken right away to the lab. And there was no arguing with The Sarge.

Danny was on his way to Mac's office to go over his notes when he saw Adam step off the elevator with a massive wall of a man with shocking white hair and a Wyatt Earp moustache.

"You work here?" Sarge asked gruffly.

Danny pointed to himself.

"Ya. You. You work here?"

"Dad, this is Detective Danny Messer." Adam said. "He's a CSI like Sam. Danny, this is The Sarge.. I mean my dad."

"Nice to meet you, sir." Danny offered his hand.

"Gotta strong hand shake there, son. You ever in the service?"

"No, sir. Just the NYPD." Danny answered.

"Tell a lot about a man by his hand shake. Your's is strong and noble. You work with my daughter?"

"I do."

"Can you tell me what happened on your watch?" Sarge asked.

"Yesterday or today?" Danny replied.

"Both."

"Sam's boy... a friend of her's and I were coming back from a crime scene and saw her ex whacking her around, trying to drag her off. We stopped him. The other detective, he beat the crap out of him. Twice."

"You're one of the boys that Adam told me about? Went to the hotel to teach that sonofabitch a lesson."

"I was there." Danny said. "But the other dtective did the damage."

"Good for him. I'm glad someone finally nailed that bastard. What's this about him coming here today?"

"I wasn't here at the time." Danny replied. "Best person to talk to would be our boss. He made the arrest. You should talk to him."

"I certainly plan on doing that. Where's my daughter?"

"She's down in the break room talking to Flack."

"Who?"

"Detective Don Flack. He's her boy..."

Adam shook his head frantically.

"He's a friend." Danny said.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief.

"What kind of friend?" The Sarge asked.

"Just a friend." Danny assured him. "It was nice to meet ya, but I got to get back to work. Lots to do, not enough time to do it in. Take care."

"You as well." The Sarge said and shook Messer's hand once more.

"Good luck." Danny whispered to Adam as he walked by him.

"Where's the break room?" The Sarge asked his son.

Adam reluctantly led the way. When they got there, he nearly died a quick, silent death when there was Samantha and Flack hugging, her hands up the back of his jacket.

The Sarge took control.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing with my daughter?"

* * *

Sam was both furious and embarrassed. She stood with her hands on her hips. The Sarge did the same. Staring each other down.

"Explain young lady." he said.

"Dad, this is Detective Don Flack. Don, this is my father, Hitler. I mean Clint. Dad, Don is my..."

"Friend." Flack finished and offered his hand.

The Sarge shook it, eyeing the young man suspiciously. "You always hug your friends like that, Samantha?" he asked.

"Certain ones." she replied.

"Just what kind of friend are you?" The Sarge asked Flack. "The kind that sleeps on the couch if he stays over or the kind that shares the bed."

"Well he offered to sleep on the couch..." Sam began.

The Sarge glared at her.

"Well he did." she said. "And before you knock him out, dad, he's the one that put Zack in the hospital last night."

"And that's suppose to make up for the fact that he's sharing a bed with my daughter?"

"Dad, you are over reacting." Sam said.

"Over reacting, huh? I come here and your brother tells me about this little incident earlier and when I get here, you're making out with some guy."

"Dad," Sam remained calm. "We were not making out. We were hugging. That's it. Don was comforting me and..."

''I bet he was." The Sarge eyed Flack again. "How old are you?" he asked.

"Thirty." Flack replied.

"You look older."

"Dad! Do you want to see his ID?" Sam asked.

"What do you do?" The Sarge ignored her.

"I'm a second grade homicide detective."

"Make good money?"

"Dad!" Sam exclaimed.

"Come from a good family?" he continued.

"Dad! Honestly!"

"What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Sam wanted to hide under a rock.

"Sir," Flack chose his words carefully. "I care a lot about your daughter. My intentions are good. All I want is to take care of her and make her feel safe and protected. That's it."

"And you think you can do it?"

"Absolutely."

The Sarge snorted. "It'll be fun to see you try. You know, I commanded troops for over thirty years. Big tough burly guys in dire circumstance. And I came out on top. But this one..." he gestured to Sam. "This one nearly broke me. You're in for a hell of a ride, son. Good luck."

"Dad!" Sam wailed. "Please!"

"Giving him fair warning is all. Needs to know what he's getting himself into. So where''s the little bottom feeding bastard Zack? Hell I hope."

"He's in holding, Dad." Sam replied. "Until he's sent back to Arizona."

"I'd love to be he one to take him. Toss him out at thirty five thousand feet. So you're the kid that beat the piss out of him?"

Flack nodded.

"Gotta give ya thanks for that. I've been dying to do it for years. You okay, lady bug? You look beat up."

"I'm fine, daddy. I've had worse beatings. I had a doctor look at me and he said I'm okay."

"And what's this about you staying at a friend's house?"

"That would be me!" Carmen exclaimed cheerfully as she breezed into the room. "Detective Carmen Devine. You must be Clint."

"A pleasue." Clint said and kissed her hand. "You're the yung lady my lady bug is moving in with soon."

"That's me. I just thought that with everything that's been going on, Sam would like to have some girl time for a few days. I hope that you can understand."

"I can understand the ladies needing their time."

Thank you, Flack mouthed to Carmen behind Clint's back.

Carmen smiled.

"As long as she comes to visit her old man while he's here." Clint said.

"Of course." Sam assured him.

"Are you ready?" Carmen asked Sam.

"Yeah. All ready. Daddy, I'll call you. We can have lunch tomorrow. I'm sorry. I just need some space."

"Of course lady bug." he said and hugged and kissed her.

Carmen scribbled something in her log book and ripped out the page and handed it to Flack.

MEET US DOWNSTAIRS IN TEN MINS.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Devine." Clint said and kissed her hand again.

"You as well." she smiled.

"And you." Clint turned to Flack. "You better take good care of her!"

"Sir, that's all I want to do. I'll do a good job."

"We'll see about that. Where's this Marine Taylor?"

"I'll take you down there." Flack offered, arching an eyebrow at Sam and Carmen as they left.

"Don't be scared, Flack!" Carmen called.

Clint laughed. "Be afraid, kid. Be very afraid."

* * *

"I am so sorry." Sam couldn't stop apologizing.

"I thought your father was dead." Flack said as he drove.

"My real dad is. That's my step dad. He married my mom when I was sixteen and raised Adam and I as his own."

"You know, I can stare down the barrel of an AK-47 and talk down a terrorist and not blink an eye." Flack said. "But that? That was fucking scary!"

"He's harmless." Sam assured him.

"People thought Dahmer was harmless too!"

"He's just over protective." Sam reasoned.

"Ya think?"

"I am so sorry. But it was just as painful for me as it was for you."

"Sam! If he finds out you're not at Carmen's and with me, he'll kill me! I won't see thirty one!"

"Don, calm down."

"Calm down? The man looks like he can pull a tractor trailer and you want me to calm down?"

She sighed. "I am so sorry." she repeated. "I told you my family was mental. You handled it well, though."

"You so owe me later." Flack declared.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You like mint chocolate chip ice cream?" he asked.

* * *

She moaned loudly. Gripped at the sheets below her with one hand and his short hair with the other as his lips, tongue and fingers worked her into a frenzy. Her back arched off the bed, her hips meeting his mouth. His free hand grabbed a hold of the hand in his hair and held it tightly on the mattress.

"Don..." she moaned even louder as he picked up the force of the thrustng of his fingers and the movements of his tongue. "Fuck!" she cried out. "Oh God... oh God..."

An orgasm so intense ripped through her so hard that she had to grab a pillow and press it against her face to stifle the scream. Her entire body arching off the bed, her toes curling. Her finger nails dug painfully into his hand. It felt like a lifetime before her body finally relaxed back against the wrinkled sheets.

He removed his fingers, let go of her hand and kissed all the way to her neck. Removed the pillow from her face and tossed it aside to kiss her.

She opened her eyes. Found herself staring into his.

"I gotta go." he said. Still wearing his pants, tie and shirt.

She pouted dramatically.

He kissed her. Long and soft. She could taste both herself and mint ice cream on his lips.

"Now we're even." he said.

**Enough said. Hoped y'all enjoyed that. BOOM. Done.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Attention any affliated with the CSI franchise:**

**I no own.**

**Me no money.**

**You lots of money.**

**You no sue me.**

**Kapish?**

* * *

**Coffee and Co-habitating**

"I need a little more help than a little bit

Like the perfect one word no one's heard yet

'cuz everytime I try I get tongue tied

I need a little good luck to get

me by this time."

-Tongue Tied, Faber Drive

* * *

Carmen sighed heavily and yawned noisily. A glance at her watch told her there was an hour left in the shift and it was going by painfully slow. The ordeal with Zack had left her emotionally drained.

At least its over, she thought with relief. At least for the most part. He was enjoying a stale baloney sandwich and a squeaky old rusted cot courtesy of the state of New York. He didn't even deserve that much. What he really deserved was to be shot and pissed on and shoved in a pine box and buried as close to hell as possible.

She had offered to lend a hand in trace and was regretting her decision. Her eyes burned and her head pounded from spending way too long peering into the high powered microscope. She closed her eyes and put her hands to her temples ad massaged vigorously and imagined herself on an exotic beach somewhere, sipping Malibu and Coke.

"Rise and shine, Red." a deep, soothing voice said from in front of er.

Her eyes snapped open and she righted herself. The more time she spent being around Tim Speedle, the more she realized her was a decent guy and she hadn't had a reason to be so rude to him earlier. Although she'd never tell him that.

Why does he have to be so goddamn rugged and sexy? she thought fornlornly. Why does he have to smell so good and get under my skin and burrow himself there?

"Dirty dream?" Speed asked.

She smiled. "Maybe..."

He grinned. "You look like you are in some desperate need for a coffee. Extra large, extra strong."

"You are a good judge of character." she said. "Any news on Zack?"

"Hawkes and Mac found a standard home made abduction kit in the trunk of his car. Duct tape, hand cuffs, some rope, garbage bags. Your basic I'm gonna kidnap someone shit. Along with a sawed of Remington twelve gauge that is now sitting down in ballistics. He meant business. Guys in Phoenix found a detailed manifesto of sorts on his home computer and a room he'd built in the basement that they said, and I quote, reminded them of something out of the movie Saw. I'll spare you the details."

"Please do." Carmen shuddered at the thought.

"You know," Speed pulled up a stool and sat down across from her. "that was ballsy of you. Getting in his face like that.'

"I'm a ballsy kind of girl." she said.

"Nice to know you'd do that for a friend."

"She's not just a friend. She's more than that. More than even a best friend. Like a sister."

"She obviously feels the same way about you. You two are tight."

Carmen nodded.

"Good to see. She's lucky to have you."

"Actually," Carmen said. "I'm lucky to have her."

Speed smiled.

"Did you have friends like that in Miami?" she asked curiously.

"A couple." he revealed. "But I'm not really the friends kind of guy."

"You're the loner. Srong, silent, brooding type."

"And you say I'm a good judge of character."

Carmen yawned again.

"You wanna go grab something? After work?" Speed asked.

"I don't go out with people I work with." she replied.

"Just a coffee, Red. I ain't asking ya to marry me."

"Good. Because I'd say no."

"Thought you liked the dark, brooding types." he tossed back at her.

She felt her cheeks flushed.

"Just a coffee." he assured her.

She smiled. "With a shot of Bailey's?"

"Whatever you want." Speed said. "Personally, I'm gonna have ten times that."

* * *

Danny didn't want to go home. Home was lonely and quiet and he didn't want lonely and quiet tonight. Home brought back way too many memories. It gave him too much to time to think. Lying there in the dark, exhausted by unable to grasp sleep, his mind racing and his chest aching. There were no memories of him and Lindsay. There'd never rally been any moments that qualified as memory worthy. The couple of times they'd spent the night together following the pool table incident, had happened at her place so he had no mental image of her in his bed. Neither time had meant much more to him than searching for and finding much needed release after a long day. He didn't love her. He had fooled himself into thinking he did. he'd made the mistake of saying those words to her. Of falling into the trap of needing someone, or anyone,so bad that he convinced himself it was more than it was.

Its easier to pretend your in love than accept that your alone. Flack had said that once. One of Flack's rare deep, thoughtful moments where he said something and you looked at the guy and wondered where the hell that had come from and where did the real Flack go. Flack got thoughtful and sentimental when he was drunk. If you wanted to see a big burly cop in tears over past mistakes and failed chances and memories of a less than ideal father son relationship, all you had to do was keep plying Flack with shots of JD and pints of Guinness and before long he was bawling on your shoulder and telling you he loved you and pouring his guts out to whoever would listen. Then the next day he'd be the same old Flack and give you that look that meant if you ever told anyone about the night before, he was going to snap you in half. And Danny liked his body in one piece. Alone or not.

It wasn't that Danny was alone. He had friends. Lots of friends. And usually those riends were readily available for a coffee or a beer an some guy talk. Except sometime when Danny wasn't looking, those friends had suddenly found what he was struggling to find. Someone to love them and need them. Take care of them. When things hadn't worked ou between Flack and that dumb ass socialite, Danny had been secretely happy and relieved. It meant that Flack would be around when Danny needed him to be. Whe he was with Devon, she had Flack hanging out with her friends and attending her formal galas. A blue collar guy stuck in a white collar world.

Devon couldn't stand the thought of being a bar that didn't serve champagne or in a restaurant that the meal didn't cost well over two hundred a person. And she couldn't stand Flack's friends. She thought they were loud and obnoxious and annoying. It was fine with the team because they couldn't stand her either. She was a pretentious and brain dead, boring dumb bitch. Things balanced themselves out well.

They broke up because Devon go tired of Flack's job coming first and Flack got tired of being an accessory. Flack became Flack again and everything was right in the world of Danny Messer. Back to shooting hoops and playing pool and drinking until they stumbled home, alone but happy. Were they happy? Flack never seemed truly happy with his life. But he didn't have the time or the energy to go out and find 'the one'. Someone that would accept being second to the job. Who wouldn't freak every time the phone rang in the middle of the night or during more intimate times. Someone who didn't cringe when he talked shop. Someone who would accept Flack for who he was. There were few women like that. No one like to come after a job. But it happened. A lot.

And now, the guy who vowed to be singe forever, looked very much like he was starting to re-neg. Danny saw how happy Flack was. A genuine, all out happiness and completeness Danny had never seen before or experienced himself. Flack was in love. There was no other word for it. He was head over heels in love. And Danny couldn't stand it. He was happy for Flack. He'd managed to find himself a decent, beautiful and intelligent woman. Maybe she was 'the one'. But Danny couldn't help but be jealous.

And Speed. What was up with Speed? He couldn't stay away from Carmen. And that was not like Speed. Speed stuck to himself and liked it that way. Less chance of getting hurt. And the more Carmen mouthed him off and gave him a hard time, the more Speed hung around. Definitely not Tim Speedle.

Danny couldn't go home. Too many things on his mind. His screwed up non relationship with Lindsay, his friends bailing on him. And Reuben. Reuben bothered him the most. He could still hear the kid banging on his door, begging him to get up. Still see him, the pride in his eyes at the blessing on the bikes. How cute Rueben had looked in his little helmet, pedalling along on that gorgeous sunny morning. telling Danny how his mom never let him ride ahead. They were laughing and chatting and making plans to grab some lunch. Having a good time. And then the phone call from Lindsay and Rueben riding ahead and turning the corner and...a gunshot. Running to catch up, yelling at Reuben to get home, take the short cut. He'd assumed Rueben had made it home. And he could still feel the bile and horror rise in his throat when he saw Reuben lying there on Hammerbeck's table and...

He wouldnt think about that. He wouldn't tortuer himself. He'd been torturing himself for months now. And going home would only compound the torture.

Instead, he headed for the all night coffee place by his apartment. He was a regular there. On a first name basis with the owner and wait staff. He wouldn't feel alone there. He didn't need to talk or have anyone talk to him. The background noise would be enough to keep him distracted.

He reached for the door and yanked it open. A pretty blond came nearly stumbling out and into him. She was tall and curvy with bouncy curls and powder blue eyes. She wore pale yellow hospital scrubs and a pair of those God awful Croc sandles Danny had complained to Sam about when he saw her wearing them two days ago on her way home. The sweet looking blond thing was visibly flustered as she juggled two carry trays of coffee cups.

Danny instinctively reached out and unloaded her off the trays. Danny Messer was a gentleman when it came to things like that.

"Thank you sooo much." the young lady gushed in appreciation.

"Hell of a load to carry there." Danny commented. "You got far to take these?"

"Just to my car." she gestured to a beat up Toyota at the curb a few spots down.

"Lead the way." Danny said and followed her. "You a nurse?" he asked.

She nodded. "In the ICU at Cedars Sinai. You?"

"I'm a cop. Detective actually. Crime Scene Investigator."

"That must be exciting. And its a small world. My cousin is a CSI, too."

"Here? In New York?"

She nodded. "Well, she's in New York now."

"Wait a second... you're cousin didn't just come from Arizona did she?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah. Samantha Ross. You work the same shift?"

"I know her very well. How's that for weird? Me meeting you and working with your cousin. You guys close?"

"I'm hoping to be now that she's back home." she fished a pair of keys from her pocket and unlocked the driver's side door. "Thank you again." she said and took the trays from him and settled them on her front passenger seat.

"No problem." Danny said sincerely. "Miss..."

"Erica. My name's Erica."

"I'm Danny." he offered his hand. Her hand was small and soft and warm as he shook it.

"It was really nice of you." she said again.

"Have a good night." Danny said with a smile and began heading away.

"Hey... Danny!" she called to him.

He doubled back to the car.

"Maybe I could treat you to coffee sometime. For helping me out."

He smiled. "You could do that." he said.

She grabbed a scrap piece of paper from her glove compartment and an eyeliner to use as a pen and scribbled down her name and number. "Have a nice night, Danny." she said and folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of hs leather bomber jacket.

"I'll call you." he promised.

She smiled as she climbed into her car. "I hope so." she said and closed the door.

Danny stood on the curb and watched her drive away. Suddenly the lonliness began to lift.

* * *

Mac Taylor and Clint Chambers sat across from one another at a table in the fifth floor cafeteria of the crime lab. It was the only one of the three cafeterias that were open twenty four hours and it was well after nine. Mac had been so busy with Zack Turner fiasco that this was the first chance he got to sit down with the man. Clint had asked to see him and had come back to the lab on his own accord.

So they sat and sipped black coffee and shared stories about their time in the service. Clint talked about commanding paratroopers in Korea and the Balkans and Mac talked about the bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut and his time in Operation Desert Storm. Both men found they were a lot alike and quckly developed a respect for each other.

"I need to ask you something, Taylor." Clint said in all seriousness as they still sat there an hour later.

"Go ahead." Mac urged.

"Whose this kid my daughter is messing around with?"

"With all due respect, Clint, Don Flack is thirty years old and no more kid than you and I."

Clint nodded slowly.

"And he's a hell of a cop." Mac said.

"Never mind what kind of cop he is. What kind of man is he? For my daughter? She's my main concern first and foremost. I need to know that whoever this guy is, he's not another Zack."

"He's far from being anything like Zack." Mac assured him. "He's a good, upstanding young man. He always back his friends. He was the one that got your son and Danny Messer out of that warehouse that day. Put his ass on the line many a time to help Danny out as a matter of fact. Speaking honestly, I believe his feelings for your daughter are genuine. I know he cares a lot about her. He was furious when he found out about what Zack did to her. Not to mention he put his career on the line by going to that hotel and laying a beating on that kid."

Clint considered all of this, sipping slowly at his coffee.

"He's got a level head." Mac continued. "And since he was gravely injured two years ago on the job..."

"What happened to him?" Clint asked curiously.

"He nearly died when a bomb was detonated at a crime scene we were at. He stayed behind to clear people out of the building. He was in the hospital for nearly three months and spent another month and a half recovering at home and doing re-hab and physio. I think it gave him a new perspective on life. He wants something to hold on to and he feels your daughter is that something."

"In all honesty, Mac... if this was your daughter, is this a guy you'd want her bringing home?"

"I'd have no objections." Mac answered quickly and confidently.

Clint sighed. "I just don't want her getting hurt. She's been through a lot all ready."

"You don't have to worry about him hurting her. You have my word."

"As his boss?"

"No." Mac said. "As a Marine"

* * *

They walked through the Strawberry Fields section of Central Park. Sipping at steaming cups of coffee and alternating between gazing up at the stars and catching themselves observing each other when one thought the other wasn't looking. It was a beautiful summer night. A slight breeze tousled the tree tops and the moon was full and bright and stars twinkled in the black velvet sky. The temperature had dropped considerably. Forecasters were predicting steady rain beginning after midnight and lasting for at least twenty four hours.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself, Carmen." Speed said.

She stopped walking and turned to stare at him. Taken aback that he'd actually called her by her name. "What would you like to know?" she asked, when she'd gotten over her small state of shock and began walking once again.

"I don't know. Bits and pieces, I guess."

"Well..." she sipped her coffee and considered what to mention and what to leave out. "I'm originally from Portland. I came to New York City to attend college after my brother was killed in the line of duty. He was a firefighter."

"Sorry to hear that." Speed said sympathetically. "You guys were close?"

"We were. I took it pretty bad. It still bothers me after all this time. Its not something I like talking about."

"Well then you don't have to." he told her and smiled gently. "What about your folks? They still around?"

"In Portland. Thank God. My mom and I get along all right. My dad and I... let's just say we both have very different expectations for my life and we don't see eye to eye on them. I don't think I've had a civil conversation with my father in years. Actually, any type of conversation for that matter."

"All your college education, why'd you become a cop?"

"I don't know. Serve and protect I guess."

Speed laughed and shook his head and sipped his coffee.

"What?" she couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. It seemed so light hearted and genuine. "What's so funny?"

"That's just the answer we all give when we're going into the academy. I'm here because I want to serve and protect. What a line of shit."

"Okay, Mr Speedle..." she stepped in front of him challengingly and walked backwards. "Why did you with your degrees become a cop?"

"Help people. Feel like I'm making a difference."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Who am I kidding? I became a cop to chase bad guys and because they give me a badge and a gun and I get paid to use them."

"Much better." she laughed and fell back in step beside him. "So tell me more about yourself. Tim."

He smiled. No one had called him Tim in years. In fact, he was called Speed so often it may as well have been his legal name.

"What would you like to know?" he asked. "I'm originally from Syracuse and I have a masters in biology from Columbia."

"Family?"

"None. My parents are dead, no brothers or sisters. Relatives I haven't seen in years."

"What about your friends in Miami? Do you ever talk to them?"

"No. That part of my life got left behind the day I came home. That was an old Tim Speedle. He died that day in that jewellery store."

Carmen arched an eyebrow curiously.

"Police shoot out." Speed explained. "Wrong place at the wrong time. Got shot in the chest, nearly coded twice, brought back to life all that fun stuff that comes with having a bullet in your heart. Came back here to recuperate, went into PI work and now, here I am, working at another crime lab."

Carmen liked the way he was so straight to the point and confident. She found herself thinking there wasn't much she didn't like about him. Get a grip, she thought. He's just a guy you work with. Nothing more. And he'll never be more. That's the way you have to keep it. To protect yourself.

"Well you're a good person to have around." she said. "You've all ready proven that."

"I wasn't just going to stand there and let some guy bully an ex around. Things could have been a hell of a lot worse."

She nodded. "Do you like being back in New York?" she asked.

"I'm starting to." he said and smiled softly at her.

Carmen felt a lump form in her throat and her pulse quicken. She was glad that it was dark out and he couldn't see the flush that came over her face. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her that way. Especially a man like him. She shivered involuntarily.

"Cold?" he asked, and before she could respond was taking off his light jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Thanks." she said, her voice meek. She'd never heard her voice sound like that before. It was frightening. He was frightening. So intense and dark and sullen and mysterious. And he smelled so good. She fought the urge to nuzzle her face in his jacket to breath in more of that masculine scent.

"Its getting late." Speed said, tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage can.

Carmen nodded. Afraid to say anything in case he noticed the disappointment in her voice.

"You live far from here?" he asked as they headed back the way they'd come. Walking close together, their arms occasionally brushing against each other. Neither attempted to move away. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. There was no denying that she was a beautiful woman. Head strong and intelligent and independent to a fault. And the way the moonlight danced in her eyes and shone in her hair was intoxicating. It had been a hell of a long time since he'd looked at a woman that way. He was starting to feel alive again. Human for the first time since the shooting.

"Twenty minutes on the subway." she replied.

"I'll put you in a cab. Make sure you get home okay."

"You don't have to." she said.

"I want to." he informed her.

They walked in silence back to the entrance of the park. True to his word, he flagged her a cab and slipped the driver a twenty. Told him to make sure she got in the front door of the building safely and not to pull away until she was out of his sight.

"Thanks for the coffee." she said, pausing as she went to slip into the back of the yellow cab.

"Never got the Bailey's in there, though." he said with a grin.

"Next time." she assured him and smiled gently, then slipped into the cab and shut the door.

He knocked on the window before the driver could pull away.

She rolled it down.

"I like it when you call me Tim." he told her.

"So do I." she said with a wink and rolled the window back up as the cab pulled away.

She had just stepped in her door when her cell phone beeped to show in incoming text message. She unclipped it from her pants pocket and checked the display.

**You've got my jacket** it read simply.

She grinned and sent a message back. **Finders Keepers. **Then turned off her phone and buried her face in that jacket and inhaled a long, deep breath.

Carmen Devine, she thought. What the hell do you think you're doing?

* * *

It was after nine by the time that Don Flack finally got the key in the lock of his apartment. He had wanted to be home a hell of a lot earlier by a last minute call had turned the day into a sixteen hour instead of an eight hour. He was tired and sore. On long days like that, especially with the damp threat of rain in the air, the ache in his chest and his back always seemed to creep up. He'd thought that after two years that would all be behind him. But there were days and nights it was so bad he could barely sleep and he had to stand under a hot shower for nearly an hour to feel any sort of relief. The Tylenol three had long ago stopped doing anything for the pain. The doctors had suggested something stronger, but when the first two rounds of Percocet had pushed him closer and closer to utter dependency, he'd pulled the plug on that. He may have been many things, but a druggie he was not.

Samantha was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with her lap top open in front of her, and a half eaten bag of oreo cookies beside her. Pounding at the mouse pad with two fingers and cursing so badly it could make a trucker blush. It seemed so natural and so right to see her sitting there like a permanent fixture. As if she'd always been there. Truth was, it was nice to have someone to come home to. And when that someone looked like her and was wearing one of your shirts and nothing else by the looks of it, it was even nicer. He realized when the thought of having her there permanently didn't scare the shit out of him, that he was in way over his head. And that he had no intention on getting out.

"Beating the shit out of it will not solve your problem." Flack said and dropped his keys on the microwave.

"I'm taking out my frustrations on it." she huffed. "I can't use this stupid thing! Adam said it was one of the better one! Well he was full of shit!"

"It's not the computer." Flack said "Its the person using it."

"Ha. Ha." she snorted and slammed her fingers down on the key board. "Stupid fucking piece of shit."

"Samantha, you've got a worse mouth on you than I do." he informed her and laid a hand on her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "Did you sleep?" he asked.

"A couple of hours." she said and pushed her chair away from the table to stand up. "You know, I'm very impressed. You're one of the cleaner guys I've been around. You can actually eat of your floors if you wanted to. And the bathroom isn't disgusting. I didn't need to fumigate the toilet to use it."

"Its 'cause I'm never here." he reasoned. "And I'm sorry I'm late."

"Its okay. I took a bath and checked my e-mail and relaxed. I thought I'd wait for you to get something to eat." she loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons on his shirt. "Work was okay?"

"Fine. But let's not talk about work." he laid a hand on her hip and kissed her long and soft.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked, slowly undoing the rest of his buttons.

"How dangerous it is that you're walking around in just my shirt and underwear."

"Actually," she said, grinning up at him. "I'm not wearing any underwear."

"I am going to pretend that you never said that."

"What? Does the thought of me not wearing any underwear get you all hot and bothered?"

"A little." he admitted and had to pry her hands from his belt buckle. "You need to just take it easy." he said.

"So only you get to have fun? That's not fair." she leaned against the counter closest to him and grabbed an oreo cookie from the package and pulled the top off it it. "You're still not going to try that no actual sex thing after what happened when we first got here are you?"

"I just don't think you're ready for 'actual sex' as you call it. Especially not with the last two days you've had."

"And what do you call what you did this afternoon?" she inquired, pressing her tongue against the white icing and then licking it slowly with the tip.

"That was not sex."

"Okay Bill Clinton." she teased and scooped some icing off with the tip of her tongue.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, attempting to hide the fact he was totally turned on by her eating an oreo cookie in such fashion.

"Remember how I told you that chocolate acts like an aphrodesiac for me?"

"Yeah..."

"Well I ate half a bag of oreos."

He shook his head.

"And never mind what red licorice does and I ate all of those." she was turning the simple act of eating the inside of an oreo an erotic experience for him. And he didn't know how much more he could take.

"Do you mind?" he asked "Seriously."

"Mind what?" she asked innocently and scraped some of the icing off with her finger and then licked her finger slowly.

"Fuck woman... stop teasing me so much."

"Then give in." she said. "I know you want to."

"Of course I want to... its just that..."

"I promise I'll be gentle."she vowed and reached out and grabbed him by the waist of his pants and yanked him towards her so he was pressed up tightly against her and she was pinned against the cupboard.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked, looking into those golden eyes, his hands on her hips.

"Only what you let me." she replied.

He kissed her. Long and deep, his tongue in her mouth, his one hand sliding down her hip and up the bottom of the shirt, his finger tips finding nothing but the silky skin of her lean thigh.

She reached between them for his belt buckle again and had gotten it undone and the button of his pants snapped open when he pulled away.

"I need to go take a shower." he said. "A long, long long extremely cold shower."

"I told you I wasn't wearing any underwear." she said with a grin.

"I'll be back." he told her. "You stay here. Okay?"

"Are you afraid I'll rape you or something?" she asked as he left.

"I just don't think tonight is the right night. That's all." he replied as he headed down the hall towards the bathroom.

She wasn't going to give up that easy. She knew what she wanted and how to get it and wasn't taking no for an answer. She waited a few minutes and then went down the hall way and into the bathroom where he was just setting up the water.

"Samantha... I told you that..."

"Listen to me." she said aggressively and backed him against the wall. "I appreciate you being all gentlemanly and respecting my feelings and for thinking you know what's best for me. But let me make this very clear to you Don Flack..." she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside and then vigorously finished undoing the rest of his shirt buttons and his pants. "Me and you are having sex tonight. Right here. Right now. Am I making it clear to you?" she slipped her hands down the front of his boxers.

"Crystal." he said.

"And I know that you want our first time together to be romantic and all because you think that's what I need and what I want, but what I need and what I want is for you to just fuck the shit out of me all ready. Understand? Now are you really going to say no? Do you really want to say no?"

"What I really want is for you to get your ass in that shower." he said. "And I'll give you exactly what you want."

She grinned broadly. "Its about fucking time."

**Aphina: we have to keep the secret! LOL! Hope Tim and Carmen are heading in the right direction for you**

**Annabel-Messer: this is different and I'm glad you are enjoying it! Welcome! p.s. Danny's getting some love!!**

**Mauveine: lots more hot to come. I promise. **

**Forest Angel: glad you are enjoying!**

**jayfray: welcome!**

**and the rest of you reading this:**

**thanks for the reviews and the support! **

* * *


	22. Chapter 22

**Acceptance and denial**

"I want you to live, I want you to love

I wanna go back to the way it was

to hear you say my name again

I wanna see your smile again

I want you to live."

-I Want You to Live, George Canyon

* * *

"I can't do this Carmen."

Flack was shaking. Deathly pale. He and Carmen sat in the front pew in the small chapel of the funeral home in Lower Manhattan. The director had asked him if he wanted to come an hour before the scheduled start of visitation so he could have 'private time'. He'd been unable to make the sad twenty minute drive alone. He had insisted that the kids didn't come to the funeral home. The church service on Saturday would be enough for them to deal with. Kieran had put up resistance. He was going to be ten soon and as far as he was concerned, he was old enough and strong enough for such an event. Flack had held firm and had an elderly neighbour come over to stay with all of them.

In his trembling hands were brightly coloured cards and pictures and letters in childish handwriting. Carmen had told the kids to do something for mommy that she could take with her to heaven so she could look at them and think of her babies down on earth. They'd happily obliged and even helped the two year old prepare something. Flack planned on putting the kids' things in the casket, along with a letter he'd written and refused to let anyone, even Carmen, read.

Carmen reached out and took his free hand. "Yes you can." she assured him. They were waiting for the director to finish last minute preparations and then come and get them.

"I can't..." he insisted. "I can't see her..."

"Don... she's your wife.. the mother of your children. You have to."

"I don't want to see her like that. I don't want my last memory of her to be like this."

"Then just think back to the last time you saw her and she was alive and well." she suggested.

"I can't think of that!" he argued.

"Why not?"

"Here? The last time I saw her, we were... you know..."

Carmen gave a small laugh. "Even after ten years and four kids you two were still like bloody rabbits."

"I always kept in enjoyable and interesting for her. My wife had no complaints."

"No. She didn't." Carmen agreed. "She said a lot of loving, sweet things about you, Don."

"Yeah?"

Carmen nodded.

"She wasn't one for saying things like that. Not to me anyway. Half the time we were arguing and she was telling me what an ass hole I was."

"She loved you." Carmen informed him.

He nodded and stared down at his wedding ring. "I know. we went through a lot, Carmen. There were times I didn't think we were going to make it. Sam didn't either. We talked once about it. Divorcing."

"Really?" Carmen was genuinely surprised. "I never knew that."

"We kept it to ourselves. It was private."

"Why were you talking about it?"

"We weren't getting along anymore. We were fighting a lot and saying a lot of mean, hurtful things to each other and the kids were getting in the middle and seeing it and it wasn't fair to them. It was a bad situation. I think we even hated each other there for a little bit. I think she hated me more than a few times in the past ten years."

"Are you insane?" Carmen asked. "Don, she loved you come hell of high water. She put up with a lot of shit to be with you. And vice versa."

"There's never been a time I didn't love her. But I was a real bastard to her."

"Don-"

"I was.Sometimes. I wasn't the easiest person to live with. There were times I drank too much, spent way too much time away from her and the kids, put the job ahead of her."

"She accetpted that reality when she married you, Don. She knew what marrying a cop would be like."

"Trust me." he said firmly. "I was a real bastard to her a few times. I didn't deserve her. The girl with the masters degree and a guy with a grade twelve. She could have had anyone she wanted. Danny, Hawkes, even Mac."

"She didn't want any of them. She wanted you. Plain and simple."

"Well I must have been a really good boy in a previous life than." Flack said. "Because my wife was amazing."

Carmen smiled. "Yes... she was."

He sighed heavily. "I'm scared." he said.

Carmen rubbed his back softly. "I know you are."

He stared down at the letters and cards in his hand. "How am I gonna do it?" he asked. "Raise four kids without her?"

"One day at a time, Flack." Carmen replied. "One day at a time."

* * *

Carmen felt numb. From head to toe. She was vaguely aware of the pounding of her heart and the nausea building in her stomach. There may as well have been no one else in the room save for herself and that once bubbly, hard working and energetic soul that was now deathly still in the polished oak casket before her. Her mind seemed incapable of thought or process. She felt the sympathetic eyes of the funeral director on her as he stood discreetly several feet behind. She could see out of the corner of her own eye that Flack was watching her intently, struggling with a flood of his own tears while holding out concern for her as well. That was so like Flack. Always looking out for others. Even at an immensely personal and painful time, he was still worried about her.

She moved closer to the coffin. It was surrounded by stunning flower arrangements and displays of pictures of her and Flack with the kids and of her and Adam and Clint and their mother when they were all much younger. Other photos of her and various members of the team. Carmen could only stare at the familiar face lying there in a bed of cream satin. A soft smile on the lips, hands clasped in traditional pose, a rosary between her fingers.

That can't be her, Carmen thought. It can't be. It looks like her but it can't be. She's not really gone. She's going to walk in this room any minute and tell us this is all a mistake. Some sick, twisted joke. That she's not really dead.

But she is. She is dead and for the first time since it happened, Carmen's brain finally clicks on. That this is real and it really did happen and that is her. She's gone and she's never coming back. She was never going to hear that girly little giggle again or hear some sarcastic comment in that Brooklyn accent or sit back with a coffee and share in some girl talk. No more processing crime scenes and chasing down perps and bitching that they were overworked and underpaid. No more proud mom bragging about her kids' achievements and showing off the newest pictures. That was all gone.

"Samantha..."

Did the name actually escape her lips? Or did she just imagine it? She stepped even closer to the coffin. She needed to see for sure. She put her hands on the edge of the smooth wood and shook her head repeatedly. She reached out and laid a hand over the cold, still hands clasped over a motionless chest. Touched her friend's face softly.

She whispered the name once more and completely broke down. Heavy, gut wrenching sobs taking over her entire body, screaming the word no over and over again as grief brought her to her knees.

"Carmen..."

Flack's voice from somewhere nearby. And then he was standing beside her and reaching down for her and she circled his legs with her arms and sobbed into him.

"Carmen..." he repeated, laying his hand on the top of her head.

"What am I going to do?" she wailed. "How am I going to go on without her? I loved her!"

"I know." Flack said and stroked her hair.

"She was my best friend! She never judged me or talked about me behind my back! She accepted me for who I was and all the little faults that came with it. And she was always there when I needed her and now she's gone! She's gone, Flack! What am I going to do?"

He reached down and untangled himself from her arms and took her underneath the arms and gently lifted her to her feet. Wrapped his big strong arms around her slender body and held her tightly.

"It's okay..." he whispered in her ear. "Its gonna be okay."

"If I hadn't have gone away none of this would have happened?"

"What?" Flack held her out at arms length. "Carmen, it wouldn't have made a difference no matter who was with her. It happened. And if someone else had have gone in there with her, it probably woulda been two dead cops. You don't think I haven't thought a million times about the what ifs. Every second of every day I think about them."

"What could you have done?"

"I don't know. Make her call in sick. Keep her home that day.Anything that would have kept her alive."

"She was a stubborn little thing." Carmen sniffled. "She wouldn't have listened to you."

"Probably not. But I've lost everything, Carmen. I've lost my wife and my best friend and the mother of my kids. And all I can think about is the if only side of things. I can't do this alone, Carmen. I can't. I need you to be the strong one. I need you to be here for me and my kids. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded.

"She loved you Carmen. You meant the world to her. You were always there for her no matter what."

"She was my girl." Carmen said and drew in a shaky breath. "You should go up there and have some time. Say what you have to say."

"I said it all in the hospital. I had my time then."

"You need this, Flack. You know you do."

He nodded and took a deep quivering breath and let it out slowly.

"I'll come with you." she offered.

"No. I need to do this alone. I need that last few minutes alone."

She nodded in understanding and laid a comforting hand on his forearm before being escorted out of the room by the funeral director.

"Take as much time as you need." the man said and smiled sadly at Flack before leaving.

He sighed heavily and steeled himself as he approached the coffin.

"Always thought you'd be doing this for me." he said light heartedly. He pushed her hair behind her ears. She always wore her hair behind her ears. Said she hated the feel of hair on her face. He touched her face softly with his fingertips. Needing to memorize every inch and feel of her face. Because in two days he wouldn't get the chance again.

He put the letters and pictures in the coffin alongside of her, fighting his tears. It was a loosing battle.

"I want you to know I love you." he whispered. "There was never a time I didn't love you. Ever since that day outside the lab. Moment I looked at you and you said something smart ass to me, I knew I loved you. Thank you for everything. For the life that we had the for my kids and for..." he choked up. " for loving me like you did even when I didn't deserve it."

He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out her wedding ring. "You always said you'd never take it off. And even if you can't wear it, you can still have it on you." he tucked it into the breast pocket of the blouse she'd been dressed in.

"I just..." he closed his eyes and composed himself. "I just wish none of this happened. I want things to go back the way they were. We were happy. We had a family and a house and we were happy. For once we were happy and ... I just want you back, baby. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh and hear you say my name again. That's all I want."

No answer. Not that he expected one. She was gone. And there'd be more questions and no answers for a very long time.

* * *

He needed to be alone. An hour into the public visitation and Flack had had enough. Enough of shaking peoples hands and accepting condolences and then listening to comments about how good she looked or how it looked just like her and she was in a better place now and thank God she didn't suffer.

He just couldn't deal. Because no matter how good a mortician was at their craft, a dead body still looked like a dead body and he didn't think that body looked anything like his wife. And a better place? What could be a better place than being with him and their kids? And as far as suffering went... well they weren't there in that ambulance listening to her gasping for breath and choking on her own blood and grabbing at her chest and at Stella's hands. She had suffered. She had lied there and known she was going to die. No one knew what went through her mind or what pain she was in or what her last words were. Stella said the last thing that came out of her lips before going into convulsions and crashing were: Tell Don...

She never finished the sentence. And now he'd always wonder what she was going to say.

He sat in a 'quiet room'. A place where people could go when they were feeling contemplative or needed time to themselves. There was always fresh coffee and cold drinks and a fish tank bubbling in the corner. He sat on one of the navy blue sofas, staring at the coffee in his hand when he felt the presence of someone standing in the doorway.

He glanced up.

"Flack?" the African American man in a well tailored three piece suit asked.

That voice. Something about that voice.

"I'm Flack." he concurred.

"You mean you don't remember me, son?"

With that one little word at the end, a flood gate of memories opened up.

"Carter?"

"How are you, Flack?" the new and improved Carter England entered the room.

"Jesus Christ, Carter." Flack shook his head and stood up. "Last time I heard you were in re-hab."

"Long time ago now, son. Almost nine years. Got myself clean, took some trade courses and got myself a job in sanitation. Got a job, decent place to live. Even a girl, son."

"Knew there was more out there for ya then the drugs. I'm happy to hear every things working out."

Carter nodded and offered a small smile. "I uh... I read it in the paper. About your wife. I remember the last time I saw you you;d guys just had a baby."

"That baby's nine years old now. Almost ten."

"Time flies for sure. Other kids?"

"Three. Twin boys that are almost seven. And a little girl that just turned two."

"No kiddin? Flack the daddy. Wonders never cease. Look, I just wanted to come and say thanks for helping me out all those times.You didn't have to, but you did. And I wanted to tell you that..." Carter sighed heavily. "I'm sorry about your wife Flack."

"Thank you." Flack said in a faltering voice.

And then Carter England reached out and pulled Flack into his embrace. "Gonna be okay." Carter assured him. "Gonna be okay, son."

* * *

Don Flack Sr never showed up to his daughter in law's wake. Flack Jr never said a word about it and accepted a hug from his mother and gave her a tense one of his own and then nodded at the bull shit excuse she made up. Truth was, when his mother showed up the visitation was almost over and Flack was emotionally drained from having to keep Danny and Adam from having breakdowns.

Carmen was pissed that the old man couldn't support his son that one time when he needed him the most. But Gavin Moran had shown up at the very start of things and stuck by Flack's side through the whole thing, as had Mac. With the two of them, Flack had two fatherly shoulders to rely on. Yet she knew it still hurt.

At ten that night, she found Flack alone, as usual, in the kitchen, writing feverishly on a yellow pad of paper, the light from the over head light making the white gold wedding band on his finger sparkle. She briefly wondered if he'd ever take it off.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked.

He simply gestured to the empty chairs.

"Wanna beer or anything?"

"Thought you were trying to keep me from being an alcoholic?" he laughed.

She got one for each of them and joined him at the table. "What'cha doing?" she asked.

"I have to go back to work next week."

"I know. And...?"

"Its my last will and testament."

She shivered. "That's eerie, Flack."

"Just in case." he reasoned. "Sam was the executor of my estate and the beneficiary and she's gone now and if anything happens to me, I wanna make sure my kids are taken care of."

"Good idea. So what...?"

"I left everything to the kids obviously. If Kieran is eighteen, then he came be the executor and beneficiary. If he's not, I wrote that you and Rick are to keep everything in trust for him until he's old enough. Can you do that?"

"I can."

"I need to know that if they're still little and something happens, that they won't be separated. They stay together."

"Rick and I will take them. You have my word."

Flack smiled. "Thanks."

She nodded and reached for another piece of paper. "And this?"

"That's what I'm planning on reading at the funeral."

She silently scanned through the writing on the page and felt tears sting her eyes. "That's beautiful, Flack." she said and sat the paper down.

"I am a constant study in contradiction." he declared.

"Its what she loved most about you. You weren't always homicide detective. You were just Don."

"She use to love it when I got all cop on her." he teased.

"Okay, lets leave that thought in your head!" Carmen laughed.

"You know what I loved most about her?"

"Flack..."

"Other than that."

She watched him and waited.

"The way she looked at me each and every day with love and respect. And the way I looked at her and she took my breath away."

Carmen smiled and reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

"I love her." he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I know. And you have all those memories in your heart and no one can take them away."

He nodded and managed a small smile. "An entire lifetime of them." and then he went back to his writing and was lost in those memories once again.

**Sorry smut lovers. Gotta wait a little longer!**


	23. Chapter 23

**WARNING: RATED A STRONG M**

**THIS IS NOTHING BUT PURE SMUT FOLKS. WHY? BECAUSE I CAN**

**Hot showers, ice cubes and Danny**

"Something I can't define

but your eyes tell the story

when my love fills you up you'll never come down

baby you're gonna love what I do

when I'm on top of you."

-On Top of You, Enrique Iglesias

* * *

They shared what seemed liked hours of hot, long, deep kisses, the warm water beating down on their needy bodies. He teased her mercilessly. Lathering her up painfully slowly and rinsing her off even more so, his large, strong hands paying extra special attention to her full, soft breasts, feeling her shiver beneath his touch, hearing her moan as he kneaded and tweaked her nipples into achingly hard erectness. Smiling with satisfaction and lust at the way she whimpered in anticipation when his tongue swirled around her nipples.

"Please..." she moaned, pleading. "Please..."

He took the nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. She moaned even louder and grabbed at his hair with one hand and moved one of his between her legs with the other.

"You're impatient." Flack said, moving to the other breast. She was warm and supple in his rough hands and she tasted so good.

"Just... stop teasing me..."

"Makes up for all the times you do it to me." he said, using the tip of his tongue to toy with her nipple.

"Stop... okay? Just stop and do it..."

"Do what?" he asked innocently.

"Fuck, Don! You all ready know!"

"What? You mean this?" he ran his hand over her ass and around over her hip and between her eagerly parted legs, slipping two fingers inside of her.

"Shit!" she shrieked at the sudden, rough gesture. Then moaned and sighed and closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the shower wall as he moved his fingers in and out of her at a fast, deep pace.

"Or do you mean like this?" he asked as he put a third finger inside of her, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She bit back a scream and whimpered and clutched at his shoulders. She said his name repeatedly, quickly and effortlessly nearing orgasm until he suddenly stopped and laid his hands on her shoulders and turned around.

He opened her legs with his knee. "Bend over." he instructed. "Bend over and put your hands on the wall."

"What?"

"You like rough? You want me to go all cop on you as you call it? Bend over."

"Don... what?"

"I said bend over." he roughly pushed her over by her shoulders, reached between he legs and fingered her again before guiding himself into her hot, tight opening. He moaned a loud at the sensation of entering her. "You are so beautiful." he said, kissing her shoulders and all the way down her spine, running his hands over her ass. He grasped her by the hips and pulled out and then slammed back into her again.

She screamed in ecstasty. Her eyes closed. Head hung forward.

"You want it rough, Samantha? I'm your man. You want it nice and slow, I'm your man for that, too. All you have to do is tell me what you want."

"I just..." she gasped, clutched vainly at the wall of the shower. "I want..."

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. "I can't hear you." he told her. "What did you say?"

"I said I want you to fuck me all ready. Flack!" she yelled at him.

With one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, he gave her what she wanted. What they both wanted. Pounding into her fast and hard.

"You like it rough, don't you/You like me you treat you like a dirty little bitch. Fuck you until you cant walk properly. You're into that kind of shit, huh?"

She was too busy moaning and crying out to answer.

"I'm gonna fuck you until you forget every guy that you were ever with before me. Until it fucking hurts..."

"Then do it all ready..." she ground out.

"You are a dirty little bitch." he told her. "You just remember that you're my bitch.No one elses." he bent down and sucked roughly at the sensitive skin at the back of her neck and rammed into her as hard and as fast as he could. "Fuck..." he panted. "You feel so good... you're so fucking tight and so wet and you feel so good."

Flack reached around her to rub at her clit with hard, rapid circles with one hand, grabbing her swaying breast with the other and kneading and pinching the nipple.

She cried out. Tightened her inner muscles around him, causing him to moan loudly into the back of her neck. He thrust through that unbelievable tightness and continued the stroking of her clit.

"Fuck... Flack... you're going to make me come..." she gasped.

"That's the whole point." he punctuated every word with a hard thrust and rubbed frantically at her swollen clit.

Her orgasm was all consuming and powerful. She screamed his name over and over again, threw her head back. He grabbed her hips hard enough to leave bruises on the pale sensitive skin and continued to pound into her relentlessly, feeling the pressure building inside of him.

"I'm going to come..." he said and felt her muscles tighten around him, sending him over the edge, and he buried his face in the back of her neck, uttering curse words and moaning her name as he came powerfuly inside of her. It seemed as if he'd never stop coming. he rested his forehead against her back, his eyes closed and his chest heaving. Trying to compose himself.

When his heart rate calmed bit and his legs stopped shaking, he kissed a path down her spine and then straightened and pulled out of her slowly.

Samantha stood up, her own legs trembling, her hands still on the wall for balance.

"You okay?" he asked, kissing her shoulder.

She nodded.

"Did I hurt you?"

"A little." she admitted.

He frowned. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"It's okay." she assured him. "I liked it. A lot. A little hurt is okay."

"You know, you've got a potty mouth on you. And you sound like a porn star. Does wonders for my ego."

She laughed and turned around. "That was amazing." she declared.

"You were amazing." he told her and kissed her. "Can you do me favor next time, though/"

She nodded.

"Ya mind not calling me by my last name in the middle of things? Too impersonal."

"What's so personal about fucking someone against a shower wall?" she asked

"True... I'd rather ya stick to my first name, though. Okay?"

"Okay." she agreed and he kissed her long and soft.

"I love you." he said.

"Do you?"

He nodded.

"Can you say that honestly? In your heart of hearts?"

"I can. With everything I am and everything I have."

She smiled.

"Don't leave me hanging here, Samantha."

"You know I do."

"I want to hear you say it. I want you to look me in the eye and say it."

She leaned into him and looked up at him. "I love you, too." she said.

He kissed her again. "Good... now can I finish my shower?"

She smiled and nodded. "I'm starving." she announced.

He laughed. "That is such a guy thing. Being hungry after sex."

"Well I am not a guy." she said and washed the area of his scar gently. "I am one hundred percent woman."

He kissed her forehead. "Yes, you are. And I'm gonna feed you as soon as we got out of her. You're going to need your energy."

* * *

An hour and a half later they were on the couch. She sat at one end in his shirt, her back against the arm of the couch, her feet in his lap as he sat at the other end in a pair of faded baggy jeans and a t-shirt. She ate chicken chow mein with chop sticks and sipped a huge plastic glass of pepsi and ice cubes while he drank beer and worked on a plate of steaming chinese food.

"Good?" he asked.

She giggled around a mouthful of food. "So good..." she enthused

"I am so glad you're not one of those that only eat salad and vegetables."

"I'll have a salad," she said. "and then I'll drown it in dressing, And I've got nothing against veggies. I just like meat more. Growing up, I was surrounded by carnivores. And I love to eat. You live in Clint's house growing up, you learn to love your food. A lot."

"So explain to me why you're so small."

She shrugged. "Fast metabolism I guess. All the ass I kick in my job helps. And in case you haven't noticed, my ass and my boobs are not small."

"I've noticed." he assured her. "I just spent a half an hour looking at your ass, remember?"

"I figured you for an ass man the moment I met you." she said.

"I'm more of a something else man." he told her.

"What's that?"

He cast a glance at her crotch.

"You are a dirty minded perv!" she said and dug her toes into his crotch.

"Hey, you asked. And quit doing that with your foot. Its distracting."

"It's suppose to be. It's only a baseball game. I thought you were suppose to be this big time Rangers fan?"

"I am. Just its baseball season so I watch the Mets. I'm from Queens. Gotta be a Mets fan when you're from Queens."

"When's the last time they actually won anything?" she asked.

"Do not tell me you're a Yankees fan."

"The Yankees? The evil empire?" she laughed. "Don't insult my intelligence. Only thing I like about the Yankees is the fact that Jeter and A-Rod are so goddamn hot. I'm a Toronto fan."

Flack nearly choked on a mouthfl of beer. "Toronto? That's even worse!"

"Do I need to remind you that they won the World Series two years in a row?"

"And they've sucked since. Next thing you'll be telling me is that you're an Islanders fan."

"New Jersey." she said.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Flack exclaimed. "How does a girl from Brooklyn like a team from New Jersey?"

"Because the Rangers and the Islanders both suck shit." she reasoned.

He narrowed his eyes. "Remind me to spank your ass later."

She arched an eyebrow and ran her foot from his knee to his crotch. "Promise?"

"And you call me a dirty minded perv... would you stop doing that with your foot!"

"What? You mean this?" she rubbed the inside of his thigh with her toes.

"No. I mean.. that!" he exclaimed as she dug her foot roughly into his crotch and then stroked softly.

"You prefer the Mets over foreplay?" she asked. "Typical man." she sat her food on the coffee table and sipped her Pepsi and then took out an ice cube, sucking and licking at it.

Flack shook his head and sighed.

"What? I can't even eat an ice cube without you turning it into something dirty?" she inquired. "Were you sexually deprived before i came along or something? Your little rich girlfriend not put out or what?"

"She did. But its the quality, not the quantity. And I'm not the type to go out looking for random sex. And if I was, look at the hours I work. Who has the time?"

"There's always time." she declared. "Like right now, you could be getting some."

"You said you were hungry!"

"I'm full now."

"Ask me, you're the sexually deprived one. What happened? Psycho stalker boy didn't put out?"

"If you call five minutes and only worrying about himself putting out."

"What a goddamn fool. No one ever told him getting the girl off is the whole poit to the thing?"

"Apparently not."

"Well lucky for you, I am an equally opportunity pervert." Flack told her.

"Yeah? Well right now I don't see you being an equal opportunity anything." she rubbed his crotch with her foot again.

"You know what?" he turned off the t.v. and tossed the converter and his empty plate aside. "Give me that goddamn ice cube." he snatched it from her fingers. "You wanna play games? Tease people? You like that sort of thing?"

She just smiled.

He grabbed her by the hips and yanked her towards him so that she was flat on her back, then took her by the ankle and skimmed the ice cube over the top of her foot. She squealed at the shock of the cold and tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip on her foot.

"Relax." he told her. "Okay?"

"You've got a foot fetish now?"

"Ya got cute little girl feet. But I ain't into sucking toes or anything like that so take it easy. Why? Do you?"

"If you even dare suck on my toes I will throw up all over the place. That is plain gross."

"Well I don't want that. You gonna relax or what?"

She nodded.

"You trust me?"

"Shit.. I don't know if I like the sound of that."

"Do you trust me? I won't do anything you don't want me to do. You don't feel comfortable, you tell me to stop. Okay?"

"I trust you." she said.

He ran the ice cube along the inside of her leg, then around to the back.

"Just relax. If you relax it won't bother you as much."

"It's cold! It's cold and I'm hot and..." she couldn't finish as he had the ice cube at the back of her knee, then licked away the moisture left behind.

"One of your secret spots, huh?" he smiled. "How many more do you have?"

"That's for you to have fun when you try and figure that out and find them."

The sensation was far more amazing then she ever thought possible. Her body quickly responding when he followed behind the ice cube with his lips and his tongue. He ran the cube along the inside of her thigh. Her breathing becoming more and more rapid, her eyes closing, biting her lip. He continued with the ice cube until he got between her legs and slid it along the length of her clit. She gasped loudly and arched her back. Then moaned when he replaced the coldness with the heat of his tongue.

"Oh God..." she groaned and grapped at his hair. "Don..."

He licked slow, lazy circles around her clit then became more firm and insistent directly on it. He found himself completely turned on by all the loud, uninhibited noises she was making and the way her body was responding. She was pushing frantically at his head, urging him to continue and he gave her what she wanted. Licking and sucking until she was writhing beneath him and close to completion. Then he abruptly stopped.

"What are you doing?" she nearly wailed.

"This is my game, remember? You just lie there and be nice."

"You are a bastard!"

"Want me to stop?"

She shook her head.

"Didn't think so."

He tossed the nearly melted ice cube aside and grabbed another one, then unbuttoned her shirt and laid it open.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are." he said and kissed her. "I've honestly never seen a body this off the hook before." he kissed her again. "You good?"

"Mm-hm." she simply replied.

Flack ran the ice cube in a circle around her navel, then sucked at the ring there. The ice passed over her stomach and higher to the space between her breasts and then over one and around the nipple before taking it firmly into his mouth.

She was panting, mumbling incoherently, gripping his hair. He moved to the other breast, repeated every movement with the ice cue, then slid it up her neck following behind with his tongue. Along the underside of her chin and up to her lips. He kissed her. hard and smouldering.

She opened her eyes and smiled.

He smiled back and popped the ice cube in his mouth and crunched down on it. "Game over." he said

"I liked that game." she sighed.

"I could tell."

They kissed. Alternating between long, hard kisses and soft, undemanding ones.

"You have an unfair clothes advantage." she said.

"More like a disadvantage if you ask me."

"Well maybe we should do something about that. In a bed. Like normal people."

"Personally, I like up against a wall."

"Do you do anything normally?" she asked.

"Nope. But for you, I'll attempt to make it to the bedroom."

They didn't get that far. A few feet down the hall and that was it. As they kissed she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and let them fall to the floor, pushinf his boxers down to release his erection. He reached between her legs to rub at her clit, stimulate her a bit, and found her soaking wet with desire.

"Fuck me now." she demanded.

He grabbed her and lifted her off her feet and pinned her to the wall. She cried out as he entered her with one strong, hard thrust.

"Put your legs around my waist." he instructed, helping her out with that. He pounded into her with long, hard thrusts she could feel through her entire body.

Her moans were getting louder and more insistent. Her nails were raking painfully across his shoulder and down his back. He could feel her tightening around him as he thrust as hard and as fast as he could, his own release drawing nearer with the louder her noises of pleasure became. He reached between them to find her clit and he heard her scream his name, her body shuddering as he felt her inner muscles contracting around his cock, sending him quickly and powerfully over the edge as well. She bit down on the space between his neck and shoulder. Hard enough to break the skin.

They stayed like that until they both caught their breath. Flack still supporting her weight with his arms. Then slowly withdrew from her and set her back down on the floor.

"I think you woke my neighbours up." he teased.

"Fuck the neighbours. If they had orgasms like that, they'd understand."

He kissed her. "You're incredible. Even I need to lie down after that."

"I wear you out, huh? You are getting old."

"I just need to get my second wind." he said.

"Second wind? You are deprived."

"Cram all the months of no sex into one night." he figured. "Come on... like you're not game."

"How about we go and lie down and see if you can put your money where your mouth is in a little while."

"Are you a sex maniac?" he asked.

"You can turn me into one." she replied.

"I'm a good teacher."

She smiled. "I noticed."

* * *

Two hours later they lay together in his rumpled bed. He had put his money where his mouth was . It had been slow and tender and attentive. Looking deep into each others eyes and whispering soft, loving words in her ear.

The back of her neck was soft and smelled of lavender. They lay on their sides, her bottom tucked into his pelvis, holding her in his arms and smoothing the undersides of her breasts. He decided that he never wanted to face a night in that bed without her.

Warm and soft she turned to face him and hold him. In the darkness he saw the glitter in her eyes. He kissed her, leisurely and explorative.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Grateful." she said and then giggled. "I did not mean that the way it sounded."

"You didn't?"

She thought about it. "Yeah... I did."

"Me, too." he said.

A cell phone rang. His. He glanced over at it sitting on the night stand. He wasn't on call and it was nearly three in the morning. Thank God they started nights tomorrow.

"Don't answer it." she whispered against his lips, then circled his neck with her arms and pulled him closer and thrust her tongue into his mouth aggressively.

"I wasn't planning on answering." he said, relieved when the phone stopped ringing. He kissed her hungrily. "Don't you ever get tired?" he asked, lips against her neck.

"I'm too horny to be tired." she replied.

He laughed against her neck, rolled over onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Buried his hands in her hair as they kissed. Holding her head firmly as he kissed and licked at her ear.

She sighed when he hit a good spot. "Donnie..." she moaned his name quietly.

"Hmm?" his lips were against the hallow of her throat. His finger tips skimmed along her spine before settling on her ass and squeezing it.

"Make love to me again." she said.

"You're going to give me a heart attack." he said with a smile. He reached over for a condom package between the pillows.

She kissed his ears and his neck, her hands slipped down his chest and her lips followed. Then moved back up again.

"God you're good at that." he said and groaned when her hand enclosed around his erection and she licked and sucked at his neck.

"I'm good at a lot of things." she informed him and took the condom from him.

"Especially... that!" he groaned loudly and gripped her ass and her thigh as she ran a finger nail along the underside of his cock and then stroked the tip with her thumb. "You've got some seriously magic hands." he told her.

She smiled and stroked him firmly, her lips finding his ear.

"Jesus..." he gasped. "Keep doing that and this will end sooner than we both want it to."

"That would be a shame." she said and sat up and ripped open the package. "I'm in charge now." she announced.

"Whatever you want, baby." he said. "Whatever."

She grinned devilishly and rolled the condom onto him. "In that case." she said, straddled him and came down on him hard.

"Shit!" he practically screamed. "Why you gotta be like that?"

"Because you like it." she said. "You like it when I abuse you. Admit it."

"How the hell do I let a woman a quarter of my size abuse me?"

"Because you love me." she said.

It was the truth.

She rode him slow and steady at first. Then harder and faster, her hands gripping the head board so hard her knuckles turned white. His hands gripped her ass and her thighs and he suckled at her breasts as he tensed to come. When she came, she screamed his name and tightened around him, the clenching of her kegel muscles causing him to explode as well. A loud moan muffled by her lips over his. He nearly screamed when she bit down on his lip had enough to make it bleed.

She fell limp on top of him, loving it when he put his arms around her and clenched her tight into his chest as he shuddred for a long while afterwards. Their hearts popunded, their breathing was ragged. Eventually she sat up and kissed him softly.

"Are you alive?" she asked.

"Barely."

"Want me to call the ME and tell them to sit up a table for you?"

"I'll be okay... I think..." he opened his eyes, put a hand to his lip. "You're vicious for a little thing." he said.

"You like it." she said in return.

She kissed him and slowly climbed off of him. He slipped out of bed and went to dispose of the condom and climb back into his boxers. She put the shirt back on and they cuddled under the covers. Her face against his chest, his hand on her back. She had just begun to doze off when the phone rang again.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"Ten after three. Go to sleep." he grabbed his phone.

"I thought you weren't on call."

"I'm not." he checked the call display. "Danny." he said.

"Must be important." she yawned.

Flack pressed talk. "Messer? What kind of shit do I have to bail you out of this time?"

"You in bed?" Danny asked.

"Its three in the morning." Flack replied.

"Just figured with us going on nights you might still be up. Where's Sam?"

"She's sleeping."

"Beside you? In the same bed?"

"Danny... what do you want?"

"Just wanted to talk." he replied.

"At three in the morning? It can't wait until later? What the hell is so important you have to call me at three in the morning?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Count fucking sheep! Hope you didn't call here looking for phone sex 'cause I'm too busy getting the real thing."

"She can share."

"Something tells me that Sam does not share well with others." Flack said.

"No sharing." she said beside him. "And tell Danny if he wants that kind of thing to come over here and we'll all have fun."

"You're disturbed." Flack told her. "Go to sleep. This better be good Danny."

"Met a girl tonight."

"Good for you. Goodbye."

"Flack! Wait!"

"Danny...I need sleep."

"Sleep all day tomorrow." Danny said and told him all about Erica. Finishing off that she was Sam's cousin.

"I'll pass that on." Flack said. "Can I hang up now?"

"Lindsay's here."

"What do you mean Lindsay's there?"

Sam's head popped up from under the covers. "She's where?"

"I got home and she was sitting in front of my door." Danny explained. "Bawling and carrying on about how no one likes her. She'd been there for hours waiting for me and I couldn't turn her away."

"Why not?" Flack asked.

"I'm not like you." Danny replied.

Flack decided to let that comment go. "Please tell me you didn't..."

"No. She's in the bed. I'm on the couch."

"Ask him if he wants me to come over and kick her ass." Sam commented.

"Would you go to sleep?" Flack said and pulled the cover over her head. "Kick her ass out, Messer."

"I can't."

"Well then I'll come over and do it for you."

"How do I get rid of her Flack?"

"You go in there and drag her ass out of bed and toss her out the door."

Danny sighed.

"Look, as much as I'd love to stay up and chat all night, I'm beat." Flack said. "Now that she's done abusing me and using me she's letting me take it easy."

Sam giggled under the sheets.

"You're a lucky bastard, Flack." Danny declared.

Flack picked up the corner of the sheet and peered under neath. "Yeah..." he agreed, smiling at her. "I'm pretty lucky."

She smiled sleepily up at him.

"Didn't mean to interrupt your hot kinky sex." Danny said.

"You didn't. You caught the aftermath."

"Whatever, Flack. Fuck you. See ya." Danny hung up.

"What was that all about?" Sam yawned, squirming out from under the covers.

"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow." he told her, tossing his phone back onto the night stand. "Get some sleep, baby." he kissed her and lay down on his side, facing her with his hand on her back.

"Don't forget to make me breakfast." she said.

"We're on nights. What if we don't get up until the afternoon?"

"I still have to eat." she reasoned.

"I will make you breakfast." he promised her. "I love you." he said. No three words had ever sounded so good. Or felt so good.

"I love you more." she said with a little giggle.

He kissed her and held her until she fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

His life and his heart had never felt so full.


	24. Chapter 24

**Banana Pancakes**

"When I've shown you that I just don't care

when I'm throwing punches in the air

when I'm broken down and I can't stand

will you be strong enough to be my man?"

-Strong Enough, Sheryl Crow

* * *

Rain hammered New York City relentlessly. Wind whipped through the streets and rattled windows and threatened to strip the trees bare. Thunder rumbled in the distance as lightning split the dreary, dark grey foreboding sky. A stark contrast from the blazing sun and disgustingly humid, choking heat that had been plaguing the city for the last two weeks. Forecasters were predicting heavy thundershowers and strong winds for the next twelve to twenty four hours. Advising people to stay away from rivers and streams in fears of flash floods. Central Park was all ready a wading pool of wet and muck and many curbs were inches deep. Tempers among drivers and pedestrians alike were extremely short, which, in the city that never sleeps, wasn't an uncommon thing, but the weather related traffic slow downs and closures had people on edge.

None of that mattered to Flack. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was the warm, inviting body that was sleeping tucked into his side. Nothing existed outside of that room. His thoughts far away from crime scenes and perps and most importantly, from that twisted bastard Zack Turner, who, he'd hoped had had the worst night of his life down in Central lock up. Once the other perps found out he was a cop, they'd torment him endlessly. Something he deserved. He deserved a lot worse. A hell of a lot worse. But Flack didn't want that name or the thoughts of what that man was actually capable of ruining the happiness that had been alluding him for years.

His eyes snapped open and had to adjust to the lingering darkness in room. A dull, depressing grey that had him wondering if they'd actually slept well into the afternoon and into the early evening. He rolled over and fumbled for his watch on the nightstand. His movements caused Samantha to stir momentarily. She mumbled in her sleep and rolled over onto her opposite side, her back towards him and taking all the covers with her. Wrapping herself up in a tight cocoon and leaving him to freeze his ass off in the chill of the air conditioning.

A quick check of his watch told him it was only quarter to eleven. He yawned noisily and reached for the covers. Attempting to steal some back for himself.

"No." she said and only tightened the blankets around her some more.

"Sam... come on... its freezing in here..."

"I know." she said and didn't budge an inch.

"Baby... don't be such a bitch..." he complained and tried to yank some blankets off of her.

"Just for that you can freeze." she declared and rolled over onto her stomach.

"Come on. Be nice." he leaned over her and peeled enough blanket away to reveal a small slice of skin on her left shoulder. He pressed a soft, warm kiss to that spot. "You'd be pissed if I froze to death and I wasn't any good to you anymore." he moved more blanket out of the way and kissed every spot he uncovered. The spot between her shoulder blades was extra sensitive and he heard her sigh into her pillow.

"True." she agreed, voice muffled.

He pushed her hair away from the back of her neck with gentle finger tips. "I gave you a huge hickey right here." he said and licked and sucked at the exact place.

She sighed again.

He moved his lips to the side of her neck and licked and sucked at the spot below her ear before gently biting it.

"Okay! I give!" she exclaimed, flopping over onto her back and loosening the covers. "You can have some blankets!"

He grinned, picked up the blankets and wrapped them around his shoulders and leaned down to kiss her.

She circled his neck with her arms and kissed him back, nearly pulling him down on top of her until he had the right mind to put a hand down on the mattress to spare her his weight. They kissed long and soft at first, then more demanding and possessive when his tongue pushed its way into her warm, moist mouth.

She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, trailed her other hand along his smooth, strong shoulder and down his arm. Loving the way his skin and his muscles felt under her fingers. Sighing and closing her eyes and gripping his forearm when his lips travelled to her neck.

"Why do you do this to me?" she asked quietly. "Make me feel this way?"

"How would you know I loved you if I didn't?" he replied, slipping his free hand over her silky thigh.

"Good answer." she said with a smile.

He ran his hand over her thigh and onto her hip, slipping his hand between her body and the mattress to get to her ass.

"You have such an ass fetish." Sam giggled, feeling his fingers massaging her skin.

"I have a you fetish. Your ass just comes with the package."

"You are just saying all the right things this morning." she said, scraping her fingers along his scalp as his lips travelled up her neck and underneath her chin.

"'Cause they're true." Flack told her, and ran his tongue from under her chin to her lips.

"What about doing all the right things?" she asked, eyes full of desire.

"All you have to do is ask."

She smiled and raised her head and whispered in his ear, then licked her way around the edge of it before settling back against the pillow. "Think you can do that?" she asked. "Can you handle that, Detective Flack?"

"Question is, can you handle it?"

She grinned from ear to ear. "Get to work."

* * *

Their love making had been slow and intense. Taking their time. Enjoying each other in every sense of the word. Pleasuring each other with hands and mouths before he sank into her warm, welcoming body and looked deep into her eyes and revelled in the sound of his name escaping her lips.

Afterwards they both dozed. The rain drumming on the windows lulling them back to sleep. It was Samantha that woke him up, running her hand up and down his chest and kissing his collarbone.

He cracked an eye open to look at her. So beautiful with her hair all messed up and no make up. He reached out and laid a hand on the back of her head.

"Good morning." she chirped cheerfully. "Again."

He smiled. "I think it's more like afternoon." he said. "How are you so cheerful when you first get up?"

"I have a reason to be cheerful." she said and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You know, you're cute when you're asleep." she told him. "Not that you're not cute all the time or anything because personally I think you're pretty hot. But you look like a little boy when you're asleep."

"You were watching me sleep?"

"What's wrong with that?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong with it. I'm just...surprised... no one's ever done that before. Watched me sleep."

"Not that they've told you."

"I haven't had a lot of sleep overs with women. I usually do my business and leave or they leave."

"Has there been a lot of women?"

"I wouldn't say a lot. In my life? Fifteen at the most."

"You're practically a virgin! In this city that's a week for most guys."

He was combing his fingers through her silky hair, watching her face. She looked years younger than thirty, especially with those freckles across her nose. So sweet and innocent yet so stunningly sexy and alluring all at the same time.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, resting her chin on his collarbone.

"You been with a lot of guys?" he asked curiously.

"Besides you, only Zack." she answered honestly.

"Really?" he was more than a little surprised. "I just thought because you were so willing and into everything that I was doing and that you knew a lot yourself that you were more experienced than that. And I mean that with the utmost respect."

"I think its just because I trust you and I feel comfortable with you that I'm like that." she said, nuzzling the spot below his ear with her nose and then her lips.

"You have no idea how that makes me feel to hear you say that."

She smiled. "Good I hope."

"Very good." he assured her, kissing the top of her head.

She kissed his lips and then his cheek and nestled her face in the side of his neck, her hand resting lightly on his stomach. He stroked her hair with one hand, the finger tips of the other trailing softly down her arm and back up again, over and over.

"Its raining like hell outside." he eventually said.

"I know. The thunder woke me up. Nice soggy crime scenes tonight."

"What's the chances they'll all be indoors?" Flack wondered.

She laughed. "Slim to none. Its a Friday. All the crazies will be out in full force tonight. I will have to remember to wear my hip waders."

"Keeps raining like that, you'll need them. Did anyone tell you about the ark?"

"As in Noah?"

"Not the bible Noah. As in the dead guy we had once with an ark in his back yard."

"Get outta here."

"Would I make something like that up?"

"He had an ark, in his back yard?"

"Hand to God. Dead guy in the middle of his living room, shot in the chest, lying in all this money."

"Real money?"

"Turns out it was fake. But let me get to the good part. He looked like the real deal. Long scruffy beard and hair, all these religious quotes scribbled on the wall. We go in the backyard and no word of a lie, there is a life size ark right there in Far Rockaway. All kinds of animals inside and even some passengers."

"Yeah right." she laughed.

"Sam, I could not make this up. Old Noah was charging a hundred grand a couple to get on the ark for when the great flood came. A hundred grand for salvation. Nuts, I know. So anyway, he was a true firm believer but we find out in the end he was a con artist and it was his partner that killed him when she found out that the cash was fake and it was just a big old mess."

"Where'd the money come from?"

"This is the ironic part of the whole thing. One of the passengers bought a car at a police auction and they found the money stashed in the interior walls. We traced it back to the guy who made the phony bills. The passenger took finding the money as a sign, gave it to Noah. End of story."

"This city really is fucked up. And what was this with Danny meeting some girl last night?"

"I forgot about that. Danny met some girl who says she's your cousin. A nurse or something."

"Only cousin I have in the city is Erica and the last time I checked she was married."

"Hey, I only know what he said. And then his night went from good to really shitty when he got home and Monroe was bawling on his door step. He felt so bad for her 'nobody likes me' bullshit that she ended up staying the night."

"Separate beds I hope."

"That's what he said. He shoulda booted her ass out."

"Should have. But Danny just can't say no."

"He needs to grow a set if you ask me."

"True." Sam said and yawned.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. She with her head tucked into him and her fingers tracing lightly over the expanse of his scar and he smoothing down her hair. His hand drifted down and his fingertips trailed along her spine all the way to the small of her back.

She shivered. "Damn you." she cursed. "Every time you touch me..."

"That's a good thing." Flack said with a smile.

"Very good thing." she agreed.

His hand moved onto her arm and up to her shoulder and back down again before his fingers grazed the side of her breast.

"You're beautiful." he said into her hair.

She kissed his neck. "Baby?"

'"Yeah?"

"I'm starving."

"What do you want?" he asked.

"How good of a cook are you?"

"I can hold my own."

"Surprise me." she said and kissed him and sat up, holding the sheet over her chest.

"Suddenly your shy?" he teased and kissed along her collarbone.

"My body is far from perfect." she sighed.

"I love every inch of your body." he told her.

"I have a big ass and big boobs."

"Your boobs are perfect. And your ass... I can't say enough about your ass."

She smiled and let the cover drop as she held his face in her hands and kissed him. "Thank you." she said.

"For what?"

"Just thank you."

He smiled and got out of bed and into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

"By the way." she said. "Your back and your shoulders look like Freddy Kreuger attacked you."

"Never mind that. You should see the bite marks on my neck and the inside of my left thigh."

"All in a nights work." she said. "How do you think I feel? My ass is killing me from being slammed into a wall repeatedly."

He leaned over the bed and kissed her languidly. "You liked it." he informed her.

She smiled and he ran a hand over her face and left the room.

Samantha sighed and tossed herself back onto the rumpled sheets. She couldn't keep the smile off her face or her mind off of the last twelve hours. Not just the amazing, mind blowing sex or the more slow, intense times, but the way it felt when he held her, the way his body felt under her hands and her mouth. And the look in his eyes each and every time he told her he loved her. How she believed it with every ounce of her body.

I love him. So much it hurts. That it's scary. Yet I can't help myself or walk away. I don't want to walk away. I want to stay like this forever.

And that's the kind of thought that frightened her. To feel that way so quickly and powerfully. To have someone love her like that. Was it really possible to feel that way about someone?

Stop second guessing it and just go with it, she scolded herself. Go with what feels right.

He felt right. Along with everything that came with him.

* * *

"That smells good." she announced and wrapped her arms around him from behind, placing her head on his back.

"Banana pancakes." Flack informed her.

"Mmmm. I love pancakes. I've never had banana ones."

"My specialty." he told her.

"How many women have you made banana pancakes for Detective?" she asked, slipping her hands up the front of his shirt and rubbing his stomach.

"Two." he replied. "You..."

"And..."

"My mother."

She smiled and squeezed what she referred as his love handles. "Very,very good answer." she said.

"Its the truth. I would not lie to you."

"That's the first time you've mentioned your mother." she said and leaned against the counter beside him.

He eyed her from head to toe. Admiring her in his shirt and her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. "You are so fucking sexy." he said. "I could get used to this. You walking around in my clothes, me cooking you breakfast, sharing a bed with you every night."

"You wouldn't last twenty four hours with me." she said light heartedly. Hearing him talk like that made everything feel so overwhelming. She helped herself to a glass of orange juice on the counter. "You're changing the subject." she chastised

"I am?"

"You're good at that. I've noticed. If you don't want to talk about something you just slide into something else. It's a way of protecting yourself."

"Where'd you learn that? One of your CSI training manuals?" he teased.

"No... it's a coping mechanism. And I know it because I've become a pro at it. Or so many shrinks have told me."

"So your mom re-married when you were sixteen." Flack said. "Where's your real dad?"

"Oh no." she grinned over the rim of her glass. "I am not falling for that. I asked first. How about this? We play who had the more fucked up childhood for, let's see, a Benjamin."

"Hundred bucks?"

She nodded.

"Okay. My old man is a legend in the NYPD. Highest arrest record in history. Youngest ever to become Lieutenant. Single handily saved seven civilians during an armed heist of the federal reserve. I'd go on, but we'd be here all day."

"Okay... so he was a great cop. So? That isn't the be all and end all."

"He was a shitty human being. He used to drink constantly and drop all the bill money on bookies and beat the shit out of my mother until she was on the floor crawling like a wounded animal. He used to kick the shit out of me and my brother 'til I got over six feet and knocked the crap out of him."

"Did you two make up before he died?"

"Died? He's not dead."

She frowned. "When you spoke in past tense I just assumed..."

"My old man is very much alive. But to me, in all intents and purposes, he's very much dead."

"And your mom?"

"Still making the same lame ass excuses for him as she always did."

"I'm sorry... I didn't meant to upset you." she rubbed his back softly.

"I'm not upset at you. You had a right to ask. I'm just still pissed and bitter at him." Flack leaned against the counter beside her and sipped coffee while breakfast cooked. "You're turn."

She sighed. "My father used to beat me and Adam until he put us in the hospital. One time he beat me so bad he fractured m skull, my orbital bone and punctured my ear drum and doctors thought I wouldn't hear ever again out of that ear. Another time, he took a belt to us until we bled. He'd lock us in the root cellar or in a closet he'd done up with a dead bolt and leave us there for hours on end. He used to spend all the money for rent and groceries on drugs and booze. We lived in tenement housing that had more rats and cockroaches then people."

"Samantha..." Flack didn't know if he wanted to hear anything else.

"And on really good days," she continued. "He'd make us eat mouldy bread and spoiled me and we'd need to have our stomachs pumped. All that and not once did anyone call the police or child protective services. And when he died, it was the happiest day of my life." she finished the orange juice to rid her mouth of the horrible wretched taste the memories brought on. "And that's about it... wait, there was a time he stuck Adam's right leg in a tub of boiling water when he was two because my dad said he needed to be taught a lesson for spilling milk on the floor. Word of advice, never ask Adam why he doesn't wear shorts in the summer."

Hot tears spilled down her face. "And that is why I am the majorly fucked up person I am today." she said.

Flack had been staring at her the entire time as she spoke. In both shock and horror, wondering how in the hell she and Adam had ever survived. And the sight of those tears pouring down her face broke his heart. There were no words. None even came to mind. So he did the next best thing. Took her in his arms and held her as tight as he could, his hand clutching her head to his chest, the other hand on her back.

"It's okay." he said when she sobbed loudly into him, her arms around her waist. "It's okay..."

"We were just little kids!" she cried. "Adam was just a baby. I tried as hard as I could to protect him! We didn't deserve that!"

"No... you didn't..."

"Do you see why I am the way I am, Don? Do you?"

"Shhh... it's all right... everything is going to be all right."

She suddenly stiffened up and pushed him away. "I'm sorry." she said, wiping frantically at her eyes.

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"This is embarrassing. Getting like this."

"Why? Why are you embarrassed?"

"I don't do this." she said. "Break down like this. Not with anyone."

"I'm not just anyone." he said gently.

"Maybe I should go." she suggested. "Stop burdening you with all of this stuff."

"Samantha..." he caught her arm as she went to leave the room and pulled her towards him. "Listen to me." he held both her arms tight to her side and looked her dead in the eye. "I love you. You're not burdening me with anything. And I want you to trust me enough to talk about these things. There's no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed. And I don't want you to go anywhere."

"I just..." she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't talk about this anymore. Ever again. I need you to understand that. Please understand."

"I understand." he assured her. "I promise you that I'll never ask you about it again. Okay?" he kissed her softly. He let go of her arms and took her face in his hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs.

"I do love you." she said.

"I'm not doubting it. Are you?"

"No. For once, no."

He kissed her softy. "I think you should sit down and eat something." he said.

She nodded. "I think you owe me a hundred bucks." she said.

* * *

"I think I seriously need a new addiction." Sam grumbled as she feverishly erased the numbers in her Sudoko game book for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes.

She had started out using a pen until Flack had gently suggestesd to try a pencil when he saw how many mistakes she made and how frustrated she got.

It was a little after two in the afternoon. Ten hours until the beginning of their respective shifts. The rain continued to fall heavily and the wind howled. The radio was on and they sat on the couch, Flack with his legs out in front of him and his feet on the coffee table, going through the renters section in that day's Times. Doing her and Carmen's dirty work of finding a decent apartment. Sam sat sideways across the couch, legs stretched out, leaning back against him, her knees bent.

"I seriously think you need to stick to the beginner's puzzles." Flack said.

"This is the beginners." she admitted reluctantly. "Don't laugh!" she admonished and elbowed him when she felt him chuckle silently.

"I'm sorry. How does a woman with a masters and a b.a not know how to figure those things out?"

"I was never good with numbers." she said.

"You just preferred to shoot innocent little animals in your step dad's yard."

"Shut up! I never shot any animals!"

"Adam told me something about a grey squirrel that he felt so bad about he buried it and held a funeral for it in the front flower bed. "

"It wasn't on purpose!" she argued. "The damn thing got in the way of the bullet.'

Flack laughed. "Are you trying to tell me that a one pound squirrel just jumped out in front of a thirty three and you accidentally shot it?"

"Its what happened!" she insisted.

"Sure it was. You were probably the kid that tortured kittens and put puppies in microwaves."

"I was not!" she laughed and elbowed him again.

"Its always the tiny and shy ones that are psycho-pathic squirrel killers." he said.

"Shut up!" she laughed and he put his arm around her, laying across her collarbone and kissed the top of her head. She moved closer back towards him.

"I still love you even if you are a serial squirrel killer." he teased. "And can you tell me why I'm looking for your apartment?"

"I've been out of the city for a long time and you know what neighborhoods are decent." she reasoned.

He peered over her shoulder at the puzzle. "It'll work if you put the three there and the nine there and the seven there." he said, pointing each spot out.

"And how would you know, Donald?"

"Humor me."

She sighed and did as he suggested. It worked.

"Now, I don't want to gloat..."

"Then don't." she said.

He chuckled and tightened his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "Higher the education, less common sense." he declared.

"Do you ever want to have sex with me again?" she asked.

"Like you'd ever cut me off. You'd suffer more than I would."

She snorted. "Yeah. Right." she tossed the book and pencil onto the coffee table and reached for her mug of tea. "Anything good?" she asked, sipping the warm beverage.

"Twp bedrooms, two baths, hardwood, three appliances, twelve a month." he read.

"Where?"

"Brooklyn."

"Are you nuts? I am not moving back to Brooklyn." she declared.

"How about... two bedrooms, wall to wall carpeting, one and a half baths, three appliances, thirteen twenty five in Staten Island."

"That's worse than Brooklyn!" she exclaimed. "Anything in lower Manhattan?"

"Not if you two want to stay below two grand a month. Cheapest is a one bedroom at fifteen and change."

"Carmen and I can always sleep together." Sam reasoned.

"If that's the case," Flack said. "I want pictures."

"You wish."

"Here's on in lower Manhattan." he said. "Two bedrooms, one and a half baths, hardwood, cove ceilings, blah blah,blah... twenty two and a bit a month."

"Circle that!" she exclaimed excitedly. "I'll just get you to pay my share of the rent and I'll save my money for purses and shoes."

"In that case, you may as well live here for free."

"Don... you're going to that serious, scary place again." she told him.

"You're right. Too early to be talking like that. You know, you could just be a room mate."

"A room mate with benefits? I don't think so."

"All I'm saying is that if you need a place..."

"I know. And you know that I appreciate it and if we were three or four months into this relationship..."

"I know. I'm just saying."

"I know what you're saying and I love you for it." she tipped her head back to look at him.

He looked down at her and smiled and kissed her softly. He sighed heavily and tossed the paper and pen on the coffee table. "I did the hard work. Up to you two to do the rest. It's a scary thing. You and Devine moving in together." he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch.

"She's amazing." Sam said. "Funny, massively intelligent, beautiful. You think there's something going on with her and Speed?"

"They just met." Flack reminded her.

"Excuse me? What do you call me and you?"

"True... I feel sorry for him if there is."

"Why?" she asked.

"He's got his work cut out for him." Flack replied.

"Boy, that sounds familiar." she laughed.

"You can be a bitch." he agreed.

"You love it." she declared.

He smiled. "I do." he admitted.

"Face it, Don Flack. If I was gone, you'd miss me."

"You have no idea." he said.

**Aphina: I agree. Danny needs to grow a set and fast!**

**Madison Bellows: welcome back! There's more sappy, undying love to come!**

**laplangurl: hope you found that ice cold shower!**

**Mauveine: glad you enjoyed and there's much more to come!**

**Bluehaven4220: Carmen and Don have a deep bond and it will become more so. In a brother/sister way.**

**jayfray: hope the shower helped! LOL!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Digging through the trash and untangling the wood: Part One**

"We write our prayers on a little bomb

kiss it on the face and send it to God."

-The Death Song, Marilyn Manson

* * *

Carmen sank onto the bench in front of the row of lockers and vigorously towel dried her hair. She'd already shed her soaking wet clothes for dry ones and swapped her squeaky soaked runners in favor of a comfy pair of loafers.

Knew I should have taken a cab from the subway station, she thought, bending at the waist and wrapping her hair in a tight turban. Wouldn't be looking like a drowned rat if I had have.

The locker room door squeaked open and she glanced over to see Sam breezing in, a bright smile on her face despite the fact that it was coming down in buckets, thunder was practically shaking the building and the power kept flickering on an off. Not to mention she was drenched from head to toe and her shoes were squealing as she came across the tile flooring.

"Hey." Carmen greeted. "Hell of a day, huh? Good to see you didn't step in a gutter. You're so tiny you'd drown in it."

Sam grinned. All her life she'd graciously accepted the good natured jabs at her less than normal height. She stepped up to her locker, twirled the combination lock on it.

"What happened? I thought you'd get a ride in? Did Flack get called in early?"

"No. But there were no parking spots underground so we had to park on the street. This is all jut from walking from the car to the building." she popped open her locker and took out a towel and some fresh clothes and toed off her shoes and yanked off her socks.

Carmen noticed the way her friend grimaced if she moved to quickly and how she sat down very slowly. "Awww..." Carmen teased her friend. "What happened, sweetie? Did the big, bad homicide detective get too rough with you last night?"

Samantha just grinned and peeled off her wet top and towelled herself off.

"Guess you don't need these anymore." Carmen held up a brown paper bag of donuts.

"You kidding? I will always need those. They're my crutch."

Carmen spied something on the back of Sam's neck when the latter began drying her hair. She reached over and pushed Sam's hair out of the way and spied the large deep red hickey. "Fuck! You two abused each other!"

"He has no complaints." Sam said with a content sigh. "He is downstairs at his desk, happy and satisfied and in an extremely good mood this evening."

"Judging by your goofy smile, I'd say you're pretty damn satisfied yourself."

"Carm, there are no words. Where were you last night? I tried calling and got no answer. "

"You took time out of having wild, hot sex to call me?"

"He needed a break. I couldn't be to demanding."

"I went out for coffee." Carmen told her.

"Alone?"

Carmen didn't answer. She stood up and clipped her badge and gun to her pants.

Sam pulled dry shirt over her head and slipped into the cargo pants, buttoning and zipping them as she stood. She put on a pair of Doc Marten boots and as she bent over to tie them, she noticed something hanging in Carmen's locker. She reached in and puled out the familiar jacket. "Why do you have Tim Speedle's jacket?" she asked curiously.

"No reason." Carmen snatched the jacket back and hung up once agian and closed her locker.

"You went out to coffee with Tim? How'd that come about?"

"He asked and I said yes."

Sam put her foot on the bench and tightly laced her boot. "And?"

"And what?"

"And how'd you end up with his jacket?"

"I got cold." Carmen answered simply.

"Cold? It was eighty degrees last night. Oh my God... did you guys?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Samantha. You were the only one having having rough, kinky sex last night."

"I wouldn't say it was kinky. Mind you, the part with the ice cube was intense."

"I don't wanna hear it! Unlike you, I'm still sexually frustrated."

"Did you hear? Mac has me set up with a psychologist."

"When's that start?"

"When we get back on days Wednesday. Apparently, her name is Gus and she's originally from New Orleans and she's Mac's niece on his wife's side. She sounds great. I hope I like her. And vice versa. I'm not good with counselling sessions."

"You'll be fine." Carmen assured her as they left the locker room, Sam putting on her badge and gun as they went.

There was fifteen minutes before their shift began and they decided to head for the break room and grab a tea and have their donuts. They found Lindsay in there. Alone at one of the tables, looking forlorn and dipping her tea bag in and out over and over again. Sam decided to head over.

"Sam..." Carmen warned as she went to make the tea, and listen in at respectful distance. "You be nice."

Sam gave her friend a reassuring smile and slipped into teh chair across from Lindsay. "Hey, Monroe." she greeted.

Lindsay stared accross the table in a mixture of surprise and apprehension. "Uh... hey..."

"Look," Sam began. "I know we don't each other and all that..."

"It's not that I don't like you." Lindsay quickly corrected. "It's just that I'm threatened by you."

"And I'm threatened by people who talk shit about me behind my back. But for the sake of the team and this lab, we might as well attempt to get along. I'm actually a pretty easy going, nice person. I just don't like people talking a lot of shit. And you've been doing a lot of that."

Lindsay nodded solemnly.

"I'll be nice if you will." Sam said. "Especially when we have to go to this joint counselling thing next week. Might as well go in positive, right?"

"Right." Lindsay agreed, a little more cheerfully.

"Just do me a huge favor. Keep your mouth off of me . And my brother. Especially my brother."

"Okay." Lindsay nodded.

Carmen gave Sam a look that clearly meant she thought her friend was off her rocker and brought the tea and donuts over. "Sam," she said as she sat. "That must have been really, really, really amazing sex."

Sam smiled and bit into her donut.

Lindsay perked her ears and widened her eyes in interest.

"What did she just warn you about, Monroe?" Carmen asked, finding the girl from Montana a little too interested.

"I just want to be part of the girl talk." Lindsay reasoned. "That's it. Feel like I'm part of it. It's fun. Up until you guys there's been no one here to have these talks with."

Carmen looked skeptical at first. But the other girl seemed so innocent and convincing in her explanation, that it was easy to be fooled. "Sam was used and abused by a certain detective last night. A couple times in fact."

"A few." Sam corrected.

Carmen narrowed her eyes over her mug. "You are a dirty, dirty girl. Bitch."

"So you and Flack, huh?" Lindsay commented more than inquired.

"That was established a while ago." Carmen said. "In fact, was it not you, Monroe that started it? So don't seem so surprised."

"And Carmen went out with Speed." Sam said.

"Just coffee." Carmen added quickly. "That's it. I swear on my mother."

Sam arched an eyebrow.

"Spread some of that sex around would you." Carmen told her.

"I had it last night, too." Lindsay spoke up.

"With who?" Carmen asked.

"Danny."

Sam nearly choked on a mouthful of tea. "That's weird." she said. "'Cause Danny phoned Don last night at three in the morning and said something entirely different."

"It happened afterwards." Lindsay explained.

Danny, grow some fucking balls, Sam thought.

"Am I the only one not getting any?" Carmen asked grumpily.

"Just say the word, girl." Sam enthused. "I doubt he'll say no. He's a man. When do they ever say no?" she checked her watch and frowned. "Shit! We were suppose to be in Mac's office five minutes ago for team briefing!"

"Remember Monroe." Carmen warned as they three jumped up and hurried out. "This stuff does not leave this room."

"You can trust me." Lindsay assured her.

Yeah, Carmen thought as she followed behind. Right.

* * *

"Well look at it this way," Danny commented as he, Sam, Carmen and Speed stood alongside a ripe smelling dumpster behind a low rise apartment building in Staten Island. "At least it stopped raining."

It was still thundering in the distance and cracks of lightning still cut across the sky every several minutes. But the wind had died down and the rain subsided for the time being. Now the air was thick and humid once again despite being two thirty in the morning.

The call had come in an hour ago. Normally the drive would have taken only thirty minutes, but with the flash flooding and the late night stragglers, it had taken twice as long. There were two bodies. One in the smaller of the dumpsters belonging to the ten story building, the other in a unit on the fifth floor. Mac had left it to the four of them to decide who did what. And that was exactly what they were attempting to do.

"So what happens now?" Carmen asked, sweating under her rain poncho. "We flip a coin or draw straws to see who goes where? Split into two teams?"

"Sam and I will take the dumpster." Speed offered.

Carmen was a little surprised that he'd decided that so quickly. And a little hurt that he didn't want to be paired with her. Maybe he's just awkward about last night, she thought. Or maybe he decided last night was as far as he wanted to take anything. She had not idea why she wold think of such things at a crime scene, or why she even cared about him at all.

"Thanks!" Sam exclaimed,shrugging out of her navy blue windbreaker with CSI:NY on the back of it in big white letters. "Glad to see I get a say in this! You're going in there. I can handled garbage and a DB on a normal day, but after its rained?"

"It's a small dumpster." Speed said. "And you're a small person. I'll never fit in there and you can fit in a shoe box."

Carmen and Danny chuckled.

"I get it all ready!" Sam rolled her eyes. "I'm the size of a twelve year old! Enough! I'm going to go and get my coveralls and my boots from the truck."

"Need help changing?" Danny asked.

Carmen elbowed him. "So what'll it be, Messer? You do overalls?" she shoved the camera in his hands.

"Guess I don't have much a choice." Danny said.

Speed gave Carmen a small smile before she and Danny headed off and she felt a little better about the silent treatment she seemed to be getting from him. He'd already admitted to being a very private person so she really shouldn't have expected differently.

Flack came out of back service door just as Carmen and Danny were heading into it.

"What's that on your neck, Flack?" Carmen shone her flash light on him and yanked the collar of his shirt down to reveal perfect human teeth marks. "Sonofabitch! What the hell is wrong with you two?"

"Think that's bad? You should see my back and my shoulders. I could barely stand my shirt on at first."

"You are a sick twisted human being." Carmen declared.

"Lucky bastard!" Danny called before the door swung shut.

Flack joined Speed at the dumpster.

"So?" Speed asked. "What we lookin' at, Blue?"

"Dead people." Flack answered matter of factly.

"No shit. Whose the one in the dumpster?"

"All I have for you..." Flack referred to his note book. "Female victim, early to late teens, wrapped in a sleeping bag, obvious signs of trauma to the body."

"You send someone in there to look?"

Flack sighed. "Would that not be disturbing the scene?"

Speed nodded. "It would."

"I know how crime scenes work. One of my guys looked in. I've been working them long enough to know not to let anyone touch anything. So relax."

"Who found it?"

"Homeless guy lookin' for a meal. Jumped in, fell on the body. Lost his breakfast, lunch and dinner. Said the only thing eh touched was the sleeping bag 'cause he wanted it for himself and that's when he realized it was a body. Covered it back up out of respect."

Speed snorted.

"Also touched her looking for a pulse." Flack added.

"A homeless guy with CPR skills, huh? What's the deal with the trauma?"

"Looks like two GSW's. One in the stomach, the other in the shoulder.

"Anyone see anything or hear anything?"

Flack looked at Speed in disdain.

"Right... right... everyone around here is deaf and blind. Got'cha."

"Did you change your mind, Tim?" Sam asked hopefully as she came back. Her coveralls were unzipped to the waist and the arms tied around her slender hips, revealing the simple black tank top she wore underneath. Heavy rubber boots and an NYPD ball cap she'd managed to talk one of the uniforms into handing over finished the look. She snapped on a pair of gloves.

"Uh... no." he said with a smile.

"You owe me." she said and placed one foot on the side of the dumpster, grabbed the top with both hands and pulled herself up. It took tremendous upper body strength and both men looked on in awe and appreciation. "What?" she asked, swinging her legs over the edge.

"You are one strong little shit." Speed said.

She flexed a bicep and jumped into the dumpster.

"Watch out for the puke." Speed called out.

"What?... Fuck! This is horrible! Fucking disgusting!"

"Quit bitching like a little girl." Speed said as he and Flack grinned at each other.

"I am a girl!" Sam reminded him. "It smells like shit! It's just plain fucking gross! I need my kit and a camera!"

Speed handed both over. "I'm gonna start out here. Trace and all. Shout if you need anything."

"I will." she said and continued to grumble and swear as she rummaged through the trash.

"You need to be less Oscar the Grouch and more Mary Poppins." Speed said.

"Speedle!" she yelled. "Fuck you!"

"How do you put up with that?" Speed asked Flack.

"Not as easy as it looks." the detective replied.

"I can hear you two!" Sam informed them.

"Guess it helps when they're devastatingly beautiful." Speed said.

Flack grinned. "It doesn't hurt."

* * *

She was in there for nearly forty five minutes. Taking pictures and looking for trace. Evidence of any kind really. Something that would be helpful. Tossing garbage bags out of the way and fighting back a state of constant nausea at the smell of rotting food and household waste.

The vic was young. Sam pegged her at no later than eighteen. Long, silky raven hair with fire engine red chunks throughout. Heavy, dramatic, and severely over done makeup. A powder white face with scarlet red lips and heavy black liner and layers of mascara. A simple black baby doll nightie with red stitching along the straps and the hem and neck line.

Two GSWs. Sam examined without moving the body as much as possible, not wanting to risk the wrath of the MEs office. The most startling discovery was the fact that the vic's eye lids had been cut off. With a clean, sharp line.

Now that's creepy, Sam thought, shivering at the way it looked as if the girl watched every move she made. She snapped off several more pictures. Was lost in her own little world, ear phones of an I-Pod in one ear, listening to Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake. As macabre as listening to music at that moment seemed, it took her mind off the horror at her feet. There was a loud bang on the dumpster, followed by someone standing looking over the edge to her left.

"What ya got?" Flack asked.

She jumped, nearly falling over the body. "Don!" she yelled. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"What? You thought the DB was sitting up to talk to ya?" he teased, amused at the reaction he'd gotten.

"If she sits up and talks, I am so out of here!" Sam declared.

"What's the verdict?" he asked. "Give me something. Anything."

She grinned.

"I meant about the body. Get your mind out of that twisted little place its in."

"Female." she said. "Fifteen to twenty years of age. Caucasian. Wearing a La Perla nightie and Jimmy Choo heels. Very nice, Jimmy Choo heels."

"Samantha... focus.. I need you to focus for five seconds." Flack said as he wrote eveything down.

"Defensive wounds to the forearms. Visible trace under the nails. Blunt force trauma to the head."

"Fatal?"

"Doesn't look major. Glancing type blow. Two GSWs. One to the upper left abdomen, the other to the right chest. I'm guessing the chest was first and the one to the stomach killed her."

"Tell anything about the weapon?"

"A gun."

Flack sighed heavily. "Anything a little more specific?"

"You're asking a lot here, Don. I'm knee deep in garbage and rats and you want me to look at the wounds?"

"Get to work, Ross." he said.

"That's it, pull rank." she snorted. "Okay... from what I can see, it was a medium calibre... entrance wounds approx half an inch in diameter. There doesn't appear to be any exit wounds. No GSR present so it wasn't fired up close and personal. There's barely any blood and she's on top of the garbage..."

"Rape dump?"

"Most likely. "And there's something really bizarre."

"What's that?"

"Her eye lids have been cut off."

Flack felt his chest tighten and his heart speed up. "Can't be Clay Dobson." he commented a loud. "He's dead."

Sam stood up in the dumpster. "Who?" she asked.

"Clay Dobson. Sick twisted serial rapist and murderer that got his kicks cutting off his vics eyelids. Died a year back."he didn't feel like going into Mac being accused of throwing Dobson of a twenty story roof and the subsequent IAB hearing. Because that would somehow lead to Dean Truby and the stolen drugs and the memo book and Flack was not prepared to tell her about that yet.

"Probably some sick copy cat." Sam reasoned. "Will you call the ME for me? She's ready to go. And be a sweetheart and help me out of here. I promise not to get your suit too dirty. You look mighty handsome tonight, by the way."

He took the kit from her as she climbed up onto the edge of the dumpster."Keep your mind on the job." he said took her hand and helped her down. "You smell like death." he informed her.

Sam sniffed his shirt. "You don't. You smell pretty damn good."

"Promise me you'll shower when you get back to the lab." he said.

"No. I am going to reek like this all day just to bug you. You know," she took her kit and headed off to join Speed. "a bigger man wouldn't mind."

Flack smirked and took out his phone.

* * *

"Neighbours heard some fighting," Angell began as she led Carmen and Danny into the severely vandalized apartment on the fifth floor. "There were two women screaming and a male voice. The screaming stopped and right away there were what sounded like fire crackers going. Four in quick succession."

"Whoa..." Danny shook his head at the sight before them. Broken glass, scattered and smashed personal belongings. Heavy blood patterns on the walls, ceiling and floors. A lone female body in a black lace nightgown hiked up around her waist and panties askew, lying in the middle of a rapidly drying blood pool. "I've seen a lot of tossings but this has got to be the worst." he said.

"What time did the call come in?" Carmen asked.

"Shortly after one." Angell replied. "We would have been here sooner, but this rain is slowing everything down. And that's saying something because Flack drives like Dale Earnhardt."

"High velocity blood spatter." Danny commented, taking in the scene.

"There is no way that all this blood came from one person." Carmen said.

"Maybe the girl downstairs was killed here." Danny suggested. "Dumped afterwards. Only swabbing and DNA comparisons will tell that."

"Are you trying to hint at something?" Carmen asked.

"I'm pulling rank. I'll do overalls and the body. You do trace and fingerprints."

She saluted him playfully. "Yes, sir!" she sat her kit on the ground and snapped it open and put on a pair gloves and grabbed her flashlight for her initial walk through. "I've got a partial print on the window sill and the glass itself." she announced. "And lots of smearing on the ledge and gravitational blood trail leading to here from the vic."

Carmen peered out the window. Saw Sam in the dumpster. "Hey!" she called down. "Miss Thing!"

Sam glanced up. "Hey!"

"Think your vic was tossed out this window. Is it possible she fell straight down and landed on her back like that?"

"I guess. Get one of them Bendi things from the truck and toss it over and see!"

"How about I just toss Danny over?" Carmen suggested.

"I heard that." Danny complained.

"What's your COD?" Carmen asked Sam.

"GSW!"

"Same here. All right. I'm gonna go down and get one of those dummies and drop it."

"I don't think Flack or Speed would like that too much." Sam said.

Carmen laughed heartily and stuck her head back in the apartment. "Be back, Messer. Got an experiment to run."

"Get swabs and take prints yet? What about photos?"

"Done, done and done. I know what I'm doing. Relax."

"You know," Danny said. "I'm starting to think our two vics are connected.'

"Wow, Danny." Carmen shook her head. "Your powers of deduction are incredible."

"Shut up and get to work." he grumbled.

"Weird thing, huh?" Angell commented as she took the elevator with Carmen. "The two vics being connected."

"We won't know that until we do the tests to confirm it." Carmen said. "And I've seen weirder.'

"So..." Angell cleared her thraot noisily. "You and the new girl Ross are pretty tight."

"We are. Why?"

"Just curious." Angell said. "So what's the deal with her and Flack?"

"The deal?"

"They actually dating or just sleeping together or what?"

Carmen just snorted in disgust and shook her head.

"I'm just curious." Angell defended herself.

"Sure. Look, I already know about your crash and burn with Flack so cut the shit. You wanna know? Ask them. Its not my place to talk about it."

"Flack's all ready said a lot. About how he feels about her."

"Than that's all you need to know." Carmen said. "Personally, I'm sick of all the petty, immature bastards getting in their business. If they're happy, and they seem disgustingly happy, what the hell is it to any of you? And I'm warning you right now, don't try and wreck things for them. They both deserve to be happy. Don't fuck it up with some jealous bullshit."

Angell glared at her. "Is that a threat, Devine?"

"If you need it to be."

The elevator doors opened at the main floor. Angell stepped past Carmen with a foul look.

Bitch, Carmen thought and headed for the truck. Angell didn't want to mess with her.

Not when it came to her best friend.

**Thanks to all of you enjoying and reviewing! Please keep it up!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Me no own, you no sue**

**Digging through the trash and untangling the wood: Part Two**

"Hush little baby, don't say a word

and never mind that noise you heard

it's just the beast under your bed

in your closet, in your head."

-Enter Sandman, Metallica

* * *

A body could fall five stories and land on its back. Only problem was that someone would have to hang the body out the window, turn it and hold it length wise and then drop it. Danny and Carmen couldn't see anyone going to that much trouble. Not to mention how awkward and time consuming it would have been to pull off. And with all the windows in the building directly in front of them, it meant a lot of possible witnesses. It didn't make sense to take that much of a risk. Their new theory was that the body had been tossed out the window already in the sleeping bag, then the killer had gone down and arranged the body to make it look otherwise.

Speed was down in trace, his second home, helping out Adam with the mountain of possible evidence pulled from both the dumpster and the apartment. Carmen was in the AV lab scanning through the security tapes from the underground and the front entrance of the building. An hour after she first started, nothing looked even the least bit suspicious.

Sam and Danny were in the lay out room, working efficiently across a table from one another, sipping coffee and listening to a CD of downloaded music Danny had popped into the small stereo on the far counter.

"So much for doing anything today." Danny commented. "Weather's shitty and I can tell ya right now this is going to be a double."

"Optimism, Messer!" Sam encouraged, turning the vic's night gown over and over in her hands as she peered through the magnifying light. "Must be optimistic!"

"Can you see us getting out of here anytime soon? It's almost eight. And we've only gotten this far."

"You can make our rained out date up to me. Buy me lunch and dinner. We'll still be here.'

"Now who needs to be optimistic?" Danny asked. "Think the power will hold out?"

"Hope so. Otherwise, we'll be going old school by flashlight."

Sam stepped away from the table and yawned noisily and stretched.

"Ya just a bit tired there, Brooklyn?" Danny asked. "Had a late night or something?"

She grinned "Danny, you all ready know that answer."

"Gotta say, its kinda weird. Working with the girl that's sleepin' with my best friend."

"There's more to it than that."

"I know. He's told me a few things."

"About me?" Sam inquired.

"About you and him and what's going on. And that's all I am going to tell you. It is between me and Flack."

"Its good though?"

"Like there's a doubt?"

Sam grabbed the Styrofoam coffee cup and took a sip. "Danny, I need to ask you something and you have every right to tell me to mind my own business."

"Shoot."

"First off, thanks for waking me up at three in the morning."

"Like you were sleeping." Danny snorted.

"Second, why in the hell did you let Lindsay stay at your place?"

Danny sighed. "I felt sorry for her."

"You felt sorry for her? She's brought all this on herself."

"I know. I just... I feel like I owe her something."

"Owe her something?" Sam bit back the urge to laugh. "Why? Because the relationship didn't turn out the way she wanted it to? It happens. She's old enough to get over it. Jesus, Danny, grown some balls. Did you feel sorry for her enough to sleep with her?"

"I already went through this with Flack a half an hour ago. I did not sleep with her and I have no idea why she would tell you that. I have no desire to sleep with her. And I would not lie to you and Flack. Especially Flack."

"Well the you best be telling her to fuck off and get out." Sam suggested. "She lies. A lot. Has she always been like this?"

"She's never lied like this before. But she's always been a little dramatic."

"So on to my third thing." Sam sad

"Christ, there's a third?"

"Did I hear right when Don said you met my cousin?"

"Outside of the Starbucks near my place. Said she was your cousin.'

"Fairly tall? Blond curls? Willowy body, works as a nurse?"

"That would be her." Danny concurred. "Erica."

"I know her name." Sam reminded him.

"Helped her to her car." Danny explained. "She gave me her phone number."

"Really?" Sam went back to her evidence. "Hmmm..."

Danny glanced up. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing. She's just..." Sam searched for the words. "She doesn't seem like the type to do something like that."

"People change." Danny reasoned. "She said she hasn't seen you in a long while."

"Its been too long." Sam agreed and went back to her evidence.

"What's up with autopsy today? Never takes this long."

"Pino told me during the last call I made down there that he had a full house all night and he's working a double, too.";

"Only thing he did all night, guarantee, is play X-box and hang out up here fliritin' with the techs." Danny said.

"All I know," Sam sighed. "Is that he better get those damn bullets out of there in one piece. I found no weapons whatsoever in the dumpster or in the three on the side of the building. And you found nothing in the apartment. So..."

"Its long gone, Brooklyn. Killer probably took it with him and tosses it. " he suddenly stopped working and stood up and sniffed the air. "The smell is fading." he said.

"I showered three times since I've been back and scrubbed myself with as many lemons as I could find... I've got some biological trace here..." she reached over for a couple swabs to take samples of what appeared to be semen and vaginal fluid to go along with the hair samples she had collected earlier.

"You get to the sleeping bag yet?" Danny asked.

"I am one person, Messer." she replied.

"Slacker. I gotta run down to DNA. Want me to take yours?"

"Sure." she wrote her name number on the boxes. "Tell them to put a rush on it."

"Yeah..." Danny laughed as he headed from the room. "Right."

"Thank you!" she called.

"No prob."

* * *

Sam folded and re-bagged the nightie and took the sleeping bag out and spread it the length of the table. She hunkered down over it with the magnifying light and a pair of tweezers, searching the outside first. She had pulled two different hair samples and what looked like skin on the pull tag of the zipper when she felt someone standing behind her. And smelt them.

"I don't have anything yet, Don." she said. "I'm going as fast as I can."

"Actually," he said and stepped closer, so her ass was pressed up against his crotch. "I was bringing you something for breakfast."

She shivered at the feel of him so close to her. Reminded herself to be professional. Strictly professional. Which was hard considering all she realy wanted to do was drag him somewhere private and have her way with him.

He sat a small paper bag down on the table next to her and leaned over to see what she was doing, his body tight against hers, side of his face next to hers.

"Don... we are working..." she reminded him.

"I am looking at the evidence from my crime scene." he argued.

"Sure you are..."

"And thinking about dragging you into whatever empty room I can find."

She grinned. "I think you need to stand on one side of the table and me on the other." she suggested.

He sniffed the back of her neck and goosebumps invaded her entire body at the feel of his breath on her skin.

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"I'm glad to see you don't stink anymore. Only now you smell like a fruit stand."; he snuck a kiss to the back of her neck and retreated to the other side of the table.

"Lemons." she said. "How'd it go with the super?"

"The apartment was rented to Carmen and Danny's vic. Crystal Walters. Twenty, student at Columbia. Our vic is still a Jane Doe. Why aren't you in ballistics?"

"No bullets to work with."

"What's the hold up down in the dungeon?"

"Pino says he's overworked."

Flack snorted. "Over worked? Doing what? Playing video games? Me and you need to have a word."

"About?"

"Us."

"Okay... I'm listening." she continued her search for evidence.

"It's serious."

"So is my work."

Flack reached over and flicked off the magnifying lamp. "What are you telling people about us?" he asked. "I got back downstairs and I'm being called a sex maniac behind my back. And Angell asked me if it was true that I screwed you in my squad car."

"I'm not telling anyone anything." Sam defended herself. "Nice to see you jumping to conclusions."

"Our private life is being broadcast all over this place. It's no one's business."

"Guess you should have stuck to your no messing around with anyone from work rule." she flicked the light back on.

Flack turned it back off.

"What have you been telling your homicide buddies?" Sam asked.

"Nothing. So it must have been you."

Sam sighed. "Don... I haven't told anyone.'

He heard the uneasiness in her voice. "Wanna re-think that answer?" he asked. "Evidence is pretty overwhelming, Sam. You've been shootin' off your mouth just like you always do."

"God!" she huffed. "You can be such an ass hole."

"Gonna spread that around too? What an ass hole I am?"

"I don't understand you! One minute your talking all this I love you bullshit and the next you're acting like this? Or is it just I love you when you're getting your rocks off?"

"No. Its not. And its not bullshit. It's the truth. I just don't see why the whole department needs to know what you and I do in bed."

"Don, I don't have the time for this. That line between professional and personal Mac talked to us about? You're crossing it!"

He grabbed her arm as she went to walk away. "I just like when things are private. Me and you. I don't wanna end up like Danny and Lindsay. That's what I'm scared of. That we'll end up in the same shitty mess, hating each other. You mean too much to me to let that happen."

"Look, I never said anything. Okay?"

"So who said it?"

"I only told two people anything happened between us." she said.

"And they were?"

"Carmen..."

"And?" he pressed.

"Lindsay." she said reluctantly.

"You have got to be shitting me!" he snapped. "What on earth would possess you to do that! It's Monroe for fuck sakes!"

Sam actually looked frightened by his temper and took a step back. "She was really down and she seemed genuine and she said she just wanted to be part of the girl talk with Carmen and I and..." she tried defending herself.

"I'm gonna kill that little bitch! And you need to learn the right people to trust. She'll do whatever she can to get a reaction out of people. And you handed it to her. Dropped it right in her lap. I know you're trying to forgive and forget and all that, but this is Lindsay and I've worked with her long enough to know she ain't gonna change. And I'm sorry I lashed out at you. I just want things to go smooth for us. Not hear people talking about how I'm screwing my girlfriend."

"I didn't say anything intending to hurt you. It was just girl talk. I didn't think she'd spread it around. And you scare me when you get mad like this."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'd never hurt you. You know that. I think we both need to be a little more careful about how we handle things. "

Sam's phone beeped noisily. Both she and Flack cast glances down at it before she grabbed it off her pocket and checked the display. "It's Tim."; she said. "Pino just finished posting our vic. I have to go.";

"I'm sorry." Flack said and snuck in a kiss to her cheek.

"I know... so am I. Thank you for bringing me something to eat." she grabbed the bag to bring with her.

"Maybe I can buy you lunch later?" he suggested, walking her out of the lab and towards the elevators.

"Maybe..." she said. "if you're a good boy."

He smiled. "I'll be a very god boy.'

"Is that all you think about? Don't you have some detective work to do?"

"On my way to see Mac and discuss the case." he told her. "If it turns you on, I can go all cop on you later. Use the cuffs this tie.'

"I'm leaving now." she said as the elevator arrived and she stepped onto it. "You go take a cold shower or something.When you're done with Mac, can you go back to lay out and keep an eye on the stuff until Danny gets back from DNA?"

"What do I get for it?" he stopped the elevator door with his hand.

She smiled and stood on her tip toes, managing a kiss to his chin. "I can work something out." she assured him.

* * *

Sam had met Speed outside off autopsy. Now they stood over their Jane Doe and Speed and young Marty Pino were in the midst of an intense stared down across the table.

"Who are you?" Pino asked snottily.

"Who are you?" Speed replied.

"Doctor Marty Pino meet Detective Tim Speedle." Sam handled the brief and straight to the point introductions..

Pino smiled warmly at her. "And how are we doing this fine morning, Detective Ross?"

She rolled her eyes. So did Speed. "Better than her." Sam replied, nodding down at the Jane Doe. "What's the story?"

"COD was the GSW to the lower left abdomen." Pino pulled the surgical sheet down and laid his gloved fingers around the wound. ";It all but obliterated the spleen, liver and left kidney. Death was very near instantaneous. I managed to pull these." he handed Sam a plastic dish containing two bullets. "out of the wounds.";

Sam eyed the bullets. "Pretty decimated." she said.

"Think you can work with them?" Speed asked.

"I've worked with worse. I should be able to get some kind of stri off of them. But at first blush, I say they're twenty two's. Tell us about the head wound, Marty."

"Non lethal. A glancing blow like she fell and hit it off the edge of a coffee table or a counter. Sex assault kit came back positive and I sent a sample up to DNA and some blood to tox. I also noticed this..." Pino applied pressure to open the vic's mouth and reached in with a pair of tweezers. He pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. "at the back of the tongue. Never got to swallow it before death.";

"Maybe she didn't want to." Speed commented as Pino dropped the paper into a dish and handed it to him.

"Also," Pino continued. "the eyelids were removed with a very thin, small, extremely sharp blade. Even sharper than my scalpels. Surgical precision. This vic and Devine and Messer's have the exact same injuries, minus the head wound. Has it been established they were in the apartment together?"

"Blood from the vic matches samples taken from the apartment. She was definitely there."; Speed confirmed.

"Would explain why I found hair that matches your vic on the other vic and vice versa. In very intimate places.";

"This is getting weirder and weirder by the second." Speed declared.

They rode the elevator up to the thirty-fifth floor, spending half of the trip in silence as Sam munched on the pink sprinkle donut Flack had brought her and Speed flipped through the autopsy report.

"Need to ask ya something, Mouse." he said, not taking his eyes off the papers in his hand.

"Ask away." she told him.

"You know anything about Carmen being married to a Tanglewood Boy?"

Sam swallowed noisily. "I know she was married to him. She's divorced now."

"How long?"

Sam shrugged. "Long time."

"Was it nasty?The break up?"

"Yes. And that's all I'm going to tell you. If you want details, ask her yourself."

"What's the issue? I'm asking you."

"Tim, its not my place to talk about her personal life just like she doesn't discuss mine."

"She ever see the guy?" he asked.

"Tim..."

"Why'd they split"

"Tim! I said ask her yourself!"

Speed sighed and looked down again at the file. "You guys have a lot in common. Both dating gang bangers and all."

Sam stared hard at him. "What?"

"You hooked up with a guy from Pelham Bay. Didn't you?";

"I was fifteen! Where do you hear this stuff?"

"Flack know you got a thing for gang bangers?"

"I told him. He doesn't have a hang up with something I did fifteen years ago."

"Cops and gang bangers." Speed shook his head. "Hell of a combo."

"Tim! I was a teenager! He was my first boyfriend! I thought I was cool dating a gang guy! It has no bearing on my relationship with Don. Apparently, he's a little more confident in himself than you are."

"I just wanna know..."

"Ask Carmen." Sam cut him off as they stepped off the elevator.

"I'm asking you."

"Tim! Enough! Just ask her!"

So that's exactly what he did.

* * *

At first he said little as they worked side by side in trace. Adam over on the far wall, typing busily at a computer while bobbing his head to music coming from his I-Pod. While Carmen prepared samples for the GC/MS machine, Speed carefully and gingerly unfolded the piece of paper found in his vic's mouth.

The ink was faded from saliva, but under close inspection with a magnifying glass, he was able to read out the frantic printing.

If anything happens to me, Bradley did it. Jessica Yonge. 555-4676

Speed called Flack.

"So," he said after he hung up. "Hear the newest rumor? We had sex. I'd like to know where I was. I missed that. Did I at least enjoy it?"

Carmen sighed. "You may call it sex, but where I come from, its called going out for coffee."

"And what's this about you and an ex husband?"

"What's there to know about? Hence the word ex."

"Why didn't you tell me? A gang member? That's messed."

Carmen shifted uncomfortably beside him, feeling her temper build quickly and powerfully. "It has nothing to do with you,"she said. "It was a long time ago. I dealt with it and moved on with my life.";

"It would have been nice to know before we began our bout of imaginary sex. And are you sure you got on with your life?"

"If I had a life to get on with..." she sighed.

"I meant with you still seeing him.'

"I don't see him!" she lashed out. "Okay? I don't see anyone! And when I am ready to discuss it with you, I will!"

"Take it easy, Carmen." he said gently. "What's wrong with talking about this now?"

She snapped off her gloves and tossed them in the trash and shrugged out of her lab coat. "You know where Sam is?"

"In lay out. Why?"

Carmen left quickly.

"I'll just stay here and finish all this up! No problem!" Speed called after her. He sighed and looked at the mountain of work. "Thanks a lot." he mumbled.

"It wasn't me." Danny said adamantly. He, Sam and Carmen had huddled together in the locker room.

"If it wasn't you and it wasn't Sam, who was it?" Carmen asked, wiping away furious tears.

"And it wasn't Don." Sam spoke up, rubbing her friend's back comfortingly. "I just called him and he said he would never say anything that private. He never spoke a word to anyone about Pelham Bay or Tanglewood. In fact, he never even knew you were ever married until I told him. Sorry.";

"I don't care if you tell Flack." Carmen assured her. "You're obviously going to tell him thing. Flack isn't the problem. I trust him like i trust you two. With my life."

"So who else knows?" Sam asked.

"No one." Carmen replied. "Not even Mac or Stella."

"Well someone knows." Danny said. "Spread it around."

"Lindsay!" Carmen suddenly exclaimed. "The day you and I were talking about it, she came into the room and interrupted us. I bet you she was listening the entire time and we didn't even know it! I am so going to fucking kill that little bitch!"

"Not before I do." Sam fumed.

"You know what?"; Danny sighed. "I'll take care of Lindsay and you two just take care of yourselves and each other."

* * *

Mac had gone along with Speed and Mac to talk to the next of kin. Jessica Younge's mother was a tiny, round woman with salt and pepper curly hair and glasses and a thick Irish accent. Flack had gone and picked her up after she told him that her arthritis was too bad to take the subway. To date he hadn't told her anything further than they needed to speak to her about a personal matter. She'd assumed it was for an unpaid parking ticket her daughter had racked up. Flack hadn't responded.

Now he sat alongside of her in a small private meeting room close to Mac's office. Speed and Mac sat across from them. Speed took notes.

"Mrs Younge," Flack spoke gently and quietly. "This is Detective Mac Taylor and Detective Tim Speedle. They're from the crime lab. I asked you to come down here because I'm afraid I don't have very good news for you."

She was already sniffling. "This is about my daughter, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so." Flack said and reached for a box of kleenex that said on a small end table nearby. "Mrs Younge...";

"Please, Detective, a nice young man like yourself, call me Karen."

He smiled softly. "Karen... we found your daughter's body earlier this morning in Staten Island."

Karen Younge completely broke down. She sobbed into one hand and used the other to clutch Flack's forearm. Flack said nothing. He just looked out the window and thought of happier things. This was the part of the job he hated. Dealing with the loved ones. Mac left momentarily to get Karen a cup of water. They gave her as much time as she needed.

"Mrs Younge," Speed said when she gave sign she was ready to continue. "We found a note on her that led us to you. It had your phone number on it. It said if anything happened to her, it was Bradley's fault. Was he her boyfriend?"

She nodded. "Some guy she met on that damn internet. He moved here to be with her three months ago. He's twenty years old than her. Got kicked out of the army for professional misconduct whatever the hell that means. He collects guns. That's all I know about him."

"That's enough." Flack assured her and handed her a tissue.

She smiled appreciatively.

"Did you ever meet him?" Flack asked.

"I didn't want to . I wouldn't let her bring him to the house. I couldn't accept the fact she was with someone so much older. And someone with such a shady background."

"When was the last time you saw your daughter?" Mac asked.

"Three nights ago. She was going to stay with a friend who was having personal problems. That's all she told me. Said they were going to some Goth party."

"Do you know the name of the friend?" Speed asked.

"No name. But she's a pretty thing with flowing red hair and lovely green eyes."

Flack opened a file resting beside him and took out a picture. "I hate to ask you to do this Karen, but is this the friend?" he held it out to her.

"That's her! You mean... she's dead too?"

Flack nodded solemnly.

Karen gasped. "What happened to them?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Mac replied.

Flack's phone sounded. He checked the caller ID. "Excuse me, I have to take this." he said and got up and left the room.

"You people should employ more young men like that." Karen said. "He's awful sweet."

"One of the best." Mac agreed. "Was your daughter involved with any drugs?"

"She was into the Goth scene but lived a clean life. She was a decent, wonderful girl." Karen broke down again.

"We'll need you to identify the body." Mac said. "Would you like a female detective to take you down? Is that more comfortable for you?"

Karen nodded.

"Call Stella." Mac told Speed. "Tell her I said to do this."

Both men rose to their feet.

"We're very sorry for your loss, m'am."; Speed said and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She nodded her thanks and laid her hand briefly over his,

"Take all the time you need." Mac told her. "A female detective will be here shortly."

Flack was just hanging up when Mac and Speed joined him in the hall.

"That was Sam."; Flack said. "She just hit pay dirt on the bullets pulled from both vics. Matched them to a rare handgun. An eight millimeter type 94 pistol. Made in Japan prior to the second World War. "

Mac nodded. "Uses eight by twenty two mill Nambu bullets. Six rounds in a detachable box and gauge."

"She said its strictly a collectors item." Flack said. "Only seventy three thou were produced for military use only and they haven't been made since the war. Get this, she called all the high end gun shops, and K and K on east 178, sold one three days ago to a Bradley Sullivan. Dumb ass paid by credit card and left a paper trial longer than I am tall. She also got the military to fax over his file. He was kicked out for several charges of unlawful use of a firearm and assault on fellow officers. She got an address from Oregon and called the main postal outlet there. He left a forwarding address. The guy is a moron."

"Got the adress?" Mac asked.

"Brooklyn." Flack replied. "138 Vine, apartment 702."

"Looks like we're taking a small road trip." Mac said.

* * *

Sam and Carmen were the last to arrive. Mac, Flack, Danny and Speed and three uniforms, all in Kevlar vests, were waiting half a block from the apartment so they wouldn't draw attention. Flack broke away from the others and headed over to the two girls as they go out of the truck.

"I take it your here to convince her not to be here." Carmen said.

He just smiled.

"Good luck." she said and joined the others.

"You really need to be here?" Flack asked his girlfriend as she stepped up onto the curb, slipping on her bullet proof vest.

"This is my case." she reminded him.

"Couldn't ya have just stayed in the lab? Doing lab stuff?"

"I've gone on tons of these busts. Tons. I was ESU remember?"

"This guy is sitting on shit loads of weapons. Of all kinds." Flack reasoned. "And he knows how to use them."

"So do I." Sam said and attached the velcro straps on the vest tightly.

"I'd feel better if you weren't here." Flack told her.

"I'm a big girl, Don. This is part of my job. I'm not walking into this green.'

"I'd just rather you not be here." he said.

"Look," she laid a hand on his arm. "I appreciate you wanting to protect me..."

"I do. Its all I want."

"But I've done this before. I'm not a baby. I don't need someone to hold my hand and coddle me."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" he asked.

"Its the way I am." she replied.

He sighed heavily, decided to lighten things a bit. "You look totally hot in a vest." he informed her.

"Yeah?" she grinned. "I'll wear in bed tonight if you're good." she teased.

"Kevlar and cuffs? You're kinkier than I thought."

They walked to the rest of the group.

"At least do me a favor?" Flack asked "Stay behind me the entire time?"

"Go on a raid and stare at your ass the whole time? My day is looking up."

"Focus, Samantha. Focus."

"Can I help it you have an amazing ass?"

Outside of the building, Mac quickly briefed the team on the amount of weapons, and the individual inside. Told them all to be extremely careful. One uniform went first. The other two stayed outside to watch the perimeter. Mac was behind then uniform, then Flack, Samantha, Carmen and Danny and Speed bringing up the rear. They took the elevator and descended the hall way quietly and quickly.

"What's his name again?" Flack whispered.

"Bradley Sullivan." Mac whispered back.

Flack stepped around Mac and the uniform and pounded on the door. "Bradley Sullivan!"he yelled. "NYPD! We have a search warrant! Open up"

No answer. A t.v blaring inside.

Flack pounded even louder on the door. "Mr Sullivan! NYPD! Come to the door or we'll kick it in!"

Across the hall a door clicked open and an elderly woman stuck her head out.

"Get the hell inside!" Carmen snapped.

Seeing all the guns drawn, the woman wasted no time obeying.

Again no answer came.

However, there was a very distinct sound of someone running through the apartment.

"He's doing a runner!" Flack said.

"Danny and I will cut him off at the fire escape." Speed said and the two of them went tearing down the hall.

"Kick it in!" Flack instructed the uniform.

The young rookie raised his foot and landed a solid kick that sent the door careening off its hinges. A booming gun shot greeted them and the uniform went down hard. A shot gun had been rigged to a trip wire. Sullivan was attempting to make it out the fire escape but never made it. Flack was on him in a heart beat and wrapped his forearm around the man's throat and threw him to the ground.

"That wasn't fucking smart!";Flack bellowed, holstering his gun and placing a knee in the man's back as he reached for his cuffs. "Gonna take off huh? Got something to hide, Bradley? Didn't think we'd figure out you killed two people!" he cuffed him quickly. And tightly.

Mac radioed to Speed and Danny to come back up. And to call EMS.

"Everybody okay?" Flack asked, looking directly at Samantha. A 'next time just fucking listen to me' kind of look. She was kneeling beside the wounded officer, attempting to calm him down.

Everyone announced they were okay.

"He's fine." Sam assured everyone, comforting the terrified rookie. "The vest caught it. He's winded but fine.";

"Look at this place." Carmen commented, looking around at the various guns on the walls and stuffed in several large blue Tupperware containers.

"Regular John Wayne, huh Bradley?" Flack yanked the man to his feet. "Where's the gun?" he demanded, patting Sullivan down.

"What gun? Lots of guns here." Bradley replied.

"The gun you used to kill two girls last night. Including your girlfriend." Flack said. "Where is it?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, pig.";

"Wrong fucking answer!" Flack said and put a hand on the back the perp's head and slammed his face into the wall. "Trying to take off, trying to kill one of my guys. And now your lying. Where'd you stash the gun? You toss it?";

"I have the right to remain silent." Bradley mocked.

"Smart guy, huh?" Flack grabbed the hair at the back of Bradley's head and forced him to look to the side. "See that little brunette there? She's a bigger expert on guns than you are. So tell her where it is before she tears this place apart."

Sam unhooked the shot gun. "Winchester .357." she said.

"Where's the gun?" Flack repeated.

"I'll find it." Sam said confidently and began her search.

"Why don't you check up his ass first?" Flack suggested. "Probably lodged up there along with his head."

"Why don't you bend me over and look yourself." Bradley said. "You're probably into that sort of thing."

"Very funny, smart guy!" Flack resisted urge to pummel the perp.

"Much rather stuck something up her ass." Bradley said and winked at Sam.

"Hey!" Flack smacked the guy's head off the wall. "Watch your mouth!"

"That's police harassment, man!"

"I'll be putting you right through the wall if you don't tell me where the gun is!"

Sam spotted a windowsill planter with just potting soil in it. There was dirt on the floor and more on the ledge of the window. She headed over, shoved her hand into planter and dug around.

"Got it!" she exclaimed and pulled out the gun. "You stupid sonofabitch! Every decent criminal knows to at least clean up after themselves!"

"I have no idea how that got there." Bradley said.

Flack chuckled. "Famous last words."

Sam brought the gun over. Both Flack and the perp watched as she easily and seemingly effortlessly took it apart and examined it.

"Recently fired." she said. "Four bullets missing from the magazine. This is our gun."

"Got some explaining to do." Flack said. "Starting with why you killed your girlfriend and her friend."

"I got nothing to say to ya." Bradley remained defiant.

"We'll see about that." Flack said and yanked the perp away from the wall. "Let's go. We're taking a little ride to a place called central booking."

"Good job." Mac praised Samantha. "Go with Flack. Take the gun up to ballistics and get started on it right away. Call me with the results."

Flack was half dragging, half pushing Bradley towards the door.

"Me and you, huh, sweetheart?" Bradley blew Sam a kiss.

Flack hip checked the guy and sent him face first into the wall beside the door.

"Sonofabitch!" Bradley roared in anger and pain.

"Sorry." Flack said. "Didn't see that wall there."

Sam tried not to laugh.

"What? She your bitch or something? You given Mr. Police Man freebies, cutie?"

Flack stepped through the door and pushed Bradley hard into the frame.

"Mother fucker!" the perp roared even louder.

"Man." Flack shook his head. "I must need glasses. I didn't see that wall there either."

Sam hid a laugh with a cough.

Bradley continued to give her a long once over as they headed for the elevator.

"Damn," he licked his lips. "You are something fine, girl! I wouldn't mind bendin' you over and..."

Flack stuck his foot in between Bradley's, sending the man falling flat on his face. Hard. Sam simply stepped over him.

"You're clumsy today, Detective Flack." Sam commented, pressing the down button for the elevator.

"Don't know what's gotten into me. Sorry about that, buddy." Flack yanked Bradley back onto his feet and shoved him in the direction of the elevator.

"Sure you are... motherfucker!"

The elevator arrived and they got on. Bradley in between them. Flack's hand firmly on the man's shoulder.

"You got a boyfriend, sweetie?" Bradley asked Sam.

"Yes." she replied simply.

"What's the chances of ya ditching him for me?"

"Slim to none."

"Come on, girl... what's he got that I don't?";

"You tell me." she said. "He's standing right beside you."

"Be nice, Bradley. Flack warned. "I'd hate for my gun to accidentally go off."

"Good for you, copper! Lucky man! She's a sweet piece of..."

Sam hauled off and elbowed him hard enough in the gut to bring him to his knees.

"Ooops."; she said. "My arm slipped."

"Nice move." Flack praised. "Teach ya that out in Arizona?"

"They actually teach us how to knee guys in the balls, but I thought I'd be nice."

"You... bitch.. " Bradley gasped, still on the ground.

"She's tougher than she looks, huh?" Flack needled him. "She's the mean one out of the two of us."

"Fucking... bitch... whore..."

Flack yanked the man back up. "You gonna be nice now, Bradley?"

He nodded, his face scarlet red. "She is a tough little Brooklyn bitch. You are in for a world of hurt."

Flack grinned. "That's what makes it so much fun." he said.

**Aphina:**LOL! the dumpster scaring part had me laughing as I wrote it! Carm and Sam continue to become even closer! And Lindsay's demise is coming very soon!

**Mauveine:** Danny will soon be getting his revenge on Lindsay. But it doesn't go as planned.

**Madison Bellows**: the case will wrap up next chap. And the bonds will continue to become stronger between Sam/Carmen and Flack/Speed. Lindsay is on her way out. Not sure about Angell but I think she's good for Sam, jealousy wise!

**laplandgurl:** Danny grows them next chap!

**Bluehaven4220:**LOL! I know what you mean! I can't resist throwing in the dumpster diving.Something about it is humorously satisfying.

**And to all of those reading and not reviewing (I know there's a lot) I'd like to hear from you guys!**


	27. Chapter 27

**WARNING: RATED M FOR MUCH LATER PARTS**

**Digging through the trash and untangling the wood: Part Three**

"Love can save a thousand lives

joy in a world that sweetly cries

for every moment it has become

the cure will come,

thy will be done."

-The World is Darker, Never Ending White Lights (feat. Auf Der Maur)

* * *

"Sammie!" Adam called, hurrying out of the trace lab at the sight of his sister rushing past.

"Adam, I don't have time right now! I have to get to ballistics! Don has a suspect downstairs and I need to test fire ASAP!"

"Just a minute! I need just a minute s'il vous plait!" Adam chased after her.

Sam slowed down for him to catch up. "What is it? Walk with me, Adam."

"The Sarge wants to know why you haven't called him to go for lunch yet."

"Because I'm working and I'm very busy." Sam reasoned.

"I know that. And I've told him that and he's not listening."

"Adam, just tell him I will call when I'm not running around like a chicken with my head cut off!"

"I'd do that, but maybe you can tell him yourself seeing as he's here."

Sam skidded to a halt. "What?"

"He's here. In the break room! I tried telling him that I didn't know when you'd back 'cause you were out in the field and he said he's just wait and I told hi it could be a long wait and he said it didn't matter and..."

"Adam, calm. You're going to hyperventilate!"

"He's pissed."

She frowned. "How pissed is pissed?"

"Not as pissed as he is suspicious."

"Shit! I do not have time to be dealing with this right now!" Sam started walking once again. "If he finds you before me, you tell him that I'm swamped and I..."

"Samantha!" The Sarge bellowed as he stepped out of the break room at the end of the hall and spied her heading towards him.

"Fuck..." Sam mumbled under her breath and saw Adam go white out of the corner of her eye. "Dad, I don't have the time right now!"

"Me and you need to have a talk young lady!"

"I know. But I'm in the middle of a huge case and I need to get to ballistics!"

"I know you're with that boy!"

"Jesus Christ, dad! He's thirty years old! He's a man!"

"Thirty is a kid in my books!" the Sarge exclaimed, falling in step beside her.

"Dad!" Sam fought to remain calm. "I have no time to be arguing with you."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"Oh my God!" Sam slapped a hand to her forehead. "Dad! Are you serious? Tell me you're not serious!"

"When are you off?" he asked.

"Whenever I'm finished." Sam replied.

"And when is that going to be?"

"A few more hours."

Sarge checked his watch. "I'll be back here at six and you better be ready to go. Me and you will have ourselves a nice father/daughter dinner."

"Lecture session, you mean." Sam huffed.

"Samantha Marie Ross!" the Sarge spoke sternly. "I am not fooling around here! Six o'clock. Be here. Right in this spot!"

"Fine." she conceded. "Good bye, dad. I need to get to work."

"Boy," Adam said as they watched the sarge stalk off down the hall. "that went over well."

Sam glared at him. "Shut up."

* * *

Flack sat across from Bradley Sullivan at the interrogation table. Sipping coffee with his feet up, getting amusement out of Bradley's constant fidgeting and profuse sweating. A second take out cup - this one tea- and a small plastic glass of water sat on the table, along with a stack of files.

"Feeling a little sick, are we Brad?" Flack asked.

"Just a little... I need something..."

"I know what you need. A fix. What is it? Coke? Meth? Crack?"

"I need my meds."

Flack laughed. "Meds. Classic. You don't even have a medical condition that requires meds. Only thing you're gettin' is that glass of water there. So drink up."

A knock came to the door and Flack got up to answer it.

"What's up?" he asked Sam, stepping out into the hall.

"The bullets from both girls were an identical match to bullets I test fired from the gun at the apartment. Adam also just confirmed that Bradley's DNA matches the semen in both our vics. And the fingerprints on the weapon are his as well!"

She couldn't contain her child like excitement. Her eyes sparkling, her nose crinkling as she smiled. Flack thought how young and innocent she seemed just then, and he was struck by an image of her as a young girl, with all that trust in her eyes and being put through such unbelievable torment. And he wanted to reach out and touch her face and apologize for all the horrible things she'd been put through and somehow managed to survive.

"I need to get a GSR test just to cover all the bases." she said, breaking him out of his daze.

"More the merrier." Flack said and held open the door for her. "Brad! I brought you a visitor!"

He looked over. "AHHH!! Fuck no!! Anybody but her!"

"I promise I won't let her hurt you." Flack said. "Do us a favor and hold out your hands."

"My hands?" Bradley looked a little worried.

"Just humor me." Flack said irritably. "Come on. Its ninety degrees in this room and hotter outside. Give us a break here."

He reluctantly held out his hands.

"You right handed or left handed?" Sam asked.

"And don't lie." Flack added.

"Right." the perp responded.

Sam ran the GSR test pad over the man's right hand and then sprayed a fine mist on it from a small spray bottle. The pad immediately turned purple.

"Just so you know," Flack said "that's bad."

"Why don't you start telling us what happened." Sam suggested, taking a seat beside Flack. "See, this little test proves that you fired a gun recently. You have gunshot residue on your hand. These tests here..." she opened one of the files. "tell us that you raped both Crystal Walters and Jessia Younge.Your DNA matches the semen found in both girls. And this one here," she held up piece of paper. "tells us that the bullets used to kill the girls came from your gun. Which was fired recently and had your finger prints all over it."

"You ask me," Flack sipped his coffee. "you're screwed."

"My girl was fucking around on me." Bradley said. "With another girl."

"Sounds like every guy's fantasy to me." Flack commented.

Sam booted him in the shin under the table.

He bit back a wince. "Which girl was which?" he asked.

"Jess was my girlfriend. She said her and Crystal were just friends. Dude, any time the woman says that, its the complete opposite."

"So what happened?" Flack asked. "You didn't want to share or what?"

"Went there to confront them. Guess what happened? She and Crystal let me join in. Rough shit. Three-way stuff."

"And that's a problem?" Flack asked.

Sam stomped on his foot.

"It is when after they tell you to fuck off! That they wanted nothing more to do with you! I just lost it! I'd brought my gun to scare Jess. Force her to leave with me."

"And?" Sam prodded.

"And what? I shot 'em and killed 'em."

"How'd Jessica get in the dumpster?" Flack asked.

"Threw her out the window. Like the trash she was. Went down afterwards and moved her around. So it would throw you guys off."

"We're not that stupid." Flack informed the perp.

"What's up with the eye lids?" Sam asked.

"Just thought it would be a cool little touch. Read about that Dobson guy in the papers. The one that died in police custody. Look up to the guy. Pay homage to him.'

Flack snapped. Jumped to his feet and slammed his hands down on the table top startling both the perp and Samantha who jumped nearly out of her seat. "Dobson was a sick, twisted pathetic piece of shit!" Flack roared. "You looked up to a guy that raped and murdered defenseless women? You thought it would be cool? You know what would be really cool?"

Flack leaned over the table, inches away from Bradley's face and lowered his voice..

"Watching you get put away for two life sentences and seeing some big ass inmate rip you a new ass hole! That would be cool! I'll have a officer come in and show you to your temporary lodging. We're done here." Flack quickly gathered up the files in trembling hands and left the room.

* * *

Sam hurried to catch up to him. "Don... what the hell was that?"

He couldn't tell her about Mac and Clay Dobson and the IAB mess. Because if he told about that, it would all lead back to Dean Truby and the stolen drugs from the raid and the Mac/log book issue. And Flack himself being a part of Truby's demise. He was worried that she would think less of him for helping nail another cop. And he couldn't bear the thought of that.

"Guys like that make me sick." Flack hissed.

"You totally lost it when he mentioned that Dobson character."

"Not right now, Sam. That's the last thinng I want to discuss right now."

"What was all that about him dying in police custody?" she pressed.

"Samantha..."

"What happened? You must know what happened."

"Samantha!" he snapped, wheeling around to face her. "I said..." he struggled to calm his voice down. "I said not right now. Okay? Later, when we're alone, I will tell you."

"I think me and you need to stay away from each other for a little bit." she suggested, backing away from him.

"What? No. That's not what we need. Let's go and get something to eat while Bradley gets established and both of us calm down. Its just all the adrenaline from the day. Makes me temperamental."

"I've got work to do." she insisted and attempted to walk away.

He caught her by the wrist.

She yanked her arm away and kept going.

"Samantha..." he called after her.

She just kept going.

Flack wanted to bang his head off a wall or put his fist through it.

"Trouble in paradise all ready, Flack?" Angell asked as she passed by.

"Do me a favour? Mind your own business." Flack snapped.

"Your grumpy. What happened? No sex in the squad today?"

"You know what? Fuck you, bitch. What I wouldn't give to have you be a man for five minutes so I could beat your ass. Stay outta my face, Angell."

"If I'd known you were into the bitchy, nymphomaniac, guns and ammo type..." Angell began.

"You still woulda been last on my list." Flack finished.

* * *

Not getting any where with questioning Flack about Clay Dobson, Samantha decided to take matters into her own hands. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and when that happened, it was impossible for her to let something go.

She retreated to her desk at the back of the busy, noisy precinct, powered up the computer and quickly accessed the NYPD's previous solved cases file. Typed in Dobson's name and waited.

She cringed when she saw Angell coming towards her. Bit on her lip to keep herself from saying something incredibly nasty. She'd seen the other woman talking to Flack across the room, and had seen her flirtatious smiles and the way Flack had given her icy glares and snappy, mean responses in return. It made her feel somewhat vindicated for all the nasty shit that had been said as of that. But when she felt Angell stop directly behind her chair and peer curiously at her computer screen, Sam felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her blood start to boil.

Flack, across the room at his own desk, pretending to immerse himself in paper work, kept glancing over, anger in his eyes, as if expecting Angell to do or say something stupid that would warrant Sam knocking her out. And that he would pay to see.

"I can tell you everything you need to know about Clay Dobson." Angell said.

"I am so not in the mood today." Sam informed her.

"Guess its not as much sex as the rumors made it sound. Otherwise you two wouldn't be so bitchy today."

"Angell," Sam kept her tone even and her eyes on the screen in front of her. "next time you want to spread some stupid shit about me or Don, make sure it doesn't find its way back to me. Because you are one step away from slapping you so hard your grandchildren will be born dizzy."

Angell smirked. This pretty little CSI had balls. "What do you know so far about Dobson?" she asked, sliding into the chair alongside Sam's desk.

"I know he's a serial rapist and murderer that got his kicks cutting his vics' eyelids off so they had to watch him while they died. And that he died in police custody."

Sam's cell phone beeped. In coming text message. Sent from Flack's cell phone. She glanced over at his desk. He was pretending to be filling out paper work, but she could see his cell on top of his desk. She glanced at her phone.

DON'T TRUST A WORD SHE SAYS

"Mac threw him off a twenty storey building." Angell told her.

Sam slipped her phone into her desk. "What?" she asked.

"At least that's what it looked like. Last year, Dobson got out of jail and a new vic popped up with his signature." Angell explained. "Make a long story short, it was tracked back to Dobson, who had another vic in his possession he was in the midst of torturing, and Mac went after him. During an altercation, Mac tried to arrest Dobson, who resisted. Dobson fell off the roof."

Sam frowned. "Fell?"

"Mac says he jumped, but IAB turned it into this big thing, wanted to make it look like Dobson was thrown off 'cause he was wearing Mac's handcuffs and was pretty beat up."

"Okay... explain to me why someone like Dobson was out on the street."

"That's the good part." Angell enthused. "There was a massive fuck up with the arresting detective, Dean Truby."

"What kind of fuck up?"

"Truby was connected to the murder of some innocent kid that walked in on him getting ready to sell black cocaine."

"Hang on. Back up a second. Black cocaine?"

"He stole drugs from an NYPD raid that Flack was in charge of. People thought Flack was involved at first.'

"People?" Sam asked and sipped her tea. "Or just you?"

Angell ignored her.

"How Truby get caught?" Sam asked, mentally storing all of this information if she felt a need to have it verified.

"Well, a match came back on a nine millimeter bullet at the scene that matched a police issue Glock. But he finally got caught when Flack passed over his log book from the raid to Mac. Things got real bad around here for a while for Flack. Guys talking about him not having Truby's back. Calling him a rat for helping Mac out."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Why what?"

"Come down on someone for that?"

"It's a code. Protect your fellow officers at all costs. Flack broke it. Wouldn't expect you to understand just being a CSI and all."

"Angell, I am just as cop as you are so don't go there. Are you telling me that if you knew someone killed someone or took drugs from your raid, you wouldn't say anything?"

"No."

Sam laughed. "Bullshit. When the job is your livelihood and there's a chance of you getting nailed for something you didn't do, protect yourself."

"Well I've never been put in that position. Maybe Flack should have kept a better eye on his guys so they couldn't steal something."

"And maybe you should keep your mouth shut on things you know nothing about. You weren't there. You don't know the circumstances."

Angell smirked. "That's sweet. Sticking up for your boyfriend. You're loyal. I'll give you that much."

Sam finished her tea and stood and tossed the empty cup in the nearby trash. "Thanks." she said, shutting down her computer and gathering up her things.

"Hope I didn't shatter your knight in shining armor vision of him."

"He's more like a knight in a bullet proof vest wielding a shot gun." Sam corrected. "And no. You didn't."

"He's not what you think, Samantha." Angell told her.

"None of us are." Sam replied and quickly left.

* * *

Bradley was processed and booked and assigned a public defender. The evidence had been catalogued and sent downstairs and would sit there until the trial started.

It was seven o'clock in the evening by the time Flack punched out. He headed upstairs to the lab. Tired, weary and sore.

"She's not here." Adam announced just as Flack stepped off the elevator and Adam was coming to grab it.

"What do you mean she's not here?" Flack asked, thinking, she must be more pissed at me than I thought.

"Left about an hour ago." Adam told him. "She didn't call you?"

Flack shook his head.

"She went out with The Sarge." Adam said, shrugging into a red, blue and white plaid shirt. "He came here and went all military on her earlier. Demanded she go out to dnner with him to talk. You can just imagine what that's about."

Flack just nodded.

"She honestly didn't call you?"

"Would I be here i she did?" Flack sighed. "Sorry, Adam. Didn't mean to snap at you. It's been a hell of a day."

Adam shrugged it off. "Hey, I can imagine dealing hands on with the perps can get to ya after awhile. Working with my sister is just like it. Amusing most times, but a pain in the ass the other times."

Flack grinned. "She say what time she'd be done getting the third degree?"

"With Sarge, she could still be there tomorrow."

"Thanks, Adam. You see her or talk to her, tell her I went home."

"You know." Adam walked alongside the taller man as he turned for the elevator. "I was going out with Danny and Hawkes and Speed. You wanna come with? Seeing as you and my sister are pretty serious, maybe me and you should get to know each other better. Sam and I, were really tight and I kinda like to keep an eye on her."

"I can understand that." Flack said.

"I know we're polar opposites, " Adam continued. "But now that we have something in common..."

Flack nodded. "Lead the way, Adam." he said.

* * *

Samantha and The Sarge were at a quiet, quaint Italian place three blocks from the lab. The kind of place with white linen tablecloths and a candle in the centrepiece and wait staff that wore crisp tuxedos. Completely unlike a place either of them would frequent.

Sarge watched his daughter closely over the rim of his water glass as she sipped at a glass of red wine and barely glanced at her food.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night?" Sam asked.

"You need to eat." he replied sternly. "You're gettin' way too skinny. Need some weight on your bones. You must be starving after the day you had."

Sam didn't even realize that she had hardly touched the expensive meal. She took a sip of wine and dug into a plate of shrimp fettuccine Alfredo.

"I want to know what's going on with you and this boy." The Sarge said.

"Dad, please do not call him that. He's a man. And he has a name. His name is Don. Not boy or kid or even detective. Not hey you. Don. So please.. he deserves some sort of respect."

The Sarge sipped his water. "So what is going on between you and this cop?"

Sam sighed exasperatedly."Dad..."

"Whatever his name is, what's going on between the two of you? I know you're with him. I saw the two of you leave together two days ago and arrive together last night."

"Oh wonderful." Sam grumbled. "Now you're stalking me."

"I'm keeping an eye on you in this big, bad city." he corrected her.

"Well I'm fine. I'm perfectly safe. Especially now that Zack is in jail."

"Why'd you lie to me? About going to a friend's house?"

"What did you want me to say, Dad? Hey, I've got a new boyfriend and I'm going to his place? Or did you want me to say, hey dad, I'm going to have sex with said boyfriend." she angrily speared a shrimp with her fork.

"So you are intimately involved with him."

"Yes. I am. I'm thirty years old and I'm having sex. Making love. Whatever you want to call it. And you know what? I love it. It's amazing. He's amazing. In every sense of the word."

"Happened a little quick don't you think?"

Sam jabbed furiously at her food. "It happened. Things just happened. God works in mysterious ways. I didn't come here expecting this. To fall in love with someone. I came here to get away. To heal. And something unexpected and wonderful happened. As soon as I met him, I knew there was something different. There's something different about him."

"In what way?" The Sarge asked.

"He's a great guy, Dad. He's funny and smart and makes me laugh even when I don't think I have anything to laugh about. He makes me feel like I'm the only thing that matters to him. When he looks at me... when he looks at me, I trust him. And I feel more for him than I've ever felt for anyone. You just see him as a cop. Lump him in the same category as Zack. He is nothing like Zack."

"He's still a cop." The Sarge pointed out.

"Not all cops are dirt bags, Dad. Don is an amazing cop but he's an even better human being. And he loves me."

"Is that what he told you?"

"He has. But I don't need him to tell me. I see it in his eyes. I feel it when he touches me.'

"Do you love him?"

"More than I ever thought I could love anyone." Sam declared. "And that's why I have to defend him. Because he's a great guy who treats me good and makes me feel special and safe and protected. And I think you really need to give him a chance. If you gave him a chance, you'd see. You'd really like him."

The Sarge snorted. "I liked Zack at first, too."

Sam slammed her cutlery down on her plate. "Don is nothing like Zack and don't ever put him and that sonofabitch in the same thought together!"

"Calm down, sweetie."

"I won't calm down! I'm not going to sit here and let you bad mouth him, Dad! Not after everything he's done for me. He was there for me when I needed someone."

"So you feel sleeping with him is a suitable form of repayment?"

Sam tossed her napkin down on her plate and jumped up. "I've had enough." she said.

The Sarge grabbed her wrist as she passed the table. "Sit down."

"You can't boss me anymore. I'm a big girl. I'm making a life for myself. And I want Don in that life. And I'm sorry if you can't accept that. I really am. But..."

She was interrupted by her cell ringing. She opened her purse and pulled it out. "I have to take this." she said.

"You're in the middle of dinner." The Sarge reminded her.

"The job never stops, Dad. I'll be back in a few minutes. And if you haven't changed your mind by then, I am walking out of here and who know where you and I stand."

"Samantha..."

" Just give him a chance. Please." she pleaded and headed off the answer her phone.

* * *

Flack stood outside of Sullivan's, cell phone pressed to his ear. The other guys were all ready inside, ordering drinks.

"You sound upset." he said when she answered.

"Just another wonderful father and daughter argument." she sighed.

"About?" As if he really needed to ask.

"I'll tell you later." she replied.

"Why didn't you call me and tell me you were leaving?" Flack asked. "I thought something was wrong."

"I'm fine." she assured him. "And we needed some time away from each other."

He sighed, not liking the sound of that. "Is this going to happen a lot?" he asked. "You deciding you need time apart?"

"No. But you were really stressed with this case and you were biting my head off and I was getting nasty back and that's not good for any relationship. I didn't want us saying things we couldn't take back."

"You're right." he agreed.

"Excuse me? Can you repeat that? I want you to say it louder. So I can store it away for prosperity."

He laughed. "Don't push it. Is everything okay? With us?"

"Is there a reason it shouldn't be?" she countered.

"I love you, you know." he told her.

"I know. And I love you, too."

"If you're back at the apartment before me, I'm just out with Danny, Speed, Hawkes and your brother. I shouldn't be too late."

"I hope not. All the adrenaline from today? I need a release."

He smirked. "I'll take care of that for you." he said.

She laughed. "I bet."

* * *

"Everything okay?" Danny asked as Flack joined them a table at the back of the crowded cop bar. The table top all ready crowded with pitchers of beer and glasses.

"Everything's fine." he replied as he sat down and poured himself a beer.

"Lovers quarrel?" Speed asked.

"Don't talk." Flack said. "I heard you had one of those today yourself."

"Well you heard wrong." Speed informed him.

"You and Devine weren't scraping it out earlier? About you not being able to deal with the fact she was married?"

"It's not because she was married." Speed corrected him. "It's because of who she was married to. You like the idea of your girl being with a Pelham Bay guy?'

"She was fifteen." Flack said. "A long time before I ever came into the picture. What she did back then is her business. Not mine. and when did you and Devine hook up anyway?"

"We did not hook up." Speed insisted. "We went for coffee."

"But you're interested." Flack said, sipping his beer.

"Who wouldn't be? Look at her."

"I don't blame you one bit." Adam said. "Carmen is smokin' hot."

They all stared at him.

"Well she is." he said. "And I'd think Sam is smokin' hot too if she wasn't my sister. Can't find your sister hot. That's just to weird. I mean, she is hot. But its kinda sick if..."

"Okay, Adam." Danny interrupted him. "We get it. And to add my two cents, I have a date tomorrow night."

"With my cousin?" Adam asked.

"If you say Monroe, I am jumping over this table and beating the shit out of you." Speed informed Danny.

"With Adam's cousin." Danny assured them all. "Linds and I are done."

"Since when?" Hawkes asked.

"Well I haven't exactly told her yet..."

"Fuck Messer." Flack said. "Grow some fucking balls all ready."

"That coming from a guy whose rich bitch ex all but carried his around in her Gucci purse? Fuck you, Flack. You just got yours back before Sam came along."

"Everybody must get balls!" Adam exclaimed.

"Never mind you and Kendall!" Danny told him.

"Kendall and I are over. Kaput."

"Since when?" Danny asked.

"Today. No biggie. It was all about sex anyway."

Flack nearly choked on his beer.

"Speaking of sex." Speed said to Flack. "Shouldn't you be off having sex right now in a squad car or an interrogation room or in one of the labs?"

"That's later." Flack told him.

"Dude!" Adam complained. "You are talking about my sister!"

"Can I help it if your sister is a nympho?"

"Enough!" Adam cried "Enough!"

"Guess you don't want to see the bite mark on his neck." Danny said.

"Or the scratches on his back." Speed added.

"What can I say?" asked Flack. "She is a vicious little thing.'

"Lucky bastard!" Danny said. "She's gonna cuff ya to the bed one day. Trust me!"

"She can go right ahead." Flack said.

"I am going to be sick." Adam declared.

Hawkes moved the pitcher away. "Just not in the beer." he said.

"Relax!" Speed told the lab tech. "He's not corrupting your sister."

"Much." Danny said.

They all laughed.

"You know, Flack," Hawkes said. "I was a little shocked that you weren't upset about me taking Samantha out next week."

"Excuse me?" the homicide detective asked.

"You know. Taking her out to the theatre and dinner."

"Come again?" Flack asked.

"You didn't know?" Hawkes asked.

"No wonder he didn't freak." Speed said, taking a swig of beer. "Shoulda known better, Hawkes. Its Flack."

"It's strictly as a friend." Hawkes assured Flack. "A night out doing things she likes. That she's interested in."

"Oh come on," Danny said. "Like you wouldn't try anything if you got the chance!"

"I would have if Flack and her hadn't have been together." Hawkes admitted.

"Come on." Danny said. "She's hot. I'd still try. It's only Flack."

"Well unlike you," Hawkes said. "I think another guy's woman is off limits. Flack, if you have a problem with it, I can cancel."

"What's the big issue?" Speed asked. "Let the girl have some fun."

"I kinda like the idea of me being the one she has fun with." Flack replied.

"I think she all ready gets enough of that fun." Speed said.

"I wasn't talking about that!"

"I can cancel." Hawkes offered.

"Don't be so goddamn jealous." Speed said. "You're possessive, Flack."

"That's rich coming from you! You're that way over a woman you're not even with! You and Devine can barely keep away from each other! What's the issue? Afraid to make a move. Here..." Flack pulled out his phone. "I'll even start things off for you."

"What the fuck are you doing?" Speed asked.

"Relax, Speedle. It'll be painless."

"Flack," Carmen's irritated voice. "This better be good. I was just getting ready to slip into a hot bath."

"Speed wants to know if he can slip into it with you."

"What?"

"You heard me." Flack said.

"Only if he agrees to scrub my back."

"It can be arranged."

Carmen snorted. "Goodbye, Flack."

"Wait! I'm serious!"

"So am I. Tell him to be here in half an hour with some wine and I'll consider it.'

"I can have him there in twenty." Flack vowed.

"I won't be all nice and clean in twenty."

"Who cares?" Flack asked. "You'll only be dirty again once he's finished with you."

"Flack..."

"See ya in twenty." he hung up. "Drink up, lover boy." he said to Speed. "Got a hot date in twenty."

The entire table roared with laughter.

"Remind me to kill you." Speed said.

* * *

Carmen stood at her doorway in a pink terry cloth bathrobe, glaring at the two men on her doorstep.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"You said have him here and he's here." Flack responded.

"I thought you guys were joking." she said.

"Bad mistake on your part." Flack said and shoved Speed through the open door. "Have fun! Don't forget safe sex!" he tossed Speed a condom from his wallet. Winked at the two of them and shut the door.

Speed rubbed at the back of his head uneasily. "Hey..." he said.

Carmen tightened her robe. "Hey."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea he was serious. Not that I didn't want to see you tonight. I did. Just you said you were coming home to relax so I decided to go out with the guys."

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, eyes brightening.

He nodded. "I like you, Carmen. A lot. And I'm not sure where this is going to lead but I'm sure, at this moment, of how I feel. And I feel there's something between us and if nearly dying back in Miami taught me anything, it was to seize the moment. And you and I? It's one I can pass up."

"I don't know how much of myself I can give you." she told him.

"Little bit at a time is fine with me." Speed told her with a smile.

She smiled as well, then moved closer to him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him passionately. His arms went around her waist as he kissed her back. He was warm and his muscles were hard under her hands and against her body and his kiss was so good. She moaned into his mouth when his tongue hungrily found her's.

"The water is still hot." she said, when his lips found her neck and his hands wandered her body through her robe.

"Why don't we worry about that later." Speed said and untied her robe and peeled it off of her and let it drop the the floor. "Wow." he said, admiring her body, his hands sliding over her silky curves.

Carmen yanked his shirt over his head, took in his body as well. "Wow." she agreed. Her finer tips traced over the scar on his chest. She leaned into hiim and pressed her lips to it, kissing his collarbone and neck as she reached for his belt buckle.

"You don't believe in wastin' time, do you." Speed said.

"Seize the day, right? Well I'm seizing it." she slipped her hand down his pants, lightly squeezing his impressive erection.

"I think we should take this to the bedroom." Speed said in a hoarse voice.

"I think you're right." she agreed.

* * *

Flack was feeling a little tipsy from the full pitcher he'd polished off in twenty minutes at Sullivan's. When he let himself into the darkened apartment, the radio was on and the balcony door was partially opened. Sam's shoes by the front door and the spare keys on the counter.

She was outside on one of the patio chairs with a cooler, reading a book by candlelight.

"Hey." he greeted from the doorway.

She looked over and smiled. "Hey. I thought you'd be later."

"I just wanted to come home." he said and stepped out onto the balcony. He leaned down to kiss her. "I was hoping you'd be here. And here you are. What ya doing?"

"Just reading the new Dean Koontz Stella loaned me." she slipped a book mark into her spot and sat the book and the cooler on the ground. "I'm glad you're home early." she said.

"Yeah?" he moved the other chair next to her's and sat down, close enough so he could put his arm aruond her. "So am I."

She leaned her head against his shoulder and laid her hand on his stomach. "I want you to know that I know about Dean Truby." she said.

Flack cleared his throat and tensed a little. "Angell told you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me." he said. "I wanted to tell you when I was ready."

"Don, I want you to know that while I don't know every detail about what went down during that raid, I know that you'd never do anything like that. Be part of something like that. You respect the badge too much. And I want to tell you that I think you did the right thing. Because you never could have lived with yourself knowing what he did.'

Flack tightened his arm around her and kissed her head. "God I love you." he said.

"You were expecting a different reaction?"

"I was worried the reaction wouldn't be so pleasant." he admitted.

"We may not always agree on cases," she said. "but I'll always support you. I need you to know that. And that you can tell me things like this."

"Okay. So when were you going to tell me about you and Hawkes?"

"There is no me and Hawkes. He's just my friend and it's just dinner and a show."

"But you were going to tell me, right?"

"Of course I was. When it got closer to the time."

"I don't blame you for being interested in him. He's intelligent, cultured..."

"He is just my friend." she insisted. "And you reek of beer. How many did you have?"

"Just a pitcher."

"You're just a little drunk." she said, rubbing his stomach and standing up. "Come on, let's go to bed.

"I am not drunk. I am tipsy. There's a difference." he told her and stood up and swayed slightly.

"Mm-hm. What you need is to go to bed." she informed him.

He grabbed her by the hips and backed her up against the railing. "What I need is to be inside of you," he said. "Feel myself inside of you."

"Don... you're drunk."

"I am not drunk." he insisted and began kissing her neck. "I want you so bad. I need to fuck you so bad." he shoved his hand down the front of her pyjama pants. A finger finding her clit and rubbing it firmly. "You're all ready so fucking wet," he groaned into her neck after a few minutes of masturbating her. "You drive me crazy to think I do that to you."

"Don... seriously.. let's go inside and ..."she cried out when he roughly slipped two fingers inside of her.

"Right here, right now." he said and his other hand yanked her shirt over her head, trapping it behind her neck. He palmed her breasts, took one nipple into his mouth and sucked at it hard. Just like she liked it.

Her hands found his belt and undid it quickly, snapping open the button and pulling down the zipper. She yanked his pants and his boxers down, letting them fall to his ankles. He did the same with her pyjama bottoms.

"You are so beautiful." he said, kissing her eyes, her nose, then her lips. "I'm just glad you belong to me."

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. Holding her ass, he thrust into her abruptly.

"Oh God..." she moaned, biting her lip to spare the neighbours the noise. "Don... oh God..."

"You feel so good." he said hoarsely, his eyes darkening as he drove into her. There was a darkness in him, a pain that only diminished when he was near her. "I need you, Samantha... so bad..."

Her heart clenched. "Don..."

As if sensing and understanding the emotional upheaval those words had caused, he picked up the pace of his thrust, concentrating on making her come. She cried out his name and clung to him as she orgasmed, tightening her inner muscles around him.

He came powerfully, saying her name, his cock buried deep inside of her. She watched his eyes all the while, seeing the depth of trust and love in them. She kissed him as he spasmed inside of her. Held his face in her hands and kissed his forehead, his eyes, his nose. Each cheek. His chin. His lips.

"I'll always need you, Samantha." he vowed, looking deep in her eyes. "Always."

**Okay, I know I said Linds meets her Waterloo in this chap. I made a mistake. It's the next one. I promise.**

**Big thankies to all of you reading and reviewing! Keep it up! Please!!**


	28. Chapter 28

**ME NO OWN, YOU NO SUE KAPISH?**

**Breaking up and hooking up**

"I can't take it any longer

but my will is getting stronger

and I think I know just what I have to do

I can't waste another minute

after all that I've put in it

I've given you my best."

-Stay, Sugarland

* * *

It was well after one in the morning when Danny got off the elevator on his floor. After Flack had taken off to drop Speed off at Carmen's place, and to probably go home and get himself some, Danny had stuck around for a little while longer with Hawkes and Adam. Downing beers, playing some pool, talking about things other than work. Surprisingly enough, Danny found Adam a fun guy to hang around with outside of the lab. He was quirky and boisterous and could hold a hell of a lot of booze. If he'd had known Adam was that cool of a guy, he would given the lab tech a chance at friendship a long time ago.

After he left the bar, he decided to grab two coffees and instead of heading home, headed uptown on the subway to Cedars Sinai and surprised Erica who was working the night shift up in ICU. She was surprised to see him, but the look on her face told him she wasn't disappointed. Nor did the fact she took a half hour break to spend time with him, and let him kiss her goodbye when it was time for her to head back. They cemented their plans for their date the following night and he headed home.

He was tired and yawning yet feeling pleased with the direction his life was taking when he stepped off the elevator on his floor. Talking on his cell with Erica. She'd called to make sure he got home okay and to say she was looking forward to their date. That pleased feeling inside of him was short lived when he stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar face sitting alongside his apartment door.

"I gotta go." he said into the phone. "I'll see you tomorrow. Seven sharp. Your place. All right. Sweet dreams." he hung up the phone and took a deep breath and prepared to face the end.

"Who was that?" Lindsay asked, looking up at him from her seat on the floor.

"Someone I met." Danny replied simply.

"A girl, you mean?"

"A woman." he corrected. "What are you doing here, Lindsay?"

"Whatever happened to Montana?" she asked, reaching for his hand to get herself onto her feet. "I miss that."

"Those days are long gone." Danny replied, taking his hand back when she held onto it longer than necessary.

Lindsay's eyes darkened and her face fell. "You don't mean that." she said.

"I do. With every ounce of my soul. We need to talk, Lindsay. Right here, right now. This has been coming for a long while."

"Well can we go inside?" she asked. "Talk there?"

"No. We can't. That's long gone, too. You being in my place."

She shook her head. "You don't..."

"Mean it? I meant it. More than I've ever meant anything. I can't do this anymore. Go back and forth like this. Let you manipulate my feelings. Use them against me. To get whatever you want. You've always done that. Give me the time of day when you're feeling like it. You stood me up that night a year or so ago and that should have been that right there."

"Danny, I..."

He held up his hand to stop her from saying anything. "I was weak. I admit it. I was lonely and weak and looking for something that wasn't really there. I fooled myself into thinking me and you had something.'

"We did." she argued. "We do."

"Please... let me get all of this out! I went all the way to Montana for you. To be by your side for that trial. I never once asked for a thank you or for anything in return. That day in the warehouse? When Adam and I were beaten so bad and we didn't think we'd make it out of there, you turned around and made it all about you! 'I'm sorry, you weren't suppose to be here, you took my shift'? What the hell was that about? Made me feel even worse! And the way you snapped at Flack after he busted his ass to get us outta there! He was getting me an EMS for fuck sakes and you shit all over him!"

"Danny, I never realized..."

"And when Rueben died!" Danny kept his voice down to spare Rikki down the hall running any risk of hearing talk of her dead son. It was the last thing she needed to deal with. "When he died where were you? Nowhere around! You didn't even attempt to be around! And when Rikki stole my gun, you jumped to all the wrong conclusions that I was up to something! That I was goin' after Ollie Barnes! You didn't even try to get the truth!"

"Danny..."

"And now all of this lying and gossiping you've been doing! About Sam and Flack? They don't deserve that! They just want to be happy and you're trying to wreck that! And tellig people about Carmen and Tanglewood? I don't even know you anymore! You're not Montana. You're not even Lindsay Monroe. I have no idea who you are."

Tears spilled down her face. "I'm sorry, Danny..."

"Me, too. It's over. I've met someone I think I'm gonna really care about. I'm going on with my life. Me and you? It's dead. Gone. It's never coming back."

Danny stepped past her and unlocked his door.

"Danny!" she cried, clutching desperately at his clothes. "I love you! Please don' t do this! Danny, please!"

"I have to." he said and slipped into his apartment, closing the door quickly in her face and locking it.

"You don't mean this!" she screamed, fists banging on the wood. "Open the door! You don't mean this! DANNY!"

"Goodbye, Montana." he said and turned his back and walked away.

* * *

The rain had stopped its assault on the city sometime during the early morning hours. The wind had died down and sunshine attempted to peek out from between thick gray cloud. The sky was beginning to transform into a pale shade of blue.

Sam's eyes flickered open slowly. Her body still tingling from head to toe after the the night and early morning that she had been subjected to. From being pleasured so often and so intensely that it was mind blowing. To be with someone that was so attentive and unselfish as compared to someone who only worried about their own needs, was a welcome and relieving change. Until Don, she had no idea how amazing any form of sex could be. And now it was if they just couldn't stop. Like a couple of teenagers being ruled by their hormones. Not that she was complaining. Far from it.

She was lying on her stomach, face turned to the side, looking at Flack as he slept soundly beside her on his side, his arm loosely draped over her back. He looked like a little boy when he was asleep, his long dark eyelashes falling on pale cheeks, a soft gentle smile on his lips. Not someone who'd spent years of his young life listening to gut wrenching stories and nausea inducing confessions, seeing the worst of evils and dealing with the lowest of the lows.

She rolled over onto her side and moved closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. His face was scratchy from morning stubble. It didn't bother her. She found it sexy and masculine and devastatingly rugged. She kissed the hallow of his throat and laid her hand on his side.

His arm tightened around her, drawing he flush against him, his leg coming over top of hers.

"Good morning." he said without opening his eyes, his voice tired.

"Good morning. Did you sleep good?"

He nodded. "For all of what? Two or three hours?"

She lifted herself up to check the watch on his right wrist. "It's eight thirty. So you managed four and a half hours." she snuggled back into his warm body.

"Four and a half hours and I was up for what? Just over twenty four hours? You'll be the death of me woman."

"At least you'll go happy." she enthused. "Very, very, very happy." she punctuated every maybe with a kiss to different spots on his neck.

"We gotta get up in a half an hour." he said with a yawn.

"I'm not doing anything." she protested.

"Yes," he grinned. "You are."

"You're very easy to get all worked up." she laughed.

"I just think of you even half naked and I'm done."

"Best be keeping those thoughts out of your brain at work, then. That would not be good."

"Not good at all." he agreed. "Mind you, the sex in the squad thing? I gotta admit that's one of my fantasies."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Something about it. The thought of you doing things to me in a place that off limits. It's a turn on."

"Well maybe one day, I'll surprise you." she said.

Flack just smiled.

"You know, I've never even made out in a car never mind had actual sex in one." she told him.

"You serious? Never? Not even as a teenager?"

"Never." she insisted.

"You have lived a sheltered life."

He thought about the words he'd just said and about everything she'd suffered through as a child and with Zack, and immediately felt like the biggest prick on the face of the earth. His eyes snapped open.

"I am such an asshole." he declared.

"Don..."

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Don, I know. I can take a joke you know. You don't have to watch every word you say. I'm not fragile.'

"I know. I just think about what you've been through and it bothers me. Really bothers me."

She pulled back and kissed him. "Then don't think about it." she said.

"I'll try." he said with a sigh.

"In fact." she kissed him long and deep, slid her hand around to his chest and down his stomach and lower. "Don't think at all."

"We have to get up soon." he reminded her.

"It'll only be five minutes."

"Five minutes? Are you kidding me? I'll try not to be insulted. When has it only lasted five minutes. Half hour is the shortest yet."

Sam checked his watch again and the pushed him onto his back. "We better get started then." she said.

* * *

They had agreed to meet Carmen for a late eleven o'clock breakfast at the TGIF's in lower Manhattan. Flack had offered to come and check out apartments with them. It was his first of three off in a row and could always catch up on well deserved sleep another time. His main priority was to spend as much time with his girlfriend as possible. There were times the job would have to come first and they wouldn't be on the same shifts so he planned to make any time off together worth while.

Not to mention the girls liked the idea of having a chaffuer cart them around the city.

They sat side by side in a booth near the back. Close enough so that their knees and their shoulders were pressed up against each other. He couldn't stop touching her. He hoped he would never want to stop.

"Hey, guys." Carmen greeted cheerfully, finding them easily in the sparse crowd.

They looked up. Carmen had an ear to ear grin that suggested she'd been treated like a goddess and then some all night. And beside her was unshaven, dishevelled and slightly embarrassed looking Tim Speedle.

Sam arched her eyebrows in surprise. "Hi..." she said, wondering what in the hell was going on.

Flack hid his 'that's my boy' grin behind his coffee mug.

"I need coffee." Speed announced as he and Carmen slid onto the bench across from other couple. "Lots of it."

"Join the club." Flack said. "She kept you up all night, huh?"

Speed yawned and excused himself and rubbed at his weary face. "'Til four thirty." he admitted.

Carmen blushed and leaned into him, elbowing him gently.

"That was not a complaint." he assured her, putting his arm across back of the seat, his hand on her shoulder as he kissed the side of her head.

Sam's eyes widened ever further. Is this a Twilight Zone moment or what? she thought.

"What happened?" Flack asked. "She go all school teacher on you?"

"Yep." Speed replied. "And if I had school teachers like that I would have bent them over the desk and..."

Sam held up a hand for him to stop right there. "Tim! Enough! Don't ruin my appetite."

"Like your Miss Innocent." Speed said.

Flack snorted. "Nothing innocent about her. Trust me. And I was up 'til four so don't feel too bad. And no, Sam, that was not a complaint."

"I was going to say, you were not complaining at three in the morning. Those were not complaints coming out of your mouth."

Flack smiled and kissed her cheek and ran a hand over the back of her hair, resting it on the small of her back.

Carmen smiled. They make a cute couple, she thought. He's so big and powerful looking and she's so small and delicate. Too complete opposites yet so obviously in love.

"Flack," she said. "every time I see you in street clothes I can't believe your the same person. You look totally different out of a suit and a tie. You're actually kinda cute."

"As opposed to what?" he asked "Being ugly all the rest of the times?"

"You are far from ugly, trust me. You just look different. Younger. Especially in the baseball cap. Like a college jock."

"Yeah? Well..." he pulled off the Rangers cap and tossed it beside him on the bench. "my grey hair puts that notion to rest."

"Run in your family?" Carmen asked. "You're young to be going grey."

"It's just a by product of stress and re-hab and physio that comes after being blown up and having your stomach nearly torn out of your body. Not to mention all the meds."

"Heard about that." Speed said. "Cop getting caught in a blast. That was you?'

"Unfortunately." Flack sighed.

"Jesus." Carmen shook her head. "How is it now?"

"Well, I gotta get regular immunizations because they took my spleen out and a part of my kidney, and I nearly became addicted to oxycontin, but my back can not predict the weather. I can tell by how bad the pain is if its going to rain or snow. And I came out of the entire thing with a nice souvenir."

He stood up and lifted up the bottom of his shirt to show them the scar. Sam had gotten him over the shame he felt about it.

"Shit, Flack!" Carmen exclaimed.

"I thought mine was bad." Speed said. "You are lucky to be alive, my friend. And that's coming from a guy that knows what it's like to be lucky to be alive."

A waitress came with two extra menus and two large carafes of coffee.

"You guys hear the news?" Flack asked, scanning his menu.

"About Zack being sent back to Arizona today?" Carmen asked. "Stella sent Tim a text message about an hour ago. And told him to expect to go to Arizona soon."

"Oh happy day." Speed sighed.

"I mean the really, really big news." Flack said. "Mac gave us a call this morning. He didn't call you guys?"

Carmen shook her head.

"Lindsay quit." Flack told them.

Sam clapped her hands excitedly.

Carmen nearly dropped her coffee cup. "What? When?"

"She left a message on his voice mail around four in the morning." Flack said. "Cleaned her locker out and everything. She's going back to Kentucky."

"Montana." Sam corrected, sipping a tea.

"Whatever. A wheat field is a wheat field. The point is, she's gone."

"I plan on throwing a Ding Dong the witch is dead party." Sam announced.

Carmen and Speed laughed.

"Don't laugh." Flack said. "She's serious. She plans on trashing my apartment."

"Does Danny know?" Speed asked.

"That's the best part!" Sam enthused. "He's the reason she quit! He called us this morning too and said Lindsay was waiting at his place when he got home last night! Trifling bitch!"

"He told her in not so many words what a bitch she is." Flack said. "And that he didn't want to be with her anymore and he'd met someone else."

"She quit over Danny?" Carmen asked.

"Like I said!" Sam exclaimed. "Trifling bitch!"

"Can't believe she's gone." Carmen said.

"My life has never been so complete!" Sam enthused. "Bye-bye, see ya! Don't send me a post card."

"You're harsh." Flack told her. "You call me harsh but you're much worse."

"I wonder why..."

"So what happens now?" Speed asked. "Mac has to hire someone else?"

"He's gonna see how it goes with what he has for a few months." Flack replied.

"Over time!" Sam said. "Doubles and triples! I'll be able to buy those Manola Blanik shoes I saw on the way here!"

Flack rolled his eyes. "Shoes. The woman and her shoes. We parked a couple blocks away and passed by the store and she's been going on about the shoes ever since."

"What they look like?" Carmen asked.

"The price tag said six hundred." Flack exclaimed.

"What did they look like?" Carmen repeated.

"Cute little kitten heels!" Sam told her. "Black leather, pink stitching, peep toe."

"Six hundred!" Flack said. "For a pair of shoes!"

"I do not expect you to understand." Sam told him.

"Just pay for them." Speed said.

Sam laughed. "Exactly! See! Tim gets it!"

"You want to shell out six hundred on a pair of shoes, either buy 'em yourself or get a sugar daddy." Flack said.

"You mean that? 'Cause I have a few near death richies that are interested in the job."

"How about I say no." Flack said.

Speed shook his head. "A woman who can go from wielding a gun to wearing designer clothes. You are a strange, wee person, Mouse."

"I am my own woman." she declared.

"Yes," Flack agreed. "You are."

"He loves me." Sam told the others. "He really does."

"I tolerate you." he corrected her and kissed her cheek.

"Rent a goddamn room." Speed complained.

"You off all day?" Carmen asked Flack.

"I'm off 'til Monday. Not even on call."

"How in hell did you manage that?" Speed asked. "We go back on call tomorrow."

"Over time." Flack replied. "Pulled in over hundred and eighty hours in two weeks. Gerrard is not happy."

"The man is a total ass." Sam declared. "He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you." Flack corrected. "He just isn't on the same page as you."

"He hates me." Sam told the others. "He told Don I was nothing but trouble."

"You are." Speed said and Sam tossed a sugar package at him.

"That's assault on a police officer." Speed teased.

"What are you going to do? Arrest me? Cuff me! Too late!" Sam held out her wrists. "Look! Look at the bruises!"

"You should have told me they were too tight." Flack said.

"I was a little distracted at the time!"

Speed held out his own bruised wrists. "Then she lost the keys." he said.

"Hey!" Carmen exclaimed. "I found them... eventually.'

"Devine," Flack shook his head. "You're bad. You two are dirty, dirty girls. One likes to be the perp, the other likes to be the cop.'

"Why do we let them use and abuse us?" Speed wondered aloud.

"It's better than not being used at all." Flack reasoned.

* * *

They walked to their first scheduled apartment viewing. Speed and Flack walked ahead. Speed talking about Miami and the differences in the people he worked with and in the two labs themselves.

"I'm happy for you, Carmen." Sam said as the two girls walked side by side."Tim's a really nice guy. You guys seem good together."

"I'm happy." Carmen told her. "For the first time in a long time. But we're taking things slow. One day at a time. I'm not ready for anything more than that and I don't think he is either. And I'm glad him and Flack are getting along so well. Guess its those dry, sarcastic mouths they both have."

"I guess." Sam said and stopped at a store front to peer in the window.

Speed turned and walked backwards. "Come on, ladies! Window shop later!"

"Keep her away from any place that sells shoes or purses!" Flack instructed.

"We'll catch up!" Carmen said. "Turn back around Speedle. I was checking out the view!"

He grinned and shook his head and turned back around.

Carmen stepped up beside her friend. "You okay, Sam? You don't seem like yourself all of sudden. You take your meds this morning? You know if you don't take them you get mood swings."

"I took them. I just... I'm worried."

"About?"

"How do I know that this isn't just a sex thing? That he isn't just saying things 'cause he knows its what I want to hear?"

"Do I have to hit you upside the head? That guy is madly and crazily in love with you, Sam. I see it every time he so as much looks at you. And I know a lot of this self doubt comes from things in your past. But you dealt with that past better than most people ever could. You're a strong girl, but please, let someone else take care of you for a change. You deserve to be happy and in love and be loved. And I know that Flack loves the hell out of you."

Sam sighed. "I hope you're right."

"You know I am."

Sam looked down the sidewalk at Flack. He and Speed had stopped to give the girls a chance to catch up. He felt her looking at him and turned and winked at her before going back to his conversation.

"How do you feel about him?" Carmen asked her friend.

"I love him. Plain and simple. It feels right. Like this is where I belong. In New York, with him. He makes me feel whole and I've never felt that before."

"So quit second guessing yourself. And him." Carmen said.

"I'm scared it's going to get to the point where I feel like I can't live without him."

"Sam, loving someone that much is not a bad thing. I think people who have that are blessed. You've met this man that you can rely on always. It's a rarity to find that. And you did. Someone that makes you feel complete. It's a love we all wish we had but seldom find."

Sam smiled.

"You and Flack have that." Carmen told her. "I think you two are going to go the distance. Trust me, ten years from now, when you've popped a couple of his kids out, you'll be wondering why you ever doubted him."

"Whoa!" Sam laughed. "Kids? Slow down!"

"Face it girl," Carmen said as they began walking once more. "That is the father of your children right there."

"I can see that." Sam sighed. "And that's freaking me out."

"Give it a couple years and I guarantee you two will have one on the way. If not a little sooner. And you guys will have some seriously attractive kids."

Sam smiled. "Dark hair and blue eyes." she said.

"And your freckles. Destined to be cops."

"I'd rather them be anything but." Sam admitted.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have many years with them before you have to discourage them from it."

* * *

"You are so not living here." Flack said to Sam, as they stood in the spacious living room of the second apartment they visited.

The first one had been run down and way too small for two women with all their belongings to live in. Not to mention Speed commented on the smell of decomp.

The second, as nice as it was and had lots of space and hard wood and cove cielings and was in their price range, was out of the question. The manager showed up in a soiled under shirt and even more soiled track pants and told the girls he'd be willing to give them a discount on the rent.

"I bet you ten to one he's all ready planning on drilling peep holes in the wall." Speed said to Flack.

"I knew there was something up when he mentioned he'd drop the rent a little." Flack said.

"Would you stop?" Sam sighed exasperatedly. "Not every weird guy is out to get me!"

"Come on, Mouse." Speed said. "He's more than a little weird. Did you see the stains on that guy's pants?"

Carmen laughed. "Mr Trace expert on the look out for trace! Go figure!"

"Well we have to live somewhere!" Sam said as they all left the apartment.

"There's still one more place." Carmen reminded her.

Flack took Sam's hand. "Do me a favor? Make sure wherever you live all the guys know your boyfriend carries a gun."

"Oh for christsakes, Flack!" Carmen snorted. "We carry guns too."

"Never mind the gun." Speed said. "Just tell them how big your boyfriend is. He's a fucking big boy. And besides, it's our duty to serve and protect you two."

Carmen laughed and put her arm around Speed's waist and pulled him towards her. "In that case, you can start by..."

"No turning this into an x-rated conversation Devine!" Flack scolded her.

She pouted dramatically. "You two never let me have any fun. Sam's more easy going. Watch it or I'll steal her off of you, Flack."

"Carmen," Sam said as they waited for the elevator. "If I was to ever go that way, you would be my first choice as a lover."

Flack and Speed nearly sprained their necks looking over at their girlfriends so quickly.

"I'm honored." Carmen gushed. "You too. Me and you could have a pretty wild time together."

"I bet. If Tim has no complaints, I doubt I would either."

Speed and Flack looked at each other.

"Is it wrong I am totally turned on by this conversation?" Speed asked.

* * *

They ended up taking the last and final apartment on their list. A spacious, bright and cherry two bedroom, two bath on the tenth floor with wall to wall carpeting and floor to ceiling windows in the living room and a massive, ultra modern kitchen. A little above waht they wanted to spend, but a quick reworking of the budget by Speed and the girls were satisfied they could swing it and manage to eat. Not like the guys would ever let them go without anything.

Sam cut a cheque from her VISA account for a deposit on first and last and the landlord set up a move in date for two months down the road. He was an elderly gentleman who passed the Speedle/Flack perv test with flying colours.

It wasn't until they were leaving that Flack became aware that the building his girlfriend was planning on moving into, had once been a crime scene. It was the same building Stella had lived in when she was attacked by Frankie Mala. The crazy ex boyfriend who'd seemed like a mild mannered artist until he made a porn site of the two of them than went all OJ Simpson when she dumped him. Flack kept all of that to himself. Especially the part of Stella killing him in the end. Sam's paranoia chip would just kick in and she'd never sleep properly once she moved in and have him check every weird noise or bump in the dark. It was best to just keep his mouth shut. Even out of respect for Stella. If she wanted the others to know, she'd tell them.

"What did you think?" Carmen asked Speed, as they walked hand in hand. It had surprised her when he'd just grabbed her hand like it was the most normal thing in the world. But not nearly as surprised as when he kissed her while waiting for the light to change at a cross walk.

"I think you'll have lots of good times there." he said.

"Just me?"

He smiled and pulled her into him and kissed her temple. "Us." he said.

She smiled as well and dropped his hand in favor of putting her arm around his waist.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked Flack, as he unlocked the front passenger's door on his black GMC Yukon SUV.

"I was thinking about how hungry I am."

She laughed. "Sex, food and sleep. Your three main staples."

"Food is first. 'Cause without it, I don't have the energy to give you the second."

"That would be a damn shame." she giggled and climbed into her seat.

He shut the door and went around to the driver's side.

"What I was really thinking about," he said as he got behind the wheel. was how with Carmen around, I won't have to worry so much about you."

"So much or as much?" she teased. "Don, you are incapable of stopping the way you worry about me."

"I just got you," he said. "I'm not ready to give you back yet."

She smiled and leaned across the seat to kiss him. "I knew you loved me." she said.

"Like there's a doubt?" he asked and kissed her softly.

She yanked off his hat and tossed it onto the dash in order to get closer to him and deepen and intensify the kiss. "You know what I think?" she asked, her fingers toying on the hem of his t-shirt.

He shook his head.

"I think we need to get you some food so you'll have lots of energy."

"I think that's the best thing you've said all day." he declared.

Speed honked the horn of Carmen's car as they drove past. She smiled brightly and waved to them. Then leaned across the seat to plant a kiss on his cheek.

And as each girl went their separate way with the men that would shape their futures, they felt for the first tie that they were ridiculously happy. And whole.

And in love.

**Much love and thankies to everyone that is reading, enjoying and reviewing. Much appreciated!!**


	29. Chapter 29

**There must be something in the water**

"She's got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling low down

And when I come to her when the sun goes down

take away my trouble, take away my grief

take away my heartache in the night like a thief."

-Crazy Love, Van Morrison

* * *

With the rain long gone, by Wednesday the city was in the midst of an excruciating heat wave. The air was thick and choking. Made worse by the heavy veil of pollution that hovered above the city. It was a quarter after eleven in the morning and the temperature was all ready well above ninety degrees. It would get to a hundred plus before the sun reached its peak at one o'clock.

In the short walk from the subway station, Danny was all ready covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He was yawning and bleary eyed yet in an extremely good mood despite the horrendous weather. Four dates with Erica in as many nights. The last two spent at her place. Up all night in bed. Not talking either. Although there'd been lots of that, too. Holding that soft, alluring body in his arms, running his fingers through those silky blond curls and looking into those golden eyes and at that tiny, freckle splattered nose that she and her cousin shared. Despite Erica being several inches taller and a little heavier and curvy, if you were to put blond hair on Sam, you would swear they were sisters with their freckles and gleaming eyes and their soft smiles and those bubbly, girlie giggles. Both insanely intelligent and off handedly funny and brutally honest. So feminine and sultry and beautiful that you couldn't bear to be away from them. So outgoing and welcoming.

Erica was amazing. He'd never met anyone like her. She had been a world traveller before attending college. She spent time in Sweden and Austria and England before heading way south and ending up in New Zealand and Australia before returning to New York in order to obtain a nursing degree and eventually accepting the position at Sinai. It was there that she met her now ex husband. She'd been scared and reluctant to talk about it with him, and surprised that neither of her cousins hadn't all ready told him. He'd held her close and stroked her hair and listened intently as she spoke. The husband had been a well known cardio surgeon at the same hospital.

Things had started out real good. Money to burn, an apartment on Park Avenue and fancy cars. Two years into it, everything went south. Big time. She walked into her own bedroom and found her husband in their bed with a colleague. A male colleague. He'd offered her a staggering amount of money to stay with him and keep his secret and to allow him to have his secret life, but she told him where to go and how to get there. And her divorce lawyer got her a hefty settlement and the apartment.

It was in the master bedroom of said apartment, a room twice as large as the trace lab, that she told him her life story with tears in her eyes. And afterwards he'd kissed those tears away and made love to her with a tenderness he never knew he even possessed.

Danny Messer was falling in love. Quickly and powerfully. It must have been something in the water or the air at the crime lab. All the guys you least expected it to happen to had fallen victim. If it could happen to the emotionally unavailable ones like him, Mac, Flack and Speed, it wasn't long until it hit Hawkes and Adam.

He took a shower and was at his locker in a pair of baggy jeans and no shirt when a knock came to the locker room door. One of the girls. None of the guys felt the need to announce they were on their way in.

"Yeah?" he called.

"You naked?" Sam's voice.

"I can be in ten seconds!"

"Cute, Danny... cute... can I come in?"

"It's all good."

He looked over as she pushed her way inside, body slick with sweat and carrying a pair of roller blades in her hands, a heavy knapsack on her back, and wearing flip flops, a white tank top that showed off her navel ring and the tattoo on her back, a pair of orange and white flowered women's surfing shorts. What his eyes were drawn to was her hair. She'd dyed it. A rich, deep plum that shone eggplant purple under the lights. And it was now styled very similar to Posh Spice or Katie Holmes. Reaching her chin and cut shaggy at the back. Long gone was the nearly waist length locks that had attracted him to her that first day out on the street.

"Whoa..." he said. "Look at you, Miss Ross. Going all celebrity on us."

"You like?" she asked, heading for her locker a few doors from his.

"Very nice. What made you do that?"

"Just wanted a change. Stella's stylist did it for me this morning."

"It's a change all right. Flack like it?"

"He hasn't seen it yet." she popped open her locker and tossed her roller blades inside and sat at the bench and opened her bag. She pulled out a towel and mopped sweat off of her forehead and neck. "We're on conflicting schedules. He's on nights this week. I think I've seen him all of a half hour in three days. I stopped off downstairs, but he'd been called out. Sounds like another double. That'll be two in a row."

"That man is a goddamn warrior." Danny declared. "You need to get him to slow down a bit."

Sam laughed and pulled a change of clothes from her back. "Yeah... okay... that man bleeds blue, Danny. I have happily relegated myself to second place in his life."

"Come on, you're first and you know it. He just needs to find a way to balance everything. Been single way too long. with Devon, he worked to avoid her and her bullshit rich bitch stuff. And please don't tell him about the naked comment. I don't want him breaking me in half."

"Please." she said, slipping out of her sandals. "Don is harmless."

"Oh yeah, right." Danny laughed. "He's not. Especially when it comes to you."

"He does get a little protective and a wee bit possessive from time to time."

"A wee bit? A lot bit. You roller blade all the way here?"

She nodded and took a bottle of water from her bag and took a long, refreshing sip.

"You're crazy." Danny declared.

"How do you think I stay so small yet eat so much?"

"Do I really have to say?"

She grinned.

"And what are you? Size zero? Shoppin' in the pre-teen stores."

"I am a size six I'll have you know."

"Yeah. In kids."

She laughed and shook her head. "So... I talked to Erica this morning."

"Yeah? And?" Danny slipped into a button down, short sleeve shirt.

"And you have made quite the impression, Danny Messer. She's nuts about you."

He smiled broadley. "Feeling's mutual. Never felt likethis before. Ever. About anyone. It's a nice feeling."

"Yep. It is." Sam agreed.

"You and Flack still up to having dinner with us on Friday?"

"As far as I know, we're good. Saturday I am helping Don with his Y kids. We're going to the Bronx Zoo. I haven't been there in years."

"Not going out with Hawkes now?"

She shook her head. "He backed out out of respect for Don. He's taking Angell."

"What? Get outta here."

"My reaction was far more colourful. He says she's just a friend, and my gut is telling me she will attempt to make it something more. "

"Hawkes is way too classy and normal to be with someone like her." Danny said.

"Maybe we should kidnap him and hide him somewhere." Sam suggested. "Keep him away from her for his own safety."

Danny laughed. "Maybe."

Sam took a bottle of shampoo and another towel from her bag and stood up.

"I'll lock the door when I leave." Danny said, putting on his badge and holster. "Unless..."

She waited for him to finish.

"You know, you need some help scrubbing something."

She smirked. "See you in a bit, Danny." she said in response as she headed for the shower room.

"I could just stand there and hold your towel!" he offered.

"In your dreams, Messer."

"Yeah... the wildest and wettest ones."

"Good bye, Danny." she said and he heard her yank the shower curtain across.

He laughed and shook his head and headed out to start his day.

* * *

"Nice hair." Speed commented, as he climbed into the front passenger seat of the Avalanche parked, engine on, at the back door of the lab.

Sam touched the back of it self consciously.

"Seriously. That's a compliment. And I don't compliment just anyone. You look really good like that. Looks like that chick married to David Beckham. Only you're hotter."

"Watch it or Carmen will kick your ass." Sam said and buckled up her seat belt.

Speed did the same. "Hey, I can look and admire but not touch. And it's not like I'm trying to pick you up or anything. If anything, she's the one doing that.'

"Tim, enough with the lesbian thing." Sam said and pulled out of the lot.

"Just wishful thinking I guess."

"Why? Not like we'd let you or Don join in or even watch."

"That's harsh. Rob the man you love of his wildest fantasy."

"Trust me, Tim, he is living his wildest fantasy every chance he gets." she reached between the seats and picked up a cup of carry out coffee and held it out to him.

"You do love me." he said. "Thanks...and how come you get to drive?"

"'Cause I want to. Poor guy. Both me and Carmen in charge."

"I just let her think she's the boss." Speed said.

"Yeah. Okay. Nice try." Sam laughed.

She drove like Mario Andretti on crack. Pedal to the metal all the way, weaving the heavy truck in and out of the early afternoon traffic, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Speed had never seen a woman handle the wheel so fearless, yet in complete control. Both of them spending the trip cursing and yelling at the morons on the road who refused to yield to emergency vehicles.

Despite the seat belt, Speed still had to brace himself with a hand on the dash board when she suddenly slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision with a flashy red BMW convertible that cut them off. Sam regrouped, switched lanes and managed to pull up alongside the offending car, slowing down as Speed rolled down his window.

"Crazy fucking bitch!" he yelled at the blond woman on her cell phone.

"Watch where you're going!" she screamed in response.

"This is a police vehicle! What's your damage?"

She gave him the finger and sped up.

"You little bitch!" Sam exclaimed and floored the gas.

The light ahead was just turning yellow and Sam stomped on the brakes when she got up close, threw the truck in park and ripped off her seat belt and jumped out.

"Go get her, Mouse!" Speed called after her. "Kick her ass!"

Sam squeezed between the cars stopped behind them, took her badge off of her waist band, went around to the passenger front door. She threw it open and slid into the seat.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully, reaching over and switching the gear to park.

The skinny blond in her skimpy sundress and spike heels nearly jumped out of her skin.

"What the... who the hell are you?"

Sam held up her badge. "NYPD." she introduced herself.

"NYPD?" the woman looked around, confused.

"You just cut us off." Sam informed her. "My partner and I. You cut us off while I was doing nearly seventy five. You could have killed us."

"Um...okay..."

"Try sorry." Sam suggested.

"Sorry." she said meekly.

"Next time, watch where you're going or I'll call a blue and white and have you hauled down to central booking for reckless driving. And a broken tail light."

"A broken tail light?" the woman looked confused.

"Am I making sense?" Sam asked.

The woman nodded fearfully.

"Good. Have a nice day." Sam climbed out, put her badge back on and went to the back of the car. Where she kicked in the left tail light. "That tail light!" she yelled and headed back to the truck.

Speed was laughing hysterically, a hand over his face, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Good?" Sam asked, climbing back behind the wheel and doing up her belt. She threw the truck into drive.

"Good." Speed managed, his lungs burning from laughing so hard. "Better than good. God I love Brooklyn women. You have got some serious anger management problems, though."

"Good thing I'm going to see that shrink today, huh?"

"Nah..." he said, composing himself. "I hope they don't change a thing."

* * *

A nasty head on collision was snarling traffic in the Lincoln Tunnel. Backing it up for miles. They had to park more than two football fields away and walk to the scene. Ever the gentleman, Speed carried both heavy kits.

They listened to angry, frustrated motorists, standing by their vehicles, screaming at the emergency personal trying to free the trapped passengers, uniforms and firefighters and detectives all buzzing around like bees to honey. Motorists wanted to know what the hold up was and how long they'd be there and when would the mess be cleaned up and the tunnel re-opened.

"I already told you! Get your ass back in the car and we'll let you know!"

You could always count on Flack having the loudest, most commanding voice at any crime scene. His back was towards them as they approached, arguing with an elderly woman with her head sticking out of her Mercedes SUV. In the heat, he'd taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The back of his neck was sunburned.

"But officer..."

"Look! How many times do I have to say it! Get back in the fucking car! Get back in the car and when the body parts are scraped off the road, I will gladly let you through! Now get out of my goddamn face!"

"Temper, temper." Speed said. "What's a homicide detective doin' working traffic collisions? Slummin'?"

"When the car wreck turns into a ..." he turned to greet them and stopped mid sentence. His eyes widening as he checked Sam over. While the look suited her, it also made her looked like a twelve year old. And one of his biggest things had been feeling her hair draped all over during intimate times. And now... "What did you do?" he asked.

"Cut my hair." she simply replied.

"And dyed it." he said.

"Don, it's hair. It'll grow back. I just wanted a change."

"That much of one? Like eight inches of change?"

"You'll get used to it." she assured him.

He reached out and felt her hair.

"Just be thankful she didn't do a Britney and shave it all off." Speed said. "Don't you ever go home? I thought you were on nights?"

"I am. But my eight hours keep turning into sixteen. Two straight all ready." he looked back at Sam: "Why?" he asked.

"Flack, focus." Speed said. "It's not like you've lost your best friend. So... car wreck, homicide detective, CSIs... why? Why are the three of us here?"

He motioned for them follow him to the wreck in the middle of the tunnel. Both cars had been covered with yellow tarp, deceased drivers still behind the wheels, waiting for the coroner to come get them out. The trunk to one of the cars was sligtly open, and Flack reached down and pulled it up.

"That's why." he said, revealing a dead body stuffed in the once pristine trunk.

A man between thirty and forty, in white dress shirt soaked in blood, grey pants and a lovely bullet hole between his eyes.

"That'll do it." Speed said with a nod and sat the kits on the ground. He snapped his open and took out a pair of gloves. "Mouse, how could you? Sneaking the camera in my kit?"

"All is fair in love and war, Tim. Your turn to do overalls."

He sighed heavily. "Who we have here, Flack?" he asked, as Sam snapped on the gloves and leaned into the trunk. Giving them and the uniforms a nice view of her ass.

"I can not work under these conditions." Flack sighed.

"Do I need to separate you two?" Speed asked. "Focus, Flack. Whose in the trunk?"

"I can tell you whose not in the trunk. The registered owner of the vehicle. Stacey Peters. Thirty-eight, on her way to pick her husband up at the airport when the driver of the other vehicle, crossed over the line and plowed into her doing sixty. EMS thinks he was having a heart attack that cause him to loose control. Only the ME will be able to say for sure. So we have both drivers, dead on the scene, neither of them our concern. Now the guy in the trunk on the other hand..."

"is not the husband either. Who noticed the body?" Speed asked as he began snapping pictures.

"FDNY first responders noticed the trunk cracked open and what appeared to be a vic unrelated to the crash. They called us and well, here we are, in a hundred and two degree weather. So what took you guys so long? I called for you guys half an hour ago."

"We had an incident." Speed said and tossed Flack his cell phone. "Check it out. Go into the video part and into saved files and it should be the first one there. It's classic."

"This better not be some sick video of you and Devine." Flack said as he browsed through the phone.

"You kidding? You'd like that too much."

Flack snorted and began watching the events unfolding on the small screen of the telephone.

"Find a wallet or anything?" Speed asked Sam.

"Working on it." she called from inside the trunk. "He's in here pretty good."

Flack started to snicker. "Holy shit..."

"What part are you on?" Speed asked.

"Where she boots in the tail light. Fuck... as hilarious as this is, if there's not a complaint filed after that, I'll be mortally shocked."

"It was worth it." Sam said. "I'll happily pay for the damages."

"Your girl has some serious anger issues, Flack." Speed said seriously.

"Ya think?"

Sam finally pulled herself out of the trunk, holding a man's leather wallet between her thumb and forefinger. She opened it up and checked through the contents. "Everything's here." she said. "All his credit cards, driver's license, two hundred bucks. Rules out a robbery. And seeing this isn't his car, there goes the car jacking theory." she passed Flack the wallet so he could write down all the vic's information.

"What you notice about the body?" Speed asked.

"Well, a few things. Liver temp puts TOD at roughly five hours ago.There's two distinct muzzle burns to suggest the gun was held there a long time with a lot of pressure or that they're hesitation marks. Also, GSR on the right shirt cuff and a positive for GSR on the right hand. I don't think this was a homicide."

"Great." Flack said. "So what? Aliens came down and did it?"

"No, smart as. At first blush, I'd call it a suicide. Think about it. GSR on his clothes and his hand."

"But there's no weapon, no blood spatter," Speed pointed out. "So he obviously didn't do it in the trunk."

"Question is," Flack said. "Where did he do it? And who the hell put him in there. 'Cause lets face it , someone can not climb in there on their own after they've shot themselves in the head."

Speed stared at his friend. "That is an excellent deduction." he said drly. "Way to put those detective skills to work.Now all you have to do is find out the who, why, what and where and how and you're all set."

"You have got to be the most sarcastic, pain in the ass CSI I have ever met." Flack declared. "Next to Sam of course.'

"Ha-ha. You're real comedian." she said. "Okay Mister Trace expert, he's all yours." she stepped away to give Speed some room to work.

"So..." Flack said to her. "You sleep good last night? You were taking up the entire bed and all the covers when I left."

"I heard you leave and then spent more than half the night tossing and turning. I guess I was lonely. I missed having you there beside me, rolling over and finding you there."

He smiled.

"Not to mention listening to you snore all night and steal the covers." she teased, elbowing his arm playfully.

"There's the pot calling the kettle black. I think you have me confused with you."

"Well all I know was that it was lonely."

"This is gonna sound weird," he commented. "but I missed you. And I know that probably freaks you out to hear that, but it's true and I..."

She leaned into him and smiled. "I missed you, too." she said.

"And about the hair."

She sighed.

"You look fucking sexy like that."

She grinned.

"And honestly, if you had no hair, I would still feel the same way."

They smiled at one another.

"I have to go to that therapist today. Mac's niece."

"Gus. I know. I've met her a few times. You'll like her."

"Was she your therapist after the bombing?" she asked curiously.

"No. I just know her through Mac. Are you sure don't want me to come?"

"You've worked two long days in a row." she said. "You need to go home and sleep. You look exhausted."

"I am. But this isn't about me. Do you want me to come?"

"Carmen said she'd take me over."

"Sam, that's not what I asked. Do you want me to come?"

"I want you to go home and rest and start worrying about yourself." she said.

"You are one stubborn little bitch." Flack declared.

"You love me though."

"I do. And that's why I'll be there when you get out of your appointment."

"It's not over until four." she told him. "And I work until eight. Maybe even later."

"I can't come and take my girlfriend out for something to eat?" he asked.

She smiled. "You can"

"I'll be there at four. You just make sure you get your ass to the appointment."

"I will."

He looked at her, both eyebrows raised.

"I will." she insisted.

"I'll call Carmen and make sure she drags you there if she has to." he flipped his log book closed and capped his pen. "Okay... time to do some actual police work. I'm gonna call the MEs office and then track down the next of kin. You guys okay here?"

"We are good." she assured him.

"Good. I'll see you for sure at four." he smiled at her and rubbed the small of her back before leaving

Sam watched him go, a content, peaceful smile on her lips. Time to go back to work, she thought.

* * *

Two hours later, Speed glanced up from the samples he was preparing for the GC/MS machine as Samantha came hurrying into the

trace lab, carrying a couple of clear plastic evidence bags in her hands, a victorious smile on her face.

"So?" he asked. "What's the good word? How'd the search of the vic's place go?"

Sam held up one of the bags. "Three things," she said and joined him at the table he worked at. "Exhibit A. A suicide not that I was able to match to our vic's handwriting by using some paper work at his desk in said house. Exhibit B," she held up a baggy full of bottles of prescription medications. "Our vic was the brother of the car crash vic. He lived at her house for over three years. He was being treated for bi-polar disorder and was on a cocktail of drugs that his doctor told me he went off of two months ago."

"So he went off his meds and offed himself." Speed concluded. "What else?"

"My personal favorite for obvious reasons." she said and held up another bag. "Exhibit C. A Sig Sauer nine millimeter a uni found in the trash can outside of the house. One bullet missing from the magazine, which I am suspecting once I test fire, will match the bullet I pulled from the bathroom wall. Get this. As soon as we walked in, all Don and I could smell was bleach. It burned our eyes it was so bad. Coming from the smaller extra bathroom. I sprayed it with luminol and the thing lit up like a Christmas tree. Someone attempted to clean it up with bleach. And not even bleach will do much on blood and brain matter. I've got swabs down at DNA as we speak."

"Still doesn't tell us how the hell he got into his sister's trunk." Speed said.

"That is the last piece of the puzzle that I can not figure out. What are you working on?"

"Trace."

"Well no shit." she picked up a swab he was getting ready to prepare.

"Do you mind?" he asked, taking it back.

"I'm just curious." she said and picked up another swab.

"Sam, go be curious someplace else. Like ballistics."

"Oh I forgot." she said. "You're Mr Protection when it comes to your beloved trace lab."

Speed snatched the swab after her. "Yes. I am. I'm the trace expert, you are the ballistics expert. Remember? So how about you get that cute little ass of yours down the hall to your second home and make yourself useful. You do ballistics, I do trace."

"Don't be so sensitive, Tim. Call me if you get anything."

"Same for you." he told her.

She 'accidentally' bumped into the table and 'accidentally' swept a whole box of unused swabs tumbling to the ground. "Ooops," she said, and kept going.

"You're funny." Speed called.

She smiled at him through the glass.

He shook his head and went to clean up the mess she'd made. At least the things were sealed and could still be used. A pair of slender feet in high heeled boots suddenly appeared in front of his face, and then were soon taken away and replaced by the smiling face of Kendall as she knelt in front of him.

"Hi." she practically purred.

"Uh... hi." he said, not too enthused.

"Looks like you need a hand."

"I'm fine." he assured her, taking the swabs from her hands. "Thanks though."

"I don't mind lending a helping hand." Kendall informed him.

He smirked. "I bet. But really, I'm fine."

Speed quickly gathered everything up and stood and went back to his work.

Kendall stepped in close beside him. "Need help?" she asked.

"You know what I really need?" he retorted.

She smiled.

"I need you to get the hell out of my trace lab and let me get to work. Please and thank you."

"There's no need to get all rude about it!" she snapped "I was only being nice."

"I bet." he snorted as she stalked off.

* * *

Flack was at his desk, phone pressed to his ear as he attempted to reach his victim's next of kin, elbow on his desk and his hand over his weary eyes when he felt a presence looming over him. A very looming presence.

"Need to speak to a detective you have to sign in with the receptionist first." he said, not looking up.

"I'm here to speak to you."

That voice. Deep and powerful and authoritative. No voice had unnerved him that bad since his father's when he was a young boy. The kind of voice that made a lesser man shit himself. He glanced up and found himself looking into the stern face and cold as ice eyes of Sam's step father.

Flack put the phone in the receiver and sat upright in his chair. "About?" he asked calmly, despite the fact his heart was pounding. He'd never been good with fathers, even now at thirty.

"You know what about." The Sarge said coolly. "May I?" he gestured to the empty chair alongside of Flack's desk.

Flack simply nodded.

"I'm goin' back to Phoenix tomorrow and I didn't want to leave without thanking you for how you handled the situation with Zack. Going to that hotel and doin' what you did, putting your ass on the line, that was a hell of a thing and I appreciate it."

"Did what I had to." Flack said.

"Ladybug seems to really like you. I ain't sure why she does, but I wanna give you the benefit of the doubt. But if you hurt her, I will personally break every bone in that body of yours."

Flack didn't doubt it. "I love your daughter." he said in return. "You need to know that."

"Do I? Well that better be the truth or you're gonna be pissing out of a tube for the rest of your life."

"What is your problem with me?" Flack asked. "You don't even know me. You know nothing about me. You probably don't even know my name."

"Nothing against you, son. But sometimes Samantha doesn't know what's good for her. She makes some bad, bad choices and she pays for it. Look what happened with that rat bastard Zack."

"Yeah, well you know what? I'm not Zack. I'll never be like Zack and for you to come in here, to my work, and put me in the same category as that sonofabitch is enough to make me want to throw your ass on out of here."

"I just think my daugher has had more than her fair share of pain in this life and I don't want you adding to that."

"I'm not in this to hurt her. Far from it."

"You promise me right now, son. You promise me you'll be there to love her and take care of her. God knows she needs a bit f happiness and I'm trusting you to give that to her."

"Samantha's not a little girl anymore." Flack said. "She's a woman and I'm not going to hurt her. I all ready said that. So if you just came in here to try and scare me and bust my balls, then I suggest you leave and let me get on with my job." he picked the phone back up and started dialling.

The Sarge reached out and placed his fingers on the hang up switch.

Flack sighed and put the phone back yet again. "What do you want, Clint? What do you want to hear from me that will prove to you that I'm not some evil bastard out to hurt your daughter. Tell me. 'Cause where I'm sitting, it's looking to me like you're the bad guy. You freak out on your daughter and question her about her sex life in a public place, you come here, to my work place and threaten me, and you can't even show me half the respect I've shown you."

"I like you, son. You've got balls. All the others would be quaking in their boots.'

"Well if you lived with my father and you saw what I've seen on the street everyday for nearly eleven years, you'd understand why I'm not pissing myself right now."

"I just want you to take care of her. If I find out you hurt her," Clint stood and shook his head gravely. "So help you God, son, you'll need all the devine intervention you can get." he offered his hand.

Flack pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up and shook the outstretched hand.

"Take care of her, Don." Clint said. "It's all I ask."

Flack nodded. "That's all I want to do."

Clint nodded as well and walked away, leaving the young detective watching his back as he left.

"See," Clint said and turned with a grin. "You were wrong. I do know your name."

Flack grinned.

"Always a fatherly shoulder waiting for you in Phoenix." Clint told him. "You feel that's what you're needing, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"I won't." Flack assured him and returned to his desk.

For a long time he sat there, staring at nothing, thinking about those last words the man had spoken to him.

* * *

Samantha and Carmen sat side by side in a well lit, spacious and colourful waiting area of the office belonging to Gus Broussard, located on the twelve floor of the NYPD administrative offices. Samantha bit her nails and shook her legs nervously, while Carmen tried her best to concentrate on the Newsweek she was flipping through.

"How's your case going?" Carmen asked, hoping to distract Sam from her anxious state.

"Straight up suicide with a little twist. Our guy did off himself. The note was in his hand writing and not done under any form of duress and tox showed he had gone off his meds sometime ago and his doctor said he was going through a depressive phase. Then there was the GSR on his hand and on the cuff of his shirt. My test fire matched a bullet I retrieved from the actual scene of the incident, and there were hesitation marks on his forehead from pressing the gun there several times before actually pulling the trigger. All the signs were there."

"And the twist?"

"For some reason that we'll never know, the sister put him in the trunk. Maybe she was frantic and was going to dump him somewhere. Who knows. But Tim matched blood on her shirt and pants to the vic's, on top of bloody prints on the trunk and steering wheel. So, case closed and on to another one. Yours?"

"It's an uphill battle that Hawkes and I are loosing at the moment." Carmen sighed. "No trace, n fingerprints, no DNA."

"I have had many a day like that, believe me. I think today went so smooth because I had Mr Trace ace all to myself."

Carmen flipped a page over in her magazine. "You and Tim seem pretty close." she commented casually.

''What? Come one. You are not serious."

"What? Did I say anything?"

"I think you need to be the room going in there with all of your issues." Sam commented. Tim is my friend. My co-worker. That's it."

"You don't feel anything for him? Outside of friendship? I mean, you guys seem really close. You get along well."

"I can't believe you would think that." Sam snorted and shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I guess it just seems too good to be true."

"Wait... serious deja vu moment. Did I not say those exact words to you four days ago?"

"You did." Carmen agrreed. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest anything. It's just that... he's so..."

"Hot?" Sam finished.

Carmen stared at her. "You think he's hot?"

"Girl, I'd have to be dumb and blind not to."

"But you'd never..."

"Carmen, stop. Tim is my friend. That's it. That's all there is to it. You don't see me asking you if you're having a thing with Don just 'cause you work well together."

"Sam, I would never do that to you."

"Likewise."

Carmen sighed. "You're right. I'm being stupid. And self conscious. Just your beautifu and intelligent and guys just seem to flock to you."

"And you're none of those things? Please."

Carmen just nodded, considering her best friend's words. "Nervous?" she asked, anxious to change the subject.

Sam nodded. "Don't know why. She's only going to tell me what I all ready know. I'm crazy."

Carmen frowned. "You are not crazy. You have issues and you're dealing with them. And we're all here for you."

"God, can you imagine if she mentions couples therapy?"

"Something tells me Flack will not be liking that idea." Carmen said.

Sam laughed. "He'd either refuse to go and give her such a hard time she'll never want him back."

"Well he must have went after the bombing." Carmen said.

"He did. And he won't talk about it.'

"Well he's a proud man." Carmen reasoned. "To a fault. He probably doesn't want you to know how bad he suffered and how dark things got for him. And maybe he's trying to forget as much as possible."

"Maybe..." Sam said with a sigh.

The door to the office area opened and the receptionist stepped out.

"Detective Samantha Ross?" she called into the waiting area,

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she stood up.

"Good luck." Carmen said. '"Want me to wait?"

"I'll be an hour." Sam reminded her.

"So? I'll wait."

"You don't have to." Sam said.

"I want to." Carmen insisted.

They both smiled.

"Besides," Carmen added. "There's a new issue of Time over there that I want to check out."

Sam laughed and followed the receptionist.

Carmen winked at her before the door closed and she disappeared from sight. She'll be okay, Carmen thought. No doubt about it. And this is the first step on that long road to recovery.

**Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! Much appreciated!**


	30. Chapter 30

**In session**

"If I make you scared  
if that's what you do  
If I'm unclear can I get out of this with me and you?  
If you feel scared or a bit confused  
I gotta say, this sounds a little beyond  
anything I'm used to."  
-Scared, The Tragically Hip

* * *

Gus Broussard was not who Samantha expected to see coming into the spacious, comfortable office. The New Orleans native was tall and curvy and stunningly attractive with wavy blond hair pulled tightly back and sparkling green eyes, dressed conservatively and stylishly in a beige business suit, heels and a burgundy blouse. Sam had a certain image of a therapist set in her mind. Someone like the doctor from The Sopranos or a middle age man, stuffed suit type like back in the Phoenix PD. The type that seemed more interesting in dozing off during your life history or doodling on their note pads and offering up little more than one word answers or shakes or nods of the head. She certainly did not expect a total knock out with loads of self confidence, possibly younger than herself. And it only made her feel even more nervous and self conscious once the handshakes and introductions were made and she took a seat on a comfy chair in a cozy meeting area in the middle of the office.

Gus could sense how nervous and uneasy the thought of spilling her guts out to a complete stranger was to the young, pretty little CSI sitting across from her. And she couldn't help but think that this young woman looked better suited to be teaching a class room of children than working on the bad streets of New York City. But Mac had told her despite the wholesome, girl next door appearance, Samantha Ross was a determined, head strong woman and an amazing cop. And that he couldn't afford to loose her because of personal issues.

Samantha avoided eye contact as much as possible. Her eyes darting around the room, pretending to be intriqued by photos and diplomas hanging on the wall. Biting her fingernails and shaking her legs. Gus expected resistance. It was quite obvious this girl wanted to be anywhere but there.

"First off," Gus began in her Louisiana drawl. "I want you to know that no one is forcing you to be here. You don't want to be here, then don't come. No skin off my nose. Just means I have an extra free hour to catch up on paper work."

"I have to be here." Sam said, finally looking at the therapist. "Chief Sinclair made me do this so I can keep my job. He made Mac send me here. I didn't choose to come. This is the last place I want to be, talking to a stranger. And it's nothing personal. I just don't tell people certain things about me."

"No one is holding a gun to your head or tying you to a chair to stay. And if you choose to be here, I don't even care if you do any talking. You can spend the whole hour of every session just looking out the window if you want. That's your prerogative. Fact is, you're here for eigth sessions and there's no way out of that. So, why don't you think of how you'd like to make your time here beneficial. To you."

Samantha nodded, considering. "I'll do that." she said and looked away again.

Several minutes passed by. Neither woman spoke. Samantha sat with her leg shaking nervously and her eyes on the window, looking out at the city scape, while Gus sat patietly, organizing files.

"I'm not crazy you know." Samantha finally spoke first.

"Did someone suggest you were?" Gus asked.

"No... it's just I feel that way sometimes.Like my brain is going to explode and my life is out of control."

"Why did Chief Sinclair send you here?" Gus asked.

"Because I have issues."

"What kind of issues?"

Sam sighed and looked at Gus and nodded to the file in her hands. "We'd be here all day and you'd need a hell of a lot more paper if I was to tell you."

"Give me one thing to start off with." Gus suggested.

"I threatened a co-worker." Sam admitted.

"Threatened?"

"Do you not have that written down in my file there?" Sam asked irritably. "It must be in there."

"I want you to tell me." Gus responded. "Hear your side of the story."

"She was spreading rumors about me and people I love and I put a stop to it. I told her to keep her mouth shut and I may have told her I'd kick the crap out of her if she didn't."

"And would you have?"

"Probably."

"Because...?"

"Because she was talking shit about me and... I'm sorry. Pardon my mouth. She was talking crap about me and I couldn't take it and I wanted to stop it."

Gus wrote feverishly. "Is there another way you could have dealt with it? Without resorting to violence?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess."

"Have you ever felt like that before? At another co-worker, a loved one...?"

Sam snorted. "At least twice a day, every day."

Gus just nodded.

"I get irritated really easily. Stupid comments from stupid people really bother me. And people try and suffocate me and close me in and I just snap. Say mean things to people who don't deserve it. Want to smack the shit out of them. You know, people trying to treat me like this fragile little girl."

"What people do this?"

"My brother, for starters. He's younger than I am, yet he has this big brother vibe about him. He nags me constantly about my personal life, gets on me about the way I'm handling situations, wants to practically lock me in the house. Protect me. Like I used to do to him when we were kids."

"Who else?"

"I don't know... my father. Step father, actually. He came to New York to check up on me and went all military on me. He was just worried about things that have been happening lately and wanted to make sure I was okay. I get that. But when he gets like that... unbearable. Totally unbearable."

"How about a spouse? A significant other? How do they make you feel?"

"My boyfriend... he's great and I love him to death and he wants to help me and protect me, but he can be really possessive and overbearing. And when he starts that suffocating thing he does and treats me like a little kid, I can't take it. And then I say mean things to him and he doesn't deserve it. Half the time, I don't even know I said it until it comes out of my mouth and then I feel like shit 'cause I can't take it back."

"Do you ever get violent?" Gus asked.

"With him? Yeah, right. He's over six feet and two hundred pounds. Even if I wanted to, he wouldn't let me get away with it. He says I have anger issues."

"Do you feel he's right?"

"Honestly? I can't remember a time when I haven't been angry."

Silence fell between the two women. Gus busy jotting everything down, and Sam starting out the window, absentmindedly playing with the simple gold chain around her neck. Lost in thought.

* * *

"Are you angry now?" Gus asked, after several minutes had passed.

"A little." Sam admitted. "Not at you because you're just doing your job. But I'm angry at Lindsay for putting me in a position that landed me here. I'm angry at Sinclair for making me do this and I'm angry at my mother for making me the way I am."

"Are you angry at yourself?"

"I'm angry that I let myself get this way. That I didn't stop it sooner. That it had to come to this." Sam had been fighting back angry, bitter tears for the last few minutes and now they flowed freely down her cheeks. "Because now I feel I can't change and I want to change me."

Gus stopped writing and reached for a box of tissues in the middle of the small table between them and tore some out and handed them to CSI. "In what way do you want to change?" she asked gently.

"I want to be happy." Sam replied, dabbing at her eyes. "I want to be less angry and stressed out. I want to get rid of this hangup that I feel I don't deserve to be happy. I want to laugh more and have fun with people and I can't do that. I can't let my guard down enough. I pretend really well and I don't want to pretend anymore. And I wish...I wish I could be somebody else. Just become an entirely different person. I know that sounds stupid. But it's how I feel."

"It's okay to feel that way." Gus said, getting up and going to a table along the far wall and pouring a glass of ice water from a jug that rested there. She went back to the seating area and held it out to Sam with reassuring smile. "But in the long term, it's not healthy for you or whoever you're with. You have to own yourself. You have to think about consequences before you make choices. Not regret them afterwards when it's too late to change anything. Nothing is more painful than regret."

Samantha nodded and sipped the water.

"When did the anger start?" Gus asked, sitting back down.

"I was young. I can't remember the exact age."

"What happened?"

"My brother and I..." she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Adam. His name is Adam. We were abused. Badly. By our birth father. I think he started on me when I was about six. He used us a punching bag. Would lock us in the basement with no food for two days. It was your basic physical, emotional abuse. He put it in our heads that it was our fault he was the way he was, that we were bad kids and we deserved to be punished. And we believed it."

"Did you have a mother?"

"She did nothing to stop it. And we were just kids! I protected Adam the best I could. But sometimes, it wasn't good enough."

"Do you tend to get involved in relationships that are abusive?"

"Those types flock to me. My ex fiance, was just like my father. I came to New York to get away from him and he followed me here and he was going to abduct me and do God knows what to me. He even came to the lab with a gun to threaten me!"

"How about your relationship now? Do you find it abusive?"

"Complete opposite. He's not like that at all. He's not the type to hit a woman. He's a really, really nice guy. He treats me like a princess. It's the first time anyone has treated me like that. Its hard to get used to."

"Are you happy? With him?" Gus asked.

"I am. I just have a hard time accepting that I deserve to be happy and to have someone like him. It's weird. I must sound like a real nut job to you."

"Not at all. Let's talk about your past effects the present. With men. What else can you tell me that is different with this relationship than the previous?"

Sam thought about it, slowly sipping the water. "It's the first time in forever that I've trusted a man. And its the first tie someone has complimented me and made me feel good about myself."

"And intimacy wise? Are there any reluctance issues?"

"At first I wasn't ready for that step and he understood. He didn't pressure me or anything."

"Often with violent pasts, we see high risk behaviours." Gus said. "Do you see anything with yourself? Substance or alcohol abuse?"

"I wouldn't say abuse. But when I drink, I tend not to know when to stop. I've never done anything really stupid other than being sicker than a dog the next day or sleeping on the bathroom floor. I've never gone home with strange me. Although, there was this time in college I got pretty trashed and I kinda fooled around with my roommate. And my roommate was a girl."

Gus' eyes widened a little as she jotted it down.

"Not that I'm a lesbian or even bi-sexual." Sam added quickly. "It just happened."

"Anonymous, promiscuous, or rough sex?"

"No, no and yes. A big yes."

"You enjoy rough sex?'

"More than any other kind." Sam admitted.

"If you sit back and think about it, do you enjoy it because you genuinely like it, or because you feel you deserve to be hurt and feel pain and be degraded?"

Sam considered it. "Can I get back to you on that? I've never thought about it."

"Of course. How about other behaviours? Eating disorders?"

"Hell no. I love to eat. Food is my friend. I just know when to stop and how to burn it all off."

"What about self harm? Cutting yourself, pulling you hair...?"

"Stuff like that has never even crossed my mind. So do you think that I have all these issues because of what happened when I was a kid?"

"I do. And now, I'm going to tell you to throw all of your past mistakes and problems out the window because it doesn't mean a hill of beans now. I know that you've had a tough go of it. You've been trough a lot and I'm sorry for that. But this is the present and you have to live in the present. Think about your decisions and choices and if you're making them because of the past. Here's what I want you to do. A little bit of homework before our next session. I want you to get a journal..."

Sam blanched. "Oh God... I am not the diary kind of girl. I'm more the read someone else's diary kind of girl."

Gus smiled in amusement. "I want you to journal your feelings. When a certain situation hits, how you feel at that time, negative or positive, and how you dealt with it, successfully or unsuccessfully. Write down random thoughts or ideas you're having. Our next session, you get back to me on any anxious or scared or angry moments you had during the week and how they affected you and how you coped. And the intimacy issues. Think about that."

"You mean you actually want me to come back?" Sam asked. "I didn't annoy you?"

"I'd like you to come back." Gus said. "Would you like to come back?"

Sam nodded. "I would. I'm not crazy, am I?"

"No." Gus assured her. "You're just human."

* * *

The clock across the room read quarter to four. Carmen was using the mobile browser on her cell phone to check the daily headlines through CNN when the door leading into the waiting room swung open. She looked over, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of the familiar, unexpected face stepping into the room. Don Flack in a pair of baggy adidas tear away pants and a plain white t-shirt, baseball cap and running shoes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Didn't you just finish another double?"

"I did." he said and dropped his tall, bulky frame into the chair beside her. "Clocked out two hours ago."

"Don't you sleep?"

"I went home, showered, lied down for a bit and now, here I am. What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I can not get over how different you look in normal clothes is all. Unreal. So what are you doing here?"

"Sam was stressing over coming today and I figured I'd come and see how things went. She's trying hard to deal with a lot of stuff. I just wanted to support her."

"Awww...Flack..." she rubbed his shoulder. "You are a man in love."

"Keep it down. I have a reputation to uphold." he joked.

She smacked the back of his head, hard enough to hurt and aggravate the massive sunburn he had.

He bit back a loud curse word and rubbed at his stinging neck.

"What's up with Sam's hair?" Carmen asked. "It's cute and she looks great with it, but what made her do that? Some kind of soul cleansing thing?"

"Maybe. All I know is that when I left for work last night, she still had all her hair. She gets to the scene this morning and it's all gone. Used to reach her ass nearly and now it barely reaches her chin. It was beautiful and long and now it's gone. And don't tell her this, but it kind of reminds me of Lindsay."

"Jesus Flack, get a grip." Carmen said. "It's just hair. And you should have your ass kicked for that last comment."

"It's all good in the end. She donated what they cut off to that Locks of Love charity. You know, the people who make wigs for kids that lost their hair from chemotherapy."

Carmen smiled. "That is so Sam. Always thinking about someone else." she closed off the browser on her phone and yawned. "Well, if you're here..." she stood up and stretched. "I don't need to be."

"Maybe we should both stay." Flack suggested. "Avoid her having some abandonment crisis."

"So now you're addressing her abandonment issues." Carmen commented, returning to her seat.

"You don't think I realize she has issues? Lots of them? But I love her regardless."

She playfully pinched his cheek. "Flack, you're goin' all sappy on me here. Where's the big, bad, scary homicide detective we all know and love?"

"Hey, that badge and gun come off, this is me. It's just my job, Carmen. Not my life."

"You are a study in contradiction, Donald Flack Jr." she looked closer at him. There was something different about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Then it clued in. Less hair at his neckline, poking out of the bottom of his hat. Almost no hair, actually. She grabbed the hat and yanked it off. "Oh my fucking God..." she said.

"You like?" he asked and rubbed the top of his head. He'd gone and gotten his hair shaved a half inch shy of a brush cut.

"Jesus fucking Christ. What did you do?" Carmen asked.

"I've had my hair this short before. No biggie. And it's hot out so..."

"Short enough to see your scalp? What the hell? Did you do this to spite her?"

"I most certainly did not... okay, maybe I did."

She slapped his arm with the hat and dropped it in his lap. "You are an asshole. That's petty. And childish."

"I bet ya she freaks when she sees it." Flack said and put his hat back on.

"Twenty says she doesn't."

"You're on." Flack said and they shook on it.

Carmen picked up a brown paper bag from the chair beside her and pulled out a sprinkle donut. "Here..." she held it out to him. "If you've been working nights and she's on days, you need this more than I do."

"I don't eat donuts." he told her.

"Bullshit. I've seen you eat and you'll eat anything."

"Carmen..."

"Come on. Eat it."

"I seriously don't..."

"I said eat it!" she snapped and shoved it into his mouth.

"Happy?" he asked, taking a bite.

"Yes. I''m a therapist, too. I hand out donuts to those who need them."

"I'm in need for something but it's not a donut." he said with a sigh.

"Sam's right. You are a perv."

"How'd you even know that's what I was talking about?"

"'Cause you and Speed are exactly the same. You're men. Keep eating that donut and you'll feel better soon. Speed had one earlier, too"

"Yeah? What you put in it? LSD? Meth? E?" he asked.

"For you, viagra."

"Fuck you, Devine. That is one problem I don't have."

"Appareantly. You need something that does the complete opposite."

"Exactly." he said.

The door to the office area opened and Sam and Gus came out. Both Carmen and Flack were surprised that while Sam's eyes looked red from crying, she was actually smiling and laughing about something she and Gus were discussing.

"Looks like yo have some fans here to support you." Gus drawled. "I'm Gus Broussard." she offered her hand to Carmen as she stood.

"Carmen Devine." she shook the taller woman's hand. "I work with Sam at the lab."

"She's my best, dearest friend." Sam declared, and it nearly brought tears to Carmen's eyes to hear it. Carmen put an arm about her friend's shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Detective Flack." Gus shook his hand. "Nice to see you again and under different circumstances. Samantha, same day, same time next week. I'll have Estella write it down. Remember what I said to think about."

"I will. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Talk soon. Take care." Gus smiled warmly at the small group before disappearing back inside.

"So," Flack said, giving his girlfriend a warm, tight hug and a small kiss. "You okay?"

Sam nodded. "I'm fine. It was... therapeutic."

"How'd it go?" Carmen asked.

"Better than I expected. I have to keep taking the lorezepam for the anxiety and the zoloft to even out my moods, but she thinks I should be able to ween myself off of them soon."

"Well, as great as that sounds, you might want to take a couple drugs now." Carmen said and pulled Flack's hat off.

Sam's eyes widened at the sight. "Okay..."

"Had to find a way to hide my grey hair." Flack said. "You hate it, don't you. You're pissed off. Tell me you're pissed off and you hate it."

"Actually, I like it. A lot. Makes you look even hotter." Sam gushed,

Carmen grinned victoriously and held out her hand to Flack. "I told you so. Give me my twenty."

He sighed heavily and took out his wallet and peeled off two tens and passed them over.

"Women." he grumbled as they left the office and he dutifully followed behind.

* * *

"So tell me again why we are here and what exactly we are looking for?" Flack asked, as they browsed an aisle of a card and stationary store at the New Rochelle Mall. He'd offered to take her out for dinner before returning her to the lab. But they had to make a pit stop first.

"A journal." Sam replied, gesturing to the turn displays of colourful note books. "Gus wants me to get a journal. To jot things down. Like how I feel in certain situations and how I dealt with things. Stuff like that. Random thoughts. Where I want to be in one, five, ten, fifteen years from now."

"Where do you want to be fifteen years from now?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound like he was fishing, anxious to hear the answer to see if it matched up to his idea at all.

"Stinking rich and living on Park Avenue." she said.

He snorted. "Yeah...right. Good luck with that. So what you need is a diary."

"Journal." she corrected. "There's a difference."

He thumbed through some on the display. "You want some cutesy, girly thing with kittens and flowers and butterflies and shit like that?"

She stared at him.

"Well, sweetheart, they don't have any with skulls and crossbones and ammo on them." he said.

"Something plain." she told him. "Do they have anything plain?"

"Closest thing to plain has either little pink hearts in the corners or one with clouds. Wait, there is a solid hot pink one."

"Pink? Me? Get real, Donnie."

"I forgot. How wrong of me to think you'd want something feminine. Ross." he knew her distaste for calling people by their last names, and had discovered just how much she despised when he called her by hers. But he just couldn't resist.

She pinched his ass.

"Quit groping me in public." he said. "Or I'll be forced to take ya in a store with a dressing room and take ya in there and take advantage of you."

"And that's a bad thing because?"

"Good to know I'm not the only one suffering from no sex in forty eight hours. It's killing me. Here..." he held out a journal to her. "It's solid purple. Take it or leave it."

"It'll do." she said with a sigh.

"It's a diary. Who cares what it looks like." Flack reasoned.

Sam snatched it out of his hand. "Journal." she informed him.

"Journal, diary, same damn thing. Question now is, do I get to read it?"

"No. Why would you?"

"Well if you're gonna write stuff in there about me, I figure I should be allowed to look at it."

"Who says I'm writing anything about you?" she teased.

"Because you love me and there's lots to write about." he replied.

"It's not suppose to be porn, Don." she said and headed for the cash.

"Come on..." he followed her. "That's not the only thing we do."

She snickered.

"It's not." he insisted. We do other things, too."

"We do? Like what? And something else other than work."

"Okay." he conceded. "So maybe that is all we do. But it's a new thing, a novelty and we have to make up for all the crappy sex we had before we met. And we're doing something else right now. And I'm taking you out to eat. That's gotta count for something."

"Mm hm." she responded as they waited in line for the checkout.

"Well then you tell me what you want to do and we'll do it." he suggested.

"I want us to go out on dates. Like a normal couple. Go to dinner, the movies, the theatre..."

"We talked about the whole theatre thing." he reminded her. "You know I'm not the theatre type of guy and you said that was fine. And we agreed you'd go to a Mets game if I took you to the museum to see the Titanic exhibit when it comes next month. What more do yo want from me? My left leg? Arm? A kidney? With our schedules we're lucky if we have twenty minutes in three days to go and grab a coffee."

"I just want to feel like this is more than sex to you." she said.

"You did not just say that. You honestly think I'm in for the sex? If I was in this just to get laid on a regular basis, I wouldn't have taken you apartment hunting on my day off, I wouldn't have shown up to support you today, and I sure as hell would not have put up with your step dad's bullshit."

She stared at him.

"Oh yeah. The Sarge? He paid me a little visit at work today. Showed up at my desk and gave me the whole hurt my daughter and I crush you talk."

They stepped up to the cashier and he handed her the journal and his VISA.

"What did you say?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"I told him the truth. I love you and I want to protect you and I'm not going to hurt you."

"And?"

"And he told me if I was bull shitting him, I'd be peeing through a tube."

"Don... I am so sorry."

"Don't worry." he signed the sales receipt and handed it to the cashier and returned his credit card to his wallet. "I handled my own."

"Oh God. What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened. Whatever you and him talked about when you went to dinner the other night, whatever you said, it worked. 'Cause he was there to tell me he was giving me the benefit of the doubt because you seemed to really like me."

They left the store hand in hand, him carrying the small bag.

"He also told me that it was up to me to take care of you now." Flack added.

Her face brightened. Her eyes twinkled. "Really?"

He nodded and stopped to kiss her softly. "That makes you happy?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's what I wanted. For him to give you a chance. I needed him to understand how I felt about you and I needed him to accept you. I told him if he didn't, that I didn't know what the state of mine and his relationship would be."

"You actually said all that?"

"Yep."

"You'd sacrifice your relationship with him for me?"

"He's had me for fourteen years." she reasoned. "It's time for him to share."

"Yeah? Well I don't share. With anyone." he said.

"Didn't you ever learn in school that it's nice to share?" she teased.

"I never was a scholar. I think I was absent that day."

"Was that between all the time you spent using phony x-ray glasses to look through girls skirts? The nuns beating you down for it"

He hung his head and shook it slowly. "Stella." he said and sighed. "What else has she told you?"

"Enough." Sam replied.

"How much is enough?" he inquired.

"Enough that I have blackmail material for a while. So I can get whatever I want. For a very, very, very long time."

"Blackmail, huh? What is it exactly that you want?"

She smiled broadly. Devilishly.

"Baby, all you have to do is ask for that." he said and pulled her into him for a searing kiss, holding both her hands down at their sides.

She smiled when the kiss ended and her body was starting to tingle. "That was nice." she declared.

"Put that in your diary." he said.

**Aphina: **Speed and Sam will have an interesting relationship that keeps people wondering if there's more to it than meets the eye!

**Madison Bellows: **Weird thing is, I was watching The Sopranos at the time I wrote the trunk of the car crime scene and not once considered a mob hit. The bob. I know. But it was either that or shave it off. Carmen hits on the 'cleansing" thing.

**Bluehaven4220: **hope the start of the therapy hit the spot for now!

**laplandgurl: **There just might be some Angell bitch slapping to come. Her and Sam do not exactly get along. For obvious reasons.

**Mauveine: **For some reason, I sense a Danny and Sam fan base growing with other people. I see them more as brother and sister type. Same with her and Speed. Although the closeness she develops with Speed (and he with her) will leave people asking a lot of questions very soon. And Flack. He is the king of classic lines.


	31. Chapter 31

**Something unexplainable**

"Sooner or later it's over  
passing you by and it's gone  
there's not enough time to wonder  
if you're where you belong."  
-Run, Rex Goudie

* * *

Friday afternoon was as disgustingly hot as those before it. Not a cloud in the smog filled sky. Sun blazing down. So hot in fact, Adam had run to the market across the street, grabbed a carton of eggs and attempted to see if the old adage of it being hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk was true. It had almost worked. Sunny side up as opposed to fried.

There would be more deaths in New York from the suffocating heat than murder and accidents combined. Mostly elderly or the sick who couldn't afford an air conditioner and couldn't get down the flights of stairs and out to one of the many cooling centers the city had set up. Not to mention the number of cases of dehydration from those not smart enough to realize sweat is water and you sweat a lot in the heat and need to replace it. Or to listen to the chief medical officer's warning to stay indoors unless absolutely necessary.

Sam and Speed sat at a window booth at a small diner two blocks from the lab. A morning stabbing of a young woman at the Lexington street subway station during rush hour had forced them out into the heat. The situation made worse by the fact that after she was stabbed, the still at large suspect had pushed her onto the tracks and in front of an oncoming train, leaving them with a 'big fucking mess'. Speed's exact words when he and Sam had gotten down onto the track to see what waited them. Even he had a difficult time keeping the bile down while they collected various body fragments.

Now they grabbed a quick bite with crime scene photos and autopsy results spread out on the table top. The photos had caused the poor waitress to completely blanch when she saw the contents while re-filling their drinks.

"I'm telling you right now, Sam," Speed said, sipping at a coke. "This was not a random thing. If it was a random thing, you'd just push the person in front of the train and that's that. This is New York. You know how many poor bastards get pushed in front of a train by some wack job just for shits and giggles?"

She dipped a grilled cheese sandwich in a side of mustard and bit into it. "So you're thinking premeditated. Or at the least, personal."

"Think about it. Perp stabs her ten times in a crowded station. I mean, once or twice is enough if you do it right. Whoever did this, went nuts and couldn't stop once he started. What's that the calling card of?"

"Crime of passion." Sam concluded, digging into a side salad.

"Love makes people go fucking nuts. Especially unrequited love or a nasty break up. Trust me."

She grinned as she bit into a piece of cucumber drenched in ranch dressing. "Speak from experience, Tim?" she asked.

"Yeah." he replied. "Work experience. Saw this kind of thing tons of times in Miami."

"Sure you did. What happened? You went crazy over a girl? Or do you have some psycho ex just waiting to pounce? Maybe she's even watching us right now, thinking we're together."

"You have a vivid imagination." Speed informed her, pointing at her with a french fry.

"Oh come on, Tim." she sat back in her seat and sipped at a tumbler of ice tea. "You cant tell me you didn't have a girlfriend back in Miami. Or at least someone you were interested in. You're too cute to be single."

"I had no time for a girlfriend or to be interested in anyone." he said.

"Okay...so then who was the girl you were fighting with over the phone when we left the scene this morning?"

"What makes you think it was a girl?" he asked.

"Guys only get that hot under the collar when it's about a girl. And I'm a girl and I've gotten a lot of guys hot under the collar."

He grinned. "I bet."

"So..."

"It was not a girl." Speed insisted.

She stared at him skeptically.

"It was a woman." he said.

"Same damn thing!" she laughed and tossed a balled up napkin at him. "Ex girlfriend?"

"And ex co-worker."

"Bad break up?"

"She cheated on me with a homicide detective."

Sam sighed. "Something about them homicide detectives..."

He frowned.

"Sorry. I was commenting. Not condoning." she helped herself to one of his fries.

"Where to you put it?" he asked in amazement "You eat all that and you're still small enough to fit in someones pocket."

"Good genes." she reasoned. "So is that why you left Miami? Because of this woman?"

"That's part of it. The other part would be the twenty two I took to the chest."

"Were you together long?"

"Couple years. Had the ring bought and everything. Found out while I was in the hospital that she'd been doin' the guy for a few months. John Hagan. Heard not too long ago he killed himself. Now while I hate to sound bitter, it honestly couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

"That's harsh. Her doing that do you, I mean. As for being bitter, we've all been in that boat at one time.Trust me. So what did she want?"

"She said she just wanted to see how I was doing. Personally, I think she's keeping tabs on me."

"Does she know?" Sam asked. "About you and Carmen?"

"I told her I was with someone and that I was very happy. And that's when she freaked out. She wants me to come back to Miami. Try again. I told her no way in hell. I'm the happiest here than I ever have been in my life. Well, except for all these screwed up cases. Flack still on nights?"

"He just finished his last one. Last time we talked, he was heading off to get some sleep. Which he doesn't get enough of it seems."

"'Cause you're always raping him." Speed concluded.

"This may be difficult believe, but we haven't had any since Monday."

"You poor deprived people. Carmen and I have a day up on you."

Sam sighed and rubbed her full stomach. She checked her watch. "I think we should get back. We've gone over our hour."

"Didn't the medical adviser say to stay indoors?" Speed asked."Well, we're indoors."

"Nice try." Sam said and finished her ice tea.

"I gotta get started on the trace off what's left of the vic's clothes." Speed sighed as he slid out of the booth.

"AV is where I'm heading." Sam said, slipping out as well and gathering up her purse. "Check out the tunnel security tapes seeing our guy is on the lam." she opened her purse to take out her wallet.

"What are ya doin'?" Speed asked when she took out her cash. "Put that away. Guys always treat."

"On dates maybe." Sam pointed out.

"Then we'll consider it a date." he said and tossed some bills on the table top and gathered up the files.

* * *

"It is way too hot out here." Sam complained, stepping out of the diner and slipping a pair of stylish, over sized Paris Hilton style sunglasses on her face. She fanned herself with her hand and thanked God she'd had the good sense to cut all her hair off.

"It's not the heat," Speed reminded her as they began their walk to the car. "It's the humidity."

"So what is it in Miami?" she asked "A dry heat?"

"Pretty much. And far more bearable. But you know what, come February when we've got snow up to our ass and we're falling on said ass because of all the ice, we'll be wishing it was summer all over again."

"True." she agreed.

A middle aged man with slightly thinning hair and thick glasses and dressed in a wrinkled suit, suddenly stepped directly in their path, preventing them from going any further.

"Got a problem, buddy?" Speed asked.

"Detective Samantha Ross?" he asked, ignoring Speed.

"Well it obviously isn't me." Speed said.

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"You've been served." the man said in response and shoved a folded piece of white writing paper in her hand.

"You people are fucking vultures." Speed declared.

The process server glared at him and stalked away.

"Yeah..." Speed called after him. "Thanks. You have a nice day, too."

"What the hell is this." Sam wondered aloud and opened the paper.

"Work related?" Speed asked curiously.

Her eyes blazed and her grip on the paper tightened. "That son of a fucking bitch." she said.

"What's wrong?"

"Zack. He's taking me to court!" she waved the paper angrily.

"For what?"

"Defamation of character. And he's suing me for emotional pain and suffering."

"What? Come on. Let me get this straight. He plans on kidnapping you and doing who knows what to you and he's taking you to court? What the fuck is that? Let me see." he motioned for her to pass over the paper.

She handed it over. Their fingers touched. He noticed her hand was trembling with anger and furious tears sparkled in her eyes.

"Take it easy, Samantha." he said gently and closed his hand over hers. "This is what he wants. Don't give him that. It's a bunch of crap and you know it."

She looked down at his hand on hers, stared at it for a few moments and then pulled her hand away. She was unnerved by the thought of how his hand was felt so strong and so warm. And so right.

Speed looked down at the papers and read silently for a couple of minutes. "You ask me, this is fucking nuts." he commented. "I wouldn't worry too much about this. Good department lawyer will get this tossed out in a heart beat."

"I'll have to go to Phoenix to testify." she said, voice trembling.

"Won't come to that." he said.

"How do you know?"

"I've seen shit like this before and it almost always amounts to nothing. Don't worry, Samantha. This..." he held up the paper. "is nothing but a big bunch of bull shit and I'm surprised any lawyer would take Zack up on this. Worry more about going there to testify against him in three weeks at the pre-lim. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Trust me. You've got nothing to worry about." he handed her the paper. "Don't let him fuck you up when you're just getting it together. It's not worth it. Okay?"

He ran a hand over the back of her hair, resting it softly on her neck. "Trust me." he said.

She nodded and shifted sideways a step in order to move away from his hand.

They continued on to the truck parked a block away. Truth was, despite what Speed said, she was worried about Zack. He had proven he was capable of just about anything.

Speed watched her from the corner of his eye. As a friend, he was concerned about her. He'd witness first hand what Zack was prepared to do to get back at her, and something inside told Speed there was a lot more waiting to come out.

Sam stepped off the curb and prepared to cross the street to head to their vehicle. So lost in thought that she didn't even see the bicycle courier barrelling down right on top of her. In fact, she wasn't even aware she was in any danger until someone yanked her out of the path of the oncoming threat and she caught her foot on the curb and fell right into someone.

Right into Tim Speedle's chest, his arms going around her waist instinctively. She could feel his heart pounding against her. His breath on the top of her head. She could smell him. And felt a warmth flutter in her belly and a tingle travel from head to toe.

This is not good, was her first and only thought.

She looked up at him. "Thanks." she said simply.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Thanks to you."

They stared into one another's eyes. He didn't release his tight hold on her slender body. He could smell her faint, floral perfume, felt his heart hammering in his chest. His dark eyes searching golden ones. Shocked to his very core at the sudden powerful urge to kiss her.

"We... uh..." she stammered. "we should get going."

"Samantha..."

"We have to go Tim." she said firmly and wriggled out of his grasp.

He watched her as she hurried across the street to the truck and slipped into the passenger seat. She sat with a trembling hand to her forehead, covering her eyes.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought.

* * *

Sam was in the AV lab, sitting in front of a bank of monitors, a pair of glasses on her face an a bottle of water and her journal and a pen sitting within arms reach. The computer mouse in one hand, and a pen in the other as she jotted down detailed notes on a yellow pad of paper. She'd been finding it hard to concentrate all afternoon. She had a wicked head ache that wouldn't dissipate despite the three Tylenol she'd already taken. All she could think about was the incident with Speed on the sidewalk after lunch.

How can I even be thinking about these things? she wondered, feeling disgusted with herself. My best friend's guy? Another co-worker? When I'm all ready despretly and madly in love with someone else? On top of that, the Zack issue . When she'd reached the lab, she'd gone straight to Mac and he put in a call to a department lawyer and the Phenoix PD to ask what the hell was going on.

Her cell phone, sitting on top of the monitor directly in front of her, rang noisily and she reached for it. Pressing talk without even looking at the call display.

"Detective Ross." she answered.

"Hey, baby." Flack said in a weary voice. "I just got up and got your message. What's up?"

"You should be still sleeping." she scolded him.

"I did sleep. About four hours. Think I'm going through some form of insomnia or something."

"You just need something to help you sleep." she said. "A little TLC. Or in the case of your dirty mind, a little T and A."

He laughed. "That would help." he agreed. "What's going on?"

"I'm in AV going through some tapes. A girl got pushed off the Lexington and seventy eight subway platform this morning. After she was stabbed repeatedly. So far, I have no usable shot of the perp. All I know is that it's a guy. At least that's what witnesses told Angell."

"How goes it with the wicked witch of the west?" Flack asked.

"It goes. You sound exhausted. You should try getting some more sleep."

"I should." he agreed. "What's up? You sounded upset on your message."

"I got served today." she told him.

"Case related?"

"Zack related."

"What does that motherfucker want?"

"He's suing me." she said bitterly.

"For what?"

"Defamation of character and emotional pain and suffering."

A litany of profanity escaped from Flack's mouth. Some words she'd never even heard before.

"Tell me how you really feel." she said when he finished.

"What is that guy's major malfunction? After what he did to you and what he was planning on doing? Give me a fucking break. And where would he find a lawyer that would agree to that?"

"Probably one of his dirt bag friends." Sam sighed.

"You okay?"

"I had my little melt down. I'm okay now. I wrote in my journal and took some of my happy pills. I am all good."

He sighed. "I'm worried about you." he said.

"What else is new? That could be your new full time job. Where do you have time to do police work when you're always babysitting me?" her tone was far more miserable than she'd wanted it to be.

"Samantha..."

"You know I hate it when you get like that." she said. "All big brother protective, treat me like a little kid."

"Would you rather I didn't give a shit?" he asked.

"No. I just would rather you didn't treat me like a baby all the time."

"Oh I'm sorry." he snapped. "Guess I just love you enough to want you to be okay. My mistake. From now on, I won't bother."

"Don, I didn't want this to turn into a fight." she said. "I just wish you'd stop babying me."

"Maybe you need it. Fucked up shit seems to follow you around."

"My mother always did say I was an asshole magnet." she reasoned.

"Thanks. So now I'm an overprotective asshole."

"That is not what I meant." she argued.

"How about you call me when you're not such a bitch." he suggested. "I'm gonna go back to sleep."

She sighed. "Don..."

"I'm turning the ringer on the phone off so don't bother calling me back."

"Don..."

"I'll pick you up at eight. I'm hanging up."

"Don!!"

The line went dead. He'd hung up. She stared at the phone in her hand, flabbergasted, then chucked it across the room. It hit the far wall and immediately shattered. She struggled to compose herself, the got up to retrieve the pieces.

Speed stepped in. Watched her scrambling on the floor for a couple of minutes before clearing his throat.

She looked over. "What?" she snapped.

He held his hands up in self defense. "Easy... I just came to see how things were going. Obviously not too good."

"I broke my phone." she said and tossed the largest piece at him.

"That's coming out of your pocket." he told her. "What happened?"

"A man. Always a man!"

"You and Flack get into it?"

She plopped back down in her seat. "Just... I'd rather not talk about with you. Okay?"

"Okay. I just came down to tell you about the less than stellar trace I found. The impact of the subway practically obliterated everything." he pulled a chair up beside her and said down. "I managed to find two hair samples on a piece of the vic's clothing that are down in DNA. A small fibre sample that to me resembles a green army jacket that may have come from the perp. I've got it in GC/MS now. "I also found a residue of white powder in the vic's purse. I did a narco kit and it was negative. Also in GC/MS as we speak. How about you?"

"There is no usable image of the perp on the platform camera." she sighed. "But it did give me a shot of him fleeing down the tunnel. I haven't gone through the other tapes yet."

"Wanna take a break? Go grab a coffee?" Speed asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea." she replied.

"It's just coffee. No biggie."

"I just think that you and I need to avoid being alone together." she said.

"We're alone right now." he pointed out.

She sighed and sipped her water. "Tim...'

"We're working a case." he reminded her. "We can avoid each other."

"Tim, I don't know what happened earlier..."

"You fell into me." he said. "I saved your ass from being creamed by a bike courier."

"You know what I'm talking about." she nearly snapped.

"I think that whatever you may have felt or whatever I may have felt, is just better left unsaid. For everyone involved."

She stared at him. "I felt nothing." she told him.

He stared back. A smirk on his face.

"Did you?" she asked.

"If I did feel something, what would that change?" he retorted.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. I just wanted you to know that I know you're lying."

"So then you're lying too?" she shot back at him.

"I wouldn't call it lying." he said. "It's more pretending it didn't happen for the greater good of our relationship and the relationships we're in."

"I think you should go back to trace now." she suggested and went back to her tapes.

"You're gonna have to deal with this at some point." he told her. "We're working this case. Your best friend is my girlfriend. We can't avoid each other forever."

"I am not avoiding you." she informed him. "I am avoiding me."

He frowned. "That does not make any sense."

"I'm avoiding what's going on in my head and that's the way I need it to be." she told him.

"If you don't face it now, then when we all go out, one of them will pick up on it and before you know it, we'll both be single again. And I don't know about you, but I kind of like sleeping beside someone every night."

"What do you want me to say, Tim?" she asked. "You want some confession? What do you want? It's not like you're being totally honest with me."

"We're attracted to one another but we're in love with other people." he told her. "That's normal and people deal with it. You need to deal with it before you start freaking out and causing major problems that affect our relationships. People are gonna notice if you start avoiding each other and then they'll start asking questions."

"You know what!" she snapped. "Enough! Just get the hell out of here!"

"You need to deal with this." Speed said.

"I am not having this conversation with you, Tim! Please just leave me alone for a while."

"Sam, I just don't want Carmen thinking I have a thing for you and I don't want Flack breaking me in half for thinking the same thing.'

"You're in more denial than I am." she snorted. "So you take that denial and get the hell out of my AV lab."

"Fine. When you feel like growing up, let me know." he pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up.

"Don't hold your breath." she said.

"Don't intend to." he retorted.

"Grow up, Tim. What do you want me to say? Let's go rent a room and get it out of our systems?"

"I don't know what to do." he admitted

"Fine. I'll help you out. Just for you, I will pretend as if none of this ever happened."

"Good. 'Cause nothing did happen."

Her face clouded over. "Just leave me alone." she said, voice wavering. "You have no idea how much that hurt."

"What did I do or say to hurt you?" he asked.

"All I want you to do is admit it!"

"What do you want, Sam!" he wanted to grab her and shake her. "You want me to say it was something? Fine. There was something. I felt something. But I don't want to act upon it. I just wanna pretend that it didn't happen so I can go home and look Carmen in the eye and mean it when I tell her she's the only one."

She turned back to the monitors. "I think you should go." she said.

"Fine. I'll go. You wanna be like that. Fine." he stalked across the room and threw the door open, the glass shuttering as he slammed it behind him.

Sam sighed and watched him pass by the window in front of her. Sighing heavily, she reached for the pen and the journal, flipping it open to a new page. She wrote the time and the date. Then the initials TS and a question mark. She sat and thought for several minutes before she wrote again.

_Tim Speedle: where do I start?_

* * *

Stella caught up to Sam in the hallway outside of Mac's office as Sam was leaving for the weekend. Stella was surprised to find the younger woman in a black sundress adorned with bright yellow and blue swirls that tied around her neck, little black heels and make up adorning her all ready stunning face.

As he came out of the locker room twenty yards away and saw them there, Speed just stood and watched the exchange.

"Whoa..." Stella said. "Check you out. Hot date?"

"Don and I are going to dinner with Danny and Erica."

"Well you look amazing." Stella praised.

"Thanks. Don will be shocked. I think he thinks I don't even own a dress."

"Danny seems to be the happiest I've ever seen him." Stella commented. "Good for him. Knew all he needed was a good woman. And great work on that case today. The jealous exes always seem to find you. You and Speed did a great job."

"Thanks."

Stella held out a new cell phone. "No charge. I convinced Mac that you just dropped it at the scene and it broke. Next time, can you throw something that's not breakable?"

"I will."

"Enjoy your weekend off, kiddo. Have a good night."

"You too, Stel."

The older woman smiled and squeezed her arm lightly and headed down the hall.

"'night Speed." Stella said as she passed him.

"'night." he said in return.

Sam turned to head for the elevator.

"Sam! Wait up!" he called, hurrying to catch up with her.

"I have to go." she told him.

"I know. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what happened all day today. You know, the personal stuff. It got way out of hand and I didn't mean to upset you or hurt you in any way. I want us to be friends. Can we do that? Forget about how we feel and just go on with our lives?"

"As far as I'm concerned," she said and hiked a small black purse onto her shoulder. "it never happened. We can be friends, Tim. That's it."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry." he said.

"So am I."

He held out his hand. "Friends?"

She was reluctant to shake his hand. Scared to feel something, anything for him. In the end she shook it. "I have to go, Tim." she said.

"Have fun." he said and pressed the down button on the elevator for her.

They stood in silence for a long time. Finally there was a loud ding as the elevator arrived. It was empty.

She stepped on and pressed lobby. "Who knows," she said, holding the door open. "another place, another time, maybe... never mind. See you tomorrow night."

"You keep thinking like that, you'll give yourself another issue." he said.

"One more won't kill me." she laughed and removed her hand from the door. "Good night."

"Good night." he said. "Don't get too drunk."

"That's tomorrow night." she informed him.

* * *

After she cooked him dinner, Carmen and Speed went up onto the roof of her apartment building. He managed to get access by flashing his badge at the super. They brought along a blanket and sat together on the ground. She was between his legs, resting back against his chest, his arms tightly around her. They stared up at the stars. Talked about nonsense. Just held each other.

"I need to tell you something." Speed said after a long , comfortable silence.

"Uh-oh." was Carmen's response.

"Nothing like that." he assured her. "I just need to tell you..." he sighed heavily. "that I'm falling in love with you.'

She didn't respond.

"Does that scare you?" he asked.

"A little." she admitted. "Does it scare you when I tell you that I'm falling in love with you?"

"A little." he said.

She untangled herself from his strong arms and got to her knees and turned to face him. She held his face in her hands and gently kissed his forehead, his eyes, his nose,his chin. Then his lips.

"How about we both be scared a little together?" she suggested.

He smiled and she kissed him. Long and deep. His hands slid from their stop on her slender hips to her ass, squeezing it gently and pulling her tightly into him.

"How about we go back downstairs." he said.

"Actually... I was thinking. It's very romantic up here."

She yanked her top off and tossed it to the ground. She reached around to her back for the clasp on her bra, but he beat her to it. He unhooked it effortlessly and tossed it to the side. She closed her eyes and sighed and buried her hands in his thick hair as he leaned into her to suckle at her breasts.

"I like your way of thinking." Speed said and lay back with her on top of him.

She kissed him until they were both breathless.

"Make love to me, Tim." she said quietly.

Tim Speedle didn't need to be told twice.

**Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing. Keep it up please! It's nice to know my hard work and staying up 'til 2 a.m is being appreciated!**


	32. Chapter 32

**WARNING: THIS IS RATED M**

**A little bit of everything**

"She's the giver I wish I could be  
and the stealer of the covers  
she's a picture in my wallet  
of my unborn children's mother  
every day that passes,  
I only love her more  
yeah she's the one  
that I'd lay down my own life for."  
-She's Everything, Brad Paisley

* * *

It was close to midnight when they left the small Italian restaurant in mid-town. The night had been one filled with a lot of laughter and sharing of stories on the job and of the two girls during their childhood years. Flack was relieved to see that there'd been at least some happy memories in Samantha's childhood. Weeks she and Adam had spent at their grandparents in Albany during the summer months along with their cousin, who was an only child and in need of other children to be around. It was nice to her smile and hear her laugh as she reminisced about horse back riding and camping out under the stars and roasting marshmallows and just the hell the three of them had caused. More so the girls than Adam, who was meek and mild even then. The biggest laugh was reserved for the time they shaved his eyebrows and hair while he slept. And when those weeks ended and Erica went back to her trust fund and emotionally absent family, the other two went back to sheer hell.

But the pain lingered just under the surface no matter how much she laughed and smiled. Flack could see it in her eyes. It was always there. A sadness that never seemed to fade no matter how hard he or any one else tried to take it away. Going to Gus would help her, but he knew that those wounds would never fully heal, that her heart and her soul would never be completely whole again. That the past would always be part of her. And he accepted that no matter how bad it ripped him apart inside.

And now, after a couple too many glasses of wine that had rendered her giddy and talkative in the passenger seat of his SUV, all Flack could think about was how the abuse had gone on for so long and not one person stepped up to do anything about it. How does that happen? From grandparents on down to school teachers and neighbours. How do people not notice two kids that weren't bringing food to school and who wore dirty tattered clothes and long sleeves even in the summer? And if they did notice, why the hell didn't they do anything about it? How do you live with yourself knowing that's going on?

While as a human being he couldn't rationalize it, as a cop he knew kids slipped through the cracks all the time. Child Protective Services fucked up a lot. He'd seen many a kid pulled out of home and sent back in when the parents supposedly cleaned up their act, then standing over the body of the same kid months later after the 'reformed parents' beat him to death in a fit of rage. The system wasn't fool proof and good people got hurt and killed all the time. But it didn't stop you from wanting to grab a hold of that case worker and shaking the hell out of them and asking them what the hell they ever thought sending that poor kid back. He didn't make the laws or the rules. He couldn't protect every kid out there that desperately needed it. But he could protect her and make sure nothing like that ever happened to his own kids. Whenever his own kids came about, that was.

"Have you ever seen Danny in suit before?" she asked, snapping him out of his daze.

Up to that point she had Justin Timberlake on the radio and was singing along about some guy done wrong by a girl and how she was going to get hers in the end. He had no idea what the title was or even half the words, but what he did catch was something about what goes around comes along. He was not a Justin Timberlake fan. Whether the guy had a sexy back or not.

She had her heels off, feet tucked up under her, his suit jacket over her legs after she'd complained she was cold. Two daisies she'd scooped from the vase on the restaurant table tucked behind her ears. A little girl trapped in a grown woman's body. A little girl that had never been allowed out at the proper time. Flack wasn't sure if he found the innocent pixie thing appealing or scary. Because one minute she was all adult and the next minute she was child and he didn't know how to deal with the sudden transformation. All he knew was that he loved her and would do anything to protect her. Anything.

"One that actually fits and requires matching shoes and a tie?" he asked. "No. It's a first. I didn't even think he owned a suit."

"Maybe he bought it just for her." Sam reasoned. "To make an impression. We love sharp dressed men. Why do you think I hooked up with you as opposed to a uniform?"

"Here I was thinking it was my boyish charm and my sense of humour." Flack said.

"Sarcasm you mean."

"Hey, what you call sarcasm, I call a sense of humour. Makes you laugh, doesn't it?" He reached over and tickled the back of her neck. The most sensitive spot on her body other than the obvious. "Doesn't it?"

"Sure. When I'm not ready to kick your ass." she giggled and grabbed his hand and held it tightly on her leg. "What did you think of my cousin?" she asked.

"I thought if you were to die your hair blond, you two could pass as sisters more than you and Adam do as brother and sister. 'Cause other then the freckles, you and Adam look nothing alike."

"Everyone says that. I used to torment him as a kid by telling him that the mail man was his real father. What else did you think?"

"She seems like she's got a good head on her shoulders and she's outgoing and fiercely intelligent and sarcastically funny. All the same things I love about you."

She smiled. That smile that crinkled her nose and made her eyes sparkle. "Her and Danny seem to really like each other."

"You kiddin'? Danny's nuts about her. I've never seen him that crazy about someone since..." he didn't want to say the name. It was in the past and it was one of those things that still tore him up. "Aiden." he finished with effort.

"She was the CSI that was murdered? By one of her suspects?" Sam asked curiously.

Flack nodded. "It goes a little deeper than that."

"I know. I heard. But I didn't know her and it's not my place to judge. We all make mistakes and I'm sure she felt like she had no other choice. I know all of you were really close and it was tough when she left and even worse when she died. I didn't know that her and Danny were a thing."

"They weren't. He just wished they were. Aiden didn't go with guys she worked with. It was her main rule. Unlike some of us, she stuck to it. Not that the guys didn't try, though."

"Were you one of them?" Sam asked.

Flack just smiled.

"You got a thing for Brooklyn girls or something?"

"It's the tough girl, kiss my ass attitude." he reasoned. "It's sexy. And the accent."

"I do not have an accent." Sam argued.

"Sweetheart, when you really get going, even I have a hard time understanding you."

She laughed. "So says the guy from Queens with a worse accent than me." she yawned noisily and rested her head back against her seat.

"Speed called me earlier." Flack said.

Sam's eyes snapped open. "For what?" she asked calmly, expecting the worst.

"He was just telling me about your guys' case. How you and him had to chase the boyfriend down the east eight eight alley and you cut him off by going through some store's back exit and football tackling him."

"It was one of my finer moments." she agreed. "I kicked his ass. Tim kept needling him about getting his hand handed to him by a girl. It was hilarious. Angell was useless. As usual."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"She'd be the type to fire wildly and kill me and say she did it 'cause she thought I was the perp."

"Sam, that is not something to joke around about." Flack said sternly.

"Hey, we all go sometimes." she reasoned.

"I do not want to be having this conversation."

"Me?" she continued. "I want to go down in a blaze of glory no one will ever forget."

"Samantha... Please. Okay? Don't talk like that."

"I'm just saying that..."

"I know what you're saying." he cut her off abruptly. "Just don't say it. Okay? It gives me the creeps."

"Sorry. That's only if I die on the job."

"Oh my God! Stop! Please! I don't even want to think about that."

"We accept the risk when we become police officers." she reminded him. "We accept we could die in the field."

"I know. I just don't want to think about something happening to you. Okay? So please... we're having a good night. I don't want anything ruining that."

"You're right." she agreed. "I'm sorry." she leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. "And I'm sorry about earlier. For being so mean to you. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just that I'm not used to someone wanting to protect me and take care of me and when you get like you do, it's just overwhelming. I shouldn't have been such a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." he said. "I shouldn't have been such an immature bastard by hanging up on you. I just wanna keep you safe, Samantha. I just think you deserve to have someone take care of you and look after you. And I want it to be me."

She kissed his cheek. "I want that, too. I just need you to relax a bit. Just a bit. I've been doing this job a long time and I've always been able to handle myself. So please, just tone it down a bit."

"I'll try. You make it hard. You're not exactly the easiest person to be with."

"I thought you liked a challenge." she teased.

"You go far beyond anything I've ever had to put up with."

"But you wouldn't change me for anything in the world." she declared.

He smiled. "No. I wouldn't."

* * *

She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes. Silence fell over the car and Flack started to think she'd fallen asleep until several minutes later she started to giggle.

"What?" he asked.

She smiled, and without opening her eyes, started to belt out Bon Jovi's Blaze of Glory.

"Stop." he said, stuck between laughing and wanting to kill her.

She continued, knowing how bad it was irritating him after their 'death talk'. But the moment was too much fun to pass up. Not to mention the wine she'd consumed put her in a weird, giddy mood.

"Stop." he repeated, this time more forcefully.

She ignored him. Her voice got louder.

"Samantha, I swear to God if you don't stop..."

She just smirked and kept going.

He sighed, turned on his signal, nearly caused a huge pile up crossing three lanes of traffic, and swung into the nearest dark alley. Switching off the ignition, he leaned across her and opened up the glove compartment and took out his cuffs. Slapping one on her wrist and the other to the steering wheel.

"If you don't stop, then we stay here all night until you fall asleep." he informed her.

"Fine... fine..." she said and opened her eyes. She glanced down at the handcuffs attached to her wrist. "Kinky." she said with a giggle.

He sighed. "You gonna be good?" he asked.

"Depends what you mean by good." she replied, and leaned across the seat and slipped her free hand between his legs and began to fondle him through the fabric of his pants.

"Do you mind?" Flack asked.

"Do you?" she retorted, squeezing his cock lightly, then undoing the zipper. She slipped her hand inside both his pants and his boxers. Her hand was soft and warm and skillful as she stroked him softly at first, then harder and more insistent.

"You got some seriously magic hands." he told her, unable to stop himself from closing his eyes and moaning and arching into her palm.

"So you tell me." she said, and continued to stroke him until the tip of his cock leaked pre-cum and he was rock hard.

He felt her shift beside him as well as being handcuffed to the steering wheel would allow her to, then gasped loudly when he felt her soft lips and then the tip of her tongue on the head of his shaft.

"Shit, Samantha..." he moaned as she teased him relentlessly with her mouth.

He twisted her hair in his fingers, guiding her movements. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, finding it even more of a turn on to watch her pleasure him like that. Stroking the shaft firmly while her tongue swirled around the sensitive head. He felt himself getting closer and closer to climax and didn't want to come that way.

"Okay... enough... enough..." he said, although it was killing him to say it and to push her away gently. He fumbled with a set of keys in the compartment between the seats and unlocked the handcuffs. "You." he said sternly. "Back seat." he jerked a thumb behind them. "Now."

"Are you insane?" she asked.

"Now." he demanded and tucked himself back into his pants and climbed out.

Sam decided to just take the easy way seeing as she was small enough and climbed effortlessly over the front seat and dropped into the back.

"You're crazy." she said when he got in beside her and slammed the door shut.

He grabbed her and kissed her hungrily and demandingly, pushing her down onto her back and coming down over her. Their lips and tongues in a frenzy.

"This is nuts." she declared with a giggle when he shifted above her, attempting to get more comfortable.

"Hey, you said you never made out in a car before." he reminded her. "Here's your chance."

"Someone is going to call the cops."

He laughed. "We are the cops. Besides, the windows are tinted. Whose gonna see in?"

He hiked her dress up, yanked down her skimpy black lace underwear so hard he tore them.

She slapped his shoulder. "Those cost me a hundred bucks!" she informed him.

"A Benjamin for underwear that don't cover your ass? You got ripped off."

"They're Victoria Secret." she huffed, not expecting him to understand the importance of nice underwear.

"Sam, you can get the same damn pair for twenty at Target. You can probably buy five of them for twenty."

She frowned at the suggestion. "Don't you think this is going to be a little messy?" she asked. "I mean, on the seat and on your pants?"

"It's called a dry cleaners. And right now, the only thing I care about is hearing you scream my name. So do me a favor. Be quiet."

"You just said that you wanted me to make noise? Which is it?" her hands were unbuckling his belt and snapping open the button and yanking down the zipper.

"You know what I meant." he said and she pulled his pants and boxers over his ass. He kissed her deeply, then trailed his lips down onto her slender neck. His hand slipped up her silky thigh, forcing her legs open. He heard her gasp when he unceremoniously slipped two finger inside of her. His thumb stroked her clit. Working her up a bit.

She brought her head up and bit his neck.

"Fuck, Samantha! That one hurt. It's gonna leave a mark."

"Then stop wasting time!" she snapped and began licking and sucking at his neck and his ear.

He moaned, shoved his fingers farther into her, the fingers of his other hand digging into the soft flesh of her hip. He removed his fingers from inside of her and rubbed the tip of his cock against her moist opening, enjoying the sensation before thrusting into her hard and fast.

She cried out in pleasure. Her head tilted back exposing her throat to his lips and his tongue, his teeth grazing against the tender skin as he moved inside of her, deeply and smoothly.

After four days of no sexual contact whatsoever, they both knew it wasn't going to take long for both of them to reach completion. And neither of them wanted to take their time or wait long to begin with. He reached between them to stroke her clit, increase the pleasure for her as he thrust into her quickly. Her gasping and the crying out she was doing let him know that she was close, and when he felt her inner muscles tighten around him and and felt her body shudder beneath him, he new it was just a matter of seconds.

He rubbed hard at her clit and she came instantly and powerfully. Her body arched into him and she screamed his name over and over. She had slipped her hands up the back of his shirt and now her nails dug into his shoulders and raked his back. After only a few more thrusts, he came as well, burying his face in her neck as he moaned her name and sent himself inside of her warm, supple body. Nearly collapsing on top of her but having enough sense to put one hand down on the seat so as not to crush her.

They lay there, his forehead resting on hers, their hearts pounding in unison. Waited for their breathing to return to normal and for their bodies to cease trembling.

He kissed her softly.

She wiped sweat of his brow with gentle finger tips.

Flack checked his watch. "Shit." he cursed.

"What?" she asked.

"Beat cops check this alley in about five minutes." he replied.

"What!?" she brought her knee up and pushed him off of her. "You knew that and you stil insisted on doing this?"

"If you hadn't have talked so much, we would have been done and long gone." he told her, sitting back against door and getting re-dressed from the waist down. He turned and opened the door and got out and went back behind the wheel.

She fixed her dress, smoothed down her hair and climbed back into the front seat. "You are such a horny bastard." she declared with a broad smile and clipped on her seat belt.

He smiled, put on his own belt and started the ignition.

A loud rapping came to the driver's window.

Sam jumped. "Oh fuck!" she whispered. "Now we're going to get arrested! Who will bail us out? Carmen and Tim? Mac?"

"Just relax." Flack said calmly and opened the compartment between the seats once more and took out his badge. He hit the power window button.

"Everything okay in here?" a young fresh face beat cop asked, shining his flash light inside.

Flack showed his badge. "Had to stop 'cause my girlfriend thought she was going to be sick. Just thought I'd stop and let her get some air."

The officer bent down to look at Sam. "You okay, miss?" he asked.

"I'm fine." she squeaked, a hand over her eyes, trying not to laugh.

"You should take her home, detective." the officer said to Flack. "She looks a little flushed. And there's a hell of a flu bug going around."

Flack smiled. "Wouldn't want her have that." he said. "Thanks."

"Have a nice night." the officer said and tipped his hat at them.

"You too. Be safe out here." Flack hit the button to put the window back up and watched the beat cop through the rear view mirror until he disappeared around a corner. "He's gone now." he told Sam.

She couldn't hold it any longer. She burst into hysterical laughter.

"Maybe we should have asked him to join in." Flack said, putting the SUV in reverse and looking over his shoulder as he pulled out of the alley.

"I don't share." she said and began to hiccup.

"You woulda had to if he'd shown up any sooner." Flack said, starting to laugh at the sound of her hiccuping relentlessly. "You okay? Need to stop for some water or something?"

She shook her head. Tears poured down her face and she clutched her chest as her whole shook with each loud hiccup.

"I think we should go home." he said.

"I think (hiccup) that's a (hiccup) good (hiccup) idea. (hiccup)." she managed.

* * *

The alarm went off at eight. It was an obnoxious, loud buzz that nearly shook the bedroom walls. They had to be at the YMCA in Harlem for eleven. Flack had been volunteering for years. Since he was just a uniform, and until two years back had kept up a weekly commitment. Now it was done to every two or even three weeks. Today was an outing to the Bronx Zoo that the kids were looking forward to. Even Sam was excited. She hadn't been there since she was just a kid.

Flack rolled over onto his side and slammed his hand down on the offending alarm. He was half awake and groggy. Just a few more minutes, he tought and rolled over to his other side, reaching out for the warm, sleeping figure beside him. Only there was none. His hand fell on nothing but cold sheets.

He flopped over onto his back. His arm over his eyes. He felt exhausted. Every inch of him. Cursing himself for only managing a few hours sleep after such a long week. After they'd arrived back at the apartment, a heavy make out session had began in the elevator that nearly resulted in him hitting the stop button and doing his business right there. They managed to make it to the bedroom, where he lit some candles and watched the flames dance on her pale, smooth skin as he made love to her slowly and lovingly. To make up for the rushed coupling earlier.

He could hear dishes rattling down the hall in the kitchen and the stereo in the living room tuned into a local top forty station. He could smell the aroma of something delicious cooking and it made his stomach growl noisily. Food now took precedence over a few extra minutes of sleep. He sat up and climbed out of bed and found a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt to slip into and headed out.

Samantha was at the stove, making scrambled eggs and bacon and dancing slightly and singing along quietly to John Mayer's Waiting on the World to change. She was wearing a pair of pink and white short shorts and spaghetti strapped tank top adorned with pictures of Hello Kitty. Bright yellow plastic barrettes holding her bangs off her forehead and the toes of her bare feet painted a shocking blue.

He was a little surprised to say the least. The last he'd see her she had nothing on and now here she was in his kitchen, wearing something that barely covered her ass or chest that looked like she'd bought it in the kids department.

She felt his presence in the doorway and looked over. Smiling brightly. She had no makeup on and looked years younger, those freckles and her pale skin on display.

He had never seen a woman so breathtakingly beautiful in all his life.

"Hey." she said cheerfully.

Flack entered the kitchen and stood behind her, his hands on her hips. He kissed the top of her head and then the back of her neck.

"Good morning." he said. "Sleep good?"

She nodded. "You?"

"Always do when you're beside me." he told her. "You know, every day is a surprise. Last night, you were all seductive sex kitten, this morning I come out here and you're wearing pink pyjamas with Hello Kitty on them."

"I like to keep you guessing." she said.

"Apparently."

"I bought them two days ago at Macy's. You like?'

"They're cute." he pushed a strap to the side and kissed her shoulder. "And amazingly sexy all at the same time."

They sat out on the balcony with their breakfast and glasses of orange juice and a coffee for him and tea for her. Flack could count the number of times he'd been out on his balcony on one hand in all the years he lived there. Since Sam came along, he was out there every day. She liked to sit out there and read. And write in her journal. Sometimes they even ate meals out there. Once they even fell asleep out there when she insisted they put a blanket down and look up at the stars.

"You know," she said, sipping her juice. "Now that Sarge is gone, I will have to go back to Adam's eventually."

"Why?" Flack asked.

"Because all of my stuff is there. I didn't bring that much here when I ran away. I'm running out of underwear."

"So either buy new ones, do laundry or not wear any." he said.

She grinned and rested her foot in his lap. "You would so love that last one."

He just smiled.

"I'm just thinking that I can't live here with you for the next two months until mine and Carmen's place is ready." she said.

"Why not?"

"Don, we talked about this. We agreed it was too for that."

"No. You said it was too soon and I went along with it."

"I just think it's something we're not prepared for yet." she reasoned.

"Sam, you've been living with me for two weeks. What's another two months? I'm not saying that you not move in with Carmen. I'm all for it. I'm just saying that I don't see a need for you to go back to your brother's where there's no space and no privacy."

"Why don't you just admit you like having me here, Don and that you don't want me to leave."

He sighed. "You're right. I do like having you here and I don't want you to leave. I like coming home to you and sharing a bed with you and waking up beside you and I'm not ready to give that up yet."

"Was that so hard?" she asked and leaned back in her chair and tilted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. Relaxed and content.

She heard him stand up, lean over the table and take her hand and open it. Felt the slight weight of something in her grasp when he closed her fingers into a fist.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked down. She opened her hand. There in her palm was a ring. A beautiful white gold band with alternating channel set tanzinites and diamonds. "Jesus..." she breathed. "This isn't a..."

"No." he said quickly. "No. I mean... not yet... not for awhile."

His answer tugged at her heart a little. She scolded herself for being so immature and overly romantic to even expect something like a marriage proposal after such a short period of time.

"So what is it?" she asked, trying to conceal the slight hurt.

"A ring." he replied simply.

"I know that. What kind of ring?'

"I don't know. A just because ring, I guess. Because I love you and I wanted to buy you something and I wanted you to realize I'm serious about us. Something you can wear until the real thing comes along. And because I thought you might like it."

"So like a committment ring type of thing?" she asked.

"I guess. If that's what you want it to be called." he replied.

She wanted to ask what he wanted to call it but was afraid to hear the answer. "What hand should I wear it on?" she asked instead.

"Doesn't matter. I like the let 'cause then guys know you're with someone."

"It's beautiful." she said and stood up and leaned over the table to kiss him. "Thank you."

He kissed her in return. "I do love you, you know." he said.

"I know." she said in return and sat back down. She slipped the ring onto her left ring finger and held her hand up to admire it. "It feels perfect." she declared.

* * *

She's different outside of work. Once that badge and gun come off and she's away from the microscopes and the computers and all the scientific talk. She's more carefree and light hearted. She laughs easily and readily. Gone were the casual business attire. That afternoon she was wearing a pair of orange flip flops, denim capri shorts and a pair of Paris Hilton inspired shades. She was wearing the same yellow YMCA shirt as he was, but she'd gathered it at the waist and tied it.

The kids loved her. They fought over who got to sit beside her on the subway and the ones who insisted they were too old and big and bad to hold anyone's hands were bowling each other over to grab onto hers. She was patient and answered every question directed her way. She laughed at their jokes whether funny or not with that girlie, bubbly giggle of hers. The kids kept asking if that was his girlfriend. And if it wasn't, why not?

And as Flack watched her, setting the kids up at a picnic table in the refreshment area of the busy Bronx Zoo, the way she diligently doled out snacks and drinks, opening juice and pop bottles for those that couldn't manage or cleaning off filthy faces and hands, the thought struck him that she would make an amazing mother. To his kids. He'd like her to have his kids. And the thought petrified him. He'd never thought that about a woman. Ever. And as she sat down next to him at a table behind the kids, she noticed the pale, almost scared look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." he said and sipped a bottle of water. Thankful he wore sunglasses and she couldn't see the frightened look in his eyes.

"You're acting weird." she declared and snapped open a bottle of apple juice.

He picked absentmindedly at the label on his water. "You think we're moving too fast?" he asked.

She took a sip of juice. "What do you mean?" she inquired.

"You know, fast as in we're gonna end up in a burning wreck if we don't slow down."

"Good time to tell me how you feel. I'm glad I'm in therapy."

"What? I don't mean that. I mean with the kids."

"What kids? You're mental. They're just kids from the Y."

"No. I mean our kids. The ones we're going to have."

"What the hell are you talking about, Don? You mean I'm pregnant and I don't even know it?"

"No! Fuck woman! Don't make this so difficult for me. I looked at you with the kids and I saw the mother of my children and it freaked me out a bit."

She sipped her juice quietly. "Do you think we're going to fast?" she asked. "And be honest."

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't want kids yet but I can't help think that you'd be a fantastic mother."

She smiled and leaned into him. "Really?"

He nodded and leaned into her and kissed her. Much to the amazement and amusement of some of the kids.

"EWWWW!" one exclaimed. "Blue you just kissed a girl! Gross!"

."It's just a little freaky." he said after the excitement died down. "I've never felt these things before. About marriage and kids and all that crap. I guess I think you're too good to be a cop's wife. You deserve better than that. I saw what it did to my mother and I don't want that happening to you."

"You're afraid you're going to be just like your father." she concluded.

He sighed and nodded glumly.

"Donnie, that's not even remotely possible. You're a good man and I won't let you ever become like him."

"Can you really promise me that, Sam?"

"I can." she assured him. "Let's face it. Unlike your mother, I will kick your ass."

He smiled and rubbed the small of her back. "That's what I love about you. Not afraid to put me in my place."

"It's nice to know the thing you like best." she teased. "Here I was thinking it was my gorgeous looks and my sweet personality and all along you like the fact I'm a bitch the best. There must be something else you love about me."

"Sure." he kissed her cheek and pressed his lips to her ear. So the kids wouldn't hear what he was about to say. "Your ass for a start. And those porn star noises you make. They make me hard just thinking abut them.'

One of the kids tugged on his shirt.

"Blue... you guys want some ice cream?" the eight year old held out two dripping soft serve vanilla cones he and an older kid had ran over and bought.

"Ice cream!" Sam enthused and accepted one. "Thank you. Ice cream is my favorite."

The kid blushed slightly and ran off, excitedly telling his buddies she'd smiled at him.

"What you need," she said and dipped her tongue into the cone. "is a cold shower."

"Only if you're in there with me."

"The children. They don't need to know you're a dirty minded perv. And we won't have time. We're suppose to meet Carmen and Tim and the rest of the team later."

"Come on. Speed and Carmen will be late themselves." Flack said, eating his own ice cream.

"Better make it worth my while then." Sam told him. "Gotta be good for me to face the wrath of Carmen. You know how anal she is about people being late."

"Tell you what." he said quietly. "I'll do that thing with my tongue you like so much and then maybe I'll pull your panties down nice and slow and..."

"Enough! Not near the children! I need to go to the bathroom and find some ice cold water to cool me off." she stood up and kissed his cheek. "I'll be back."

He watched her go. Checking out her ass and the way she filled out those shorts.

One of the older boys, an eleven year old named Kyle, sat down beside him, watching Sam as well as she headed for the public bathroom.

"What are you looking at?" Kyle asked Flack.

"When you're older, you'll understand." Flack assured him.

"You're checking out the booty aren't ya, Blue."

He nearly choked on the ice cream. "Kid," he said, shaking his head in amusement and disbelief. "You are way too young to even know what that word means."

_**Once again, a great big THANK YOU to all of you reading and reviewing. PLEASE keep it up. I really look forward to hearing from you guys!! I'm glad you're enjoying reading this as I am writing it!!**_


	33. Chapter 33

**Reality sinks in**

"I never knew what it was to be alone, no  
'cause you were always there for me  
you were always waiting  
but now I come home and it's not the same  
it feels empty and alone  
I can't believe you're gone  
I'm glad he set you free from sorrow  
I'll still love you more tomorrow  
and you will be here with me still"  
-In Loving Memory, Alter Bridge

**Thanks to Aphina for sending me this amazing song.**

* * *

Carmen stood in front of St. Michael's Roman Catholic Church in lower Manhattan, face tilted towards the electric blue sky, eyes closed, the sun bathing her face in warmth, drying the tears that streamed down her cheeks, the slight breeze ruffling he hair. Hands clasping a heavily wrinkled piece of paper in one hand, the charm bracelet in the other.

Please Sam, she thought, rubbing that bracelet between her thumb and forefinger. Give me some strength.'Cause right now I don't think I can do this.Please just give me a little bit of help here. Give me some sign that you're okay.I need some sort of sign that you're here,that you didn't suffer and you're okay.That you made it okay. Please Sam, just some sort of sign.

But no sign came. She had hoped and prayed that one would. But all around her, life went on. Birds sang cheerily in the trees, people on the sidewalk talked happily and noisily, cars on the street zoomed by and honked their horns. It was someone elses grief and suffering and sorrow. Not theirs. And she hated them for that. Because this was her sorrow and it was unbearable. The heaviness in her heart that wouldn't go away. The tears that wouldn't stop flowing during the drive over and in the fifteen minutes she'd sat in her car and bawled like a baby and ranted and raved at the injustice of it all. The thought that this was it. This was the end. This wasn't a terrible mistake or a dream like she'd been praying and begging God it was.

Samantha was gone. And so was part of Carmen's soul. Sam had been that one person that she could count on to make her smile when there didn't seem to be anything to smile about. Cracking some joke at a tense or emotional time that put Carmen in a state of giggles. That bright smile and crinkled nose that greeted you cheerfully whether it be eight in the morning or well after midnight. That Brooklyn accent and sometimes unabashedly foul mouth that had you staring at her wondering what planet she'd just dropped off of. The best friend any one could ever ask for. Sam had a trusting, pure soul that developed over time, and Carmen would often sit back and watch Sam with her children, see the infinite patience and unconditional love she possessed for not only them but her husband, and be in complete and utter awe.

The only sister Carmen ever had. Who she had trusted with her deepest, darkest secrets. Who she had trusted with her life. Behind that girl next door appearance and that tiny body was one tough cookie. And Carmen knew if it was Sam behind her while executing a warrant or chasing down a perp or sitting across from a hardened murderer in interrogation, that the situation would be in complete and utter control. And that control was what Carmen so desperately needed. Because all of her's had slipped away.

She choked back sob and wiped at her tears with the back of her hand and opened her eyes and looked down at the paper in her hand. A eulogy. She'd never given a eulogy a day in her life and wasn't sure she wanted to make this her first. But Flack had asked her to do it. He knew the depth of the relationship the two women had had. That Carmen probably knew his wife better than he did. He was sure there were things Sam had told her that he had no idea about and he respected that unbreakable bond of utmost trust the two had shared. He never asked or pressured for information.

And it was why Carmen couldn't say no to him. Because he'd never come between that friendship and he had treated her 'sister' so well and with so much love and respect and adoration in the past ten years. She'd never be able to find the words to thank him for taking such good care of Sam. For making her so happy. And she admired him and respected him for that. Because Sam wasn't the easiest person to live with and he put up with a lot and still hung in there. Hell, he deserved a medal of valor for dealing with her and everything that came with her. And coming out of it relatively unscathed.

That last thought made Carmen laugh. A little laugh that surprised her. It had been a long time since she last laughed. Nearly three weeks. She'd been in the trace lab and Sam and Danny were out in the hallway and Danny was regaling her with his tale of shifting through a dumpster full of shitty baby diapers and maggots and a rotting corpse. Whatever Danny had said, Sam had let out this loud, bubbly laugh that echoed through the entire place and brought a smile to every ones face. It was a sudden, unexpected bright spot in an otherwise bland day. Two days later, she and Rick had stood at the departure gate at JFK, anxious and excited to go on their trip, having said goodbye to Sam and Flack who'd driven them there, and now watched as the other couple headed off hand in had. Ten years had done little to diminish the love they had for each other in their eyes or stop the little PDAs they'd always been known for.

"I better not get back and find out your pregnant again!" Carmen had called to her friend.

Sam had turned and given her that cherubic smile. "Bite your tongue... goodbye, Carmen."

That had been the last time Carmen had seen Samantha Flack. She was smiling and laughing and still very much alive. And Carmen hadn't thought about it until she and Rick made their frantic trip back to New York that those last words Sam had ever spoken to her had been so out of character for her. Sam never said goodbye. She made sure other people didn't say it, too. It was 'so long' or 'see ya later.' Because, Sam had reasoned when questioned about it, goodbye was permanent.

Permanent. That's what this was. There was no erasing what had happened or what was still to come. For Carmen there was an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being there at the end, at the side of a friend who had always, always been there for her. Flack had told her not to feel that way. Sam didn't realize anyone was in the room when the team each made their way in one by one after he'd announced he made the decision to remove her from the breathing tube. She showed no signs that she was aware of anyone or anything that was being said to her. He wasn't even sure if she realized he was with her to the bitter end. It was a closure he desperately looked for every day. A sign of some sort that she'd known he was there . That her last minutes on earth hadn't been lonely ones. That she'd heard even half of what he'd said. He needed someone that could answer all the hard questions.

Carmen just wanted to know if her friend forgave her for not being there. To hold her hand and smooth her hair away from her face and tell her not to be afraid, that it was okay to let go. God, that hair. So fine and baby soft, worn to the middle of her back. Carmen could still remember that day Sam showed up with her Posh Spice 'do and the shock that had registered on everyone's faces. She'd looked damn cute, but the waist length tresses had given her an innocent Rupenzul look as opposed to a Detective Spice look, a nickname Danny had labelled her with. The nickname had been enough for Sam to vow to grow her hair back.

Carmen laughed again. At least she found that a little easier now. To think of silly instances they'd experienced together and be able to chuckle. To see Sam in her ugly neon green Croc shoes she wore to and from work because she loved how comfy they were. Or the time she lost her nearly eight grand engagement ring in the garbage can in the trace lab when she pulled off a pair of gloves and didn't realize until Stella asked an hour later where her ring was. A wild tossing of every trash can in every lab had ensued, Sam declaring she was going to be sick over the entire thing and for no one to ever mention it to Flack. Especially after maxing out every credit card left to max out to buy the thing. Carmen could see that day vividly. Sam not knowing whether to laugh or cry as she, Carmen and Stella dumped every trash can on the thirty-fifth floor. Eventually the ring was found and Sam promptly went out and got it re-sized smaller. Word had gotten back to Flack through a nosey lab tech, and after a minor freak out, he went out and put insurance on the thing. Because, as he had said, if it's going to happen to anyone, it's going to be Sam.

God, she'd survived a lot. She had been a tough, stubborn little bitch from the get go. She pulled no punches and shot from the hip and made a lot of friends and a fair share of enemies. She'd locked up countless amounts of dangerous felons and solved more cold cases than anyone else in the entire lab. She'd been nearly strangled and poisoned to death by crazed perps and had chased more bad guys through the darkest alleys of the city than Carmen cared to remember. Yet the greatest achievement in her life was becoming a mother. She admitted that readily. She'd been scared when news of that first pregnancy came about. She was afraid that her violent upbringing would prevent her from being an adequate mother. Perhaps even cause her to repeat the behavior. But any doubt and misgivings she or anyone else may have had, all vanished that moment in the living room when Dr. Sheldon Hawkes had announced it was a boy. No one expected a home birth. Everything was good to go at the hospital. But the baby had had other ideas and decided three weeks early was a good time to make his entrance. A persistent bugger just like his mother, he'd caused her to go from breaking her water to all out labor in less than three hours. Hawkes had been on speed dial and she'd called him in a state when her water broke, home alone, at three in the morning. He'd come over just to check on things and ended up playing OB.

Flack was right. If it was going to happen to anyone, it would be Samantha. And it had happened. A supposedly secure scene had turned into blood bath. She'd gone in there alone to process, happy and laughing, talking about the first trip in ten years that she and Flack were taking in two months. Sending the kids to stay with Danny and Erica for one week and Carmen and Rick the second. She'd never been outside North America. Flack had decided they both needed a break and bought them a vacation to Ireland. Carmen liked to think that that was the last thought on her friend's mind as she lay there dying on that cold warehouse floor. That she hadn't thought of anything else than her kids and her husband and all the times they'd had together. It had taken all of thirty seconds to rob a husband of his wife and four children of their mother. And the entire city of New York one hell of a cop.

Carmen looked down at the paper in her hand. At the words she'd managed to scrawl through a river of tears. She knew what she had to do, but wasn't ready to do it. She wasn't ready to say goodbye.

It was permanent.

* * *

"Carmen."

The soft, deep voice of her husband snapped her out of her memories. Rick was the last person she wanted to talk to our even see. She turned to him and allowed little more than a kiss to the cheek and a stiff hug. As far as she was concerned, her husband had been emotionally distant since Sam's death. He could have managed a lot more than a five minute phone call to Flack. He could have stopped by the house and offered his support or condolences instead of shunning the person that had been instrumental in bringing them together. But Rick had been absent and Carmen couldn't forgive him for that.

"You been okay?" he asked.

Carmen stared at him incredulously and shook her head. "My best friend was murdered." she said, the tone in her voice one of agony and vehemence. "She was family to me. She was murdered, Rick. She has a husband that's one step away from one of three things. Alcoholism, a mental breakdown or suicide. Hell, maybe even all three. There's four children that don't have a mother anymore. One of them is just a baby and won't even remember her mother. And you ask me if I've been okay?"

He did little more than stare at her.

"Where the hell have you been!" she raged. "You haven't even bothered to stop by the house! You called Flack for all of five minutes and it was to ask him about a case! A case!? When his wife just died! He's your friend, Rick!"

"He's my boss, Carmen." he corrected her. "When he got that promotion to Lieutenant, he became my boss."

"And that makes it okay to shit all over him?"

"I'm showing him my support at work. His cases are going down hill and I'm trying to pick up the slack. He looses his job, he won't be able to even feed those kids!"

"You cold hearted sonofabitch! The man's wife was murdered, Rick!"

"He has a responsibility to the badge."

"The badge!" Carmen fought the urge to smack him silly. "The badge! His wife is dead! He's falling apart and all you can think about is the badge!? What the hell are you even doing here?"

"You have a responsibility to me, Carmen!" he snapped back. "As a wife! I miss that!"

She shook her head. "You can't even respect that my best friend died! While you go on about the badge, I'm falling apart and trying to take care of her kids!"

"Those kids are not your problem, Carmen."

"You know what? Why don't you just..."

She stopped in mid sentence when she saw Danny, Erica and Flack approaching the church from behind Rick. An argument like that and Rick's cold words were the last thing that Flack needed to hear as he prepared to bury his wife. Danny and Erica were both talking quietly to him, Danny's hand on his shoulder, but Flack did little more than nod and divert his eyes from anywhere but the front of that church.

"Hey, guys." Danny greeted solemly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Carmen replied. She went to Flack and embraced him tightly and kissed his smooth cheek. "How are you doing?" she asked, and could barely see the pain in his eyes from behind his sunglasses.

"Okay." he replied simply with a shrug of his broad shoulders. In a soft tone that was so not Don Flack.

"How ya holding up, Flack?" Rick asked, offering his hand.

"How ya think he's holding up?" Danny retorted.

Flack didn't respond. He shook Rick's hand but what he really wanted to do was the knock the guy three ways from Sunday.

"You'll be fine." Rick said. "It'll all work out."

Danny shook his head and had to bite his tongue and look away. God give me strength, he thought.

'"Is that all you can say?" Carmen asked.

Silence fell between the group and Carmen saw Danny, Erica and Flack's eyes follow something behind her very intently. Their faces falling ever more than ever. Tears crept up in Danny's eyes. Erica chewed on her lip to fight off the emotion.

Carmen turned to look. A black hearse pulling up to the front of the church. Her stomach churned. The time was getting closer. When she turned back, she saw Mac, Hawkes, Adam and Flack's good friend and fellow Detective Tony Scagnetti coming down the steps of the church.

"I think we should go in now." she said gently and took Flack's hand. "Do you feel ready to go in or do you want to wait a little longer?"

"I don't know how I feel." he admitted. "Or what to do."

"How about we go in and sit down?" Carmen suggested. "Me and Danny and Erica will be right with you all the way."

"Let's go." Danny said softly and tightened his grip on his best friend's shoulder. "We should go."

"It's okay." Erica whispered, a hand on Flack's back.

"I can't do this." he said as the three of them steered him to the entrance. "I just can't.'

"Yes, you can." Carmen assured him. "It's hard. I know it is. But we're here for you, Don. You need to do this. You have to do it. You know that. It's time to say goodbye, Don."

"I need to. I know that. But I just can't." he said.

"I know. But its time to let her go. None of us want to and I'm so sorry that you have to do this. But it's time." Carmen told him.

Danny fought back tears. He had to be strong. For Flack. For all the times Flack had been there for him.

Flack stopped at the bottom step.

"Once this is over," he said quietly. "that's it. And that's what hurts. If I don't go in there, it goes on."

"I'm so sorry, Don." Carmen said, unable to stop the tears.

"It's like if I don't go in, she's still here. Maybe she just took off and she'll smarten up and come back one day. Sounds messed, I know. But it's how I feel. Like she's not gone if I don't go in there."

"But she is gone, Don." Carmen said. "She is. And the only thin that is gonna make this better is you stepping in that door and saying goodbye. It hurts like a bitch, believe me. But you need to accept that she's not coming back. And she can't be at peace until you let her go."

"It's never gonna get better, Carmen." Flack said.

"But it'll get easier to deal with." she assured him.

* * *

Tim Speedle stepped out of the church and into the bright sunshine. He was back in New York to fulfill Flack's request that he be a pall bearer. A request Speed accepted with the utmost respect and honour. He arrived from Miami that very morning. He was a little tired from working a double the day before and felt uncomfortable in a well tailored black suit and an oceanic blue shirt. The top two buttons undone and no tie.

He was going down the stairs as the small group was coming up them. He and Carmen's eyes met and time seemed to stand still. All the love and pain still there. Had it really been almost nine years since he left? She looked just as beautiful as the day he met her. Her auburn hair glistening in the sun, dressed conservatively in a simple black wrap style dress. To her, he looked as dark and brooding and oh so handsome as the day she saw him on the subway.

"Flack." Speed said, and offered his hand.

The two men shook hands before Speed pulled the big detective into a tight hug. "I am so sorry, Don." he said.

"Thanks." Flack responded, his voice hoarse. "Thanks for comin'."

"Told ya I'd be here. "I just wish I was here under better circumstances."

"Me, too." Flack said, drawing away. "Me, too."

"We should go in." Carmen suggested gently. "You're almost there, Don. Almost there.'

He nodded and took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"Good to see you, Tim." Carmen said as they passed each other.

"You, too, Red." he responded and watched her disappear inside. He sighed heavily and headed down the steps.

* * *

"Tim." Mac said, shaking his old employees hand, as the six men gathered at the back of the hearse.

"Speed." Danny nodded in greeting.

"Nice to see you again." Hawkes said in his deep, soothing voice.

Speed layed a hand on Adam's trembling shoulder. "I'm sorry, Adam." he said. "Your sister... she was something else. She meant a lot to me. More than anyone could ever know."

Adam managed a sad smile, tears in his eyes. "Thank you." he managed, voice barely a whisper.

"How's things in the sunshine state?" Danny asked. Anything to keep his mind occupied while waiting for the priest to come and give the good to go.

"Busy." Speed replied. "As usual." he nodded at Hawkes. "Heard you're a professor now."

"Forensics at Columbia." Hawkes said.

"And married to that CSI that took my place. Good for you. So Adam's a detective now, Stella runs the lab, Flack's made lieutenant, Danny's first grade and Mac's commish. What about Hammerbeck? He still around?"

"Died two years ago." Danny said. "Cancer."

Speed shook his head. "That's too bad." he said sincerely. "He was an all right guy."

"How about you?" Hawkes asked. "Wife? Kids?"

"No kids but I do have an ex-wife." Speed replied.

The priest, in flowing white robes, appeared at the top of the stairs and nodded at them. The hearse driver came around to the rear of the vehicle and opened the back. Revealing a gleaming cherry wood coffin with pewter handles, draped in an American Flag.

"Never thought I'd be doing this." Mac said with a sigh, as the driver slid the coffin out so they could grab it.

"Always thought it would be one of us." Danny said, as his hand closed on the cold handle. "Never in a million years did I dream it would be Brook..." he sobbed noisily and dropped his chin to his chest.

Hawkes laid a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"I'm sorry." he said. "I'm okay. I'll be okay. We'll all be okay."

"You okay, Adam?" Speed asked, standing on the opposite side of the former lab tech.

"I think so." he said and closed his eyes briefly.

"Danny..." Mac said gently.

He gathered himself, sniffled noisily. "I'm good." he declared. "It's all good."

Mac sighed heavily. He laid a hand on the top of the casket, saying his own private farewell before grabbing the handle.

"It's time." he said.

_**I did it!! I didn't think I'd get to finish and post but I did!! Sorry to anyone who I may have brought to tears with this.**_

_**Aphina: Quite the far cry from fluff and smut, isn't it! Lol! Big thankies again for that song! The Y kids were a blast to write and it was nice to delve into Flack's head. I'll be doing a lot of that!**_

_**Mauveine: I promised and I delivered. LOL! Hope hit the spot!!**_

_**laplandgurl: I needed an ice cold shower, too! **_

_**Madison Bellows: glad you liked the hotness. I should have known an eleven year old in NYC would know what booty is when my nine year old nephew in Toronto knows a lot worse! LOL!!**_

_**sl5828: Welcome! Lots more to come! Look forward to hearing from you!**_

_**Bluehaven4220: Flack just looks like he always has at least one foot in the gutter. That boy makes me think impure thoughts. LOL!!**_

_**Please oh please! To all of you readers, I beg you to R n R!!**_


	34. Lock up the liquor and keep the kids

**THIS IS RATED M FOR A LITTLE BITTY BIT OF SMUT NEAR THE END. DON'T LIKE TWO CONSENTING ADULTS DOIN' THE NASTY, DON'T READ!!**

**Lock up the liquor and keep your kids indoors**

"She don't mean nothing, she's just having fun  
tomorrow she'll say oh what have I done?  
Her friend's will joke about all the stuff she lost  
ya tequila makes her clothes fall off."  
-Tequila Makes her Clothes Fall Off, Joe Nichols

* * *

"I want to get a cat." Sam announced.

It was close to nine at night and they had taken the last two available seats on the subway into mid-town. Its crowded and boisterous, filled with Friday night revellers on their way for a good time and shift workers tired and weary from a long shift, anxious to get home to a cold beer and some relaxation. Flack was using the browser on his cell to pass the time, while Sam, her arms wrapped around his bicep, peered to see what he was looking at. She smelled amazing. The J-Lo Live perfume she kept in the bathroom and knew drove him crazy. Just a little spritz in her hair and he was a goner. It didn't hurt that she looked devastatingly sexy in a sleek dark denim skirt that just grazed the top of her knees and hugged her ass and her hips, and a shimmery bronze halter top with a dangerously low back. And those Manolo Blanik shoes she'd wanted so badly and nearly fainted when he stopped off on their way home from the zoo and bought them for her. When she'd recovered enough to ask him how he paid for them, he'd just shrugged and said that's what credit is for.

"A what?" he asked, looking down at her.

"A cat. You know, four legs, whiskers, a tail."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"What? You're not a cat guy? You're more the pit bull and rottweiler type?"

"It's not that. It's not that I have anything against cats. I'm not going to go and purposely run down one if I see it crossing the street. I ain't gonna gun it down like you do to innocent squirrels."

"It happened once!" she laughed. "Let it go! It's not like I meant it."

"Sure... my girlfriend, the psychopathic small animal killer wants a cat she can do unspeakable things to."

"I'll do unspeakable things to you in your sleep if you don't knock it off!" she laughed and looked up at him, her golden eyes sparkling.

He leaned over and kissed her. Long and soft. "Now back to this cat thing." he said. "You get a cat and I can't even come within five feet of you. Allergies. Massive allergies. We're talking sneezing and breaking out in hives."

"Well I don't want that. What about one of them hypo-allergenic cats with no hair?"

"Are you nuts? Those things are just plain ugly. Get a bird or a rabbit or a guinea pig or something like that.'

"My gun might accidentally go off and kill the last two."

He laughed. "Hey, you said it. Every store that sells small animals needs to get an order of protection against you."

She giggled and kissed his cheek. He smelled so good and looked so damn good in a pair of well fitting jeans and a white button down shirt. "You're so mean to me." she pouted playfully.

"And tell me how you of all people would have time for a pet when you barely have time for me?"

"A pet I can boss around and it doesn't give me lip." she reasoned. "Not to mention it's cute and cuddly. Not that you're not cute and cuddly when you want to be..."

"So get a dog. Some small yappy thing just like you."

She frowned and pinched the inside of his thigh hard enough to leave a mark.

"Oww...okay, okay...I meant meant to say some pretty, sweet submissive little thing like you."

"Yeah... I bet. Submissive. You wish."

"What? There isn't anything submissive about letting someone handcuff you to the bed?"

"I was not being submissive. " she argued. "I was enjoying it."

He shook his head. "You are one sick, twisted little girl."

"Me!?" she exclaimed. "It was your idea! What does that say about you?"

"Says I have a kinky girl who likes me to kinky things to her."

She pinched him even harder the second time.

"Shit! All right, all right! Just joking! Take it easy! Come here..." he put his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her tightly against him. Kissed her temple, then her ear. "I'm just teasing, you know that. You know I love you. Didn't I show you that for the last two hours?"

She smiled and giggled softly when he kissed her neck. "I have to admit," she said. "Those multiple orgasms nearly put me in a coma."

"And you're complaining?"

"No. Not at all." she declared and turned her face into his and kissed him long and soft.

"Maybe we should just get off at the next stop and go home." Flack suggested.

"And leave Carmen without her best drinking buddy? She would not be impressed."

"You're not planning on getting too drunk are you?"

"What do you consider too drunk?" she asked.

"You paying homage to the porcelain God all night."

She laid her hand over her chest. "I promise you on my life that I will attempt to keep my stomach contents to myself."

He sighed. "You always been a drinker or something? Where does a little thing like you store it all?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you trying to suggest something?"

"What? No. I'm just saying that..."

"I do not have a drinking problem." she informed him.

"I never said you did." Flack defended himself. "I just asked if you've always drank a lot and where you put it."

"So you're saying I drink a lot." she concluded.

"No. What I'm saying if you'd listen to me, is that when you do drink you drink a lot for such a tiny thing. You tend to go a bit overboard. Like you don't know when to stop. Booze can only numb the time for a little while. Next day the pain is back along with a nasty hangover."

"Jesus Christ, Don," she huffed and moved as close to the window as possible, arms crossed over her chest. "Quit trying to psycho-analyse me all the time."

"I'm not. I'm just saying that it doesn't help anything. It's only temporary. You need to stop reading into everything I say. I wasn't suggesting or accusing. I was just commenting."

"Well do me a favor and keep your comments to yourself."

"Why do you do that?" he asked. "Get all bitchy and moody when someone tells the truth and it bothers you to hear it."

"I don't." she argued.

"You do. Wouldn't bother you if you didn't have a guilty conscience about it."

"I don't have a guilty conscience about anything. I don't have a drinking problem. When I go out I like to drink and when I drink I do it until I don't feel anything or remember anything. Why is that such a problem for you? You drink. Far more often than I do. You're always going out after work with Danny."

"The difference is that I can find my way home afterwards and remember by name." Flack told her. "You drink more in one night then I do in a week. That's dangerous. You can't tell me you think that that's okay.'

She just sighed.

"And on top of that, you're not even suppose to be drinking with the meds you're on. You trying to kill yourself?"

"Not lately." she mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. And you're right. You're always right. It's not okay. But I do it because I cope better with things and it's nice to be someone else for a while. A different me."

"But what about the people who love you the way you are?" he asked gently.

"I don't know how anyone could like me I'm so fucked up." she complained.

"I do."

"I meant normal people."

"I love you." he said. "And I don't like seeing you hurt yourself. And you seem to do that a lot. Revisit all the bad things, torture yourself instead of living in the present and letting yourself be happy."

A smile spread slowly across her face and she turned those golden eyes on him. "When did you get so deep?" she asked.

"I have my moments." he replied, and put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her back towards him, kissing the side of her head. "Just promise me you'll be smart about what you're doing. I don't want to see you get hurt."

She sighed and relaxed against him. "Why do you always have to be right?" she asked.

"It's not that I'm always right. I just make more sense. More education, less common sense. So what does that say for someone with a masters degree? Means you function like a ten year old."

She elbowed him in the gut. "What do you care? Not like you're with me for my brains."

"I happen to find your brains very sexy. And very intimidating. Scary when a woman is that much smarter than you."

"And in your case, that does not take much." she teased.

"Easy... easy... quit trying to be a comedienne. Just promise you'll take it easy tonight. Don't go overboard. I'm just asking for a little co-operation."

"But if I get really drunk, it'll be easier for you to take advantage of me." she said.

"It's not easy enough when you're sober?'

"Now whose being a comedian?" she laughed. "So you gonna buy me a cat or what?"

"You trying to get rid of me?" he asked.

She smiled. "Not in a million years."

* * *

They met Carmen and Speed outside of Tailgate's. A sports bar/night club in mid-town that was popular with the college crowd and some of the cops. Carmen paced up and down the sidewalk, irritated that her friends were over ten minutes late. She hated it when people were late. Speed teased her that she was as anal about lateness as he was about people messing with his trace lab. He sat on a nearby bench watching her grow more and more agitated with each passing second. Mostly though, he was thinking how hot she looked in a ruby red corset style top and black skirt that reached her knees and had slits up the sides, and killer black heels. her auburn hair flowing loosely down her back.

When Samantha and Flack did arrive hand in hand, Carmen first gave them a royal bitching out and then the two girls hugged each other and squealed in greeting.

"Can you explain to me why they do that every time they meet up when they see each other all day nearly every day?" Speed asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Flack said.

Carmen was eyeing Sam from head to toe approvingly. "Check out those shoes!" she exclaimed. "Are those the Manolo's?"

"They are!" Sam cried. "He bought them for me today. You like?"

"Love them." Carmen declared. "How'd you manage to swing that?"

"I've been a good girl." Sam reasoned. And check this out..." she held out her left hand.

"Oh my God!" Carmen grabbed her friend's hand. "It's gorgeous! You must have been a very, very, very good girl. Congratulations. You and Don will be so happy together."

"What? It's not an engagment ring, Carmen. It's too soon for that. It's a commitment ring. A just because ring."

"Well whatever you want to call it, it's fucking amazing. Look at that thing sparkle. Show Speed."

"Show me what?" he asked as he and Flack joined them.

Sam held out her hand.

"Very nice." Speed said. "Way to go Flack. Make the rest of us poor bastards look bad."

"And the shoes!" Carmen exclaimed.

"You're pathetic, Flack." Speed declared. "You just have to give her whatevr she wants, don't you."

"He always does." Sam said with a grin and grabbed Flack's hand and dragged him towards the bar.

* * *

Adam had long ago arrived with Hawkes and was discussing his lack of love life while the two shared a pitcher. Stella nursed a white wine as she listened to them, a smirk of amusement on her face. She didn't go out often with the team, but with Mac stuck working late yet again, she'd accepted the offer of a night out. Danny was alone, sipping Crown and Coke and spending most of his time text messaging Erica who was stuck on nights.

It wasn't long until the guys had made their way to the back of the bar and staked claim on two pool tables and were knocking back pitchers of beer and shots of JD and the three women were huddled at a table, engaging in a little girl talk and Carmen and Stella continuously inspecting Sam's ring.

"Looks like an engagement ring to me." Danny commented for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Well it's not." Flack told him yet again.

"Musta cost you a mint." Danny said.

"You'll punch me out if I tell you how much."

"Try me."

"Almost a grand."

"That does warrant a punching out." Speed declared. "A grand on a ring and six hundred on shoes? How can a homicide detective afford all that?"

Flack shrugged and sipped his beer. "I came into some money."

Danny frowned.

"Legally, Messer. Don't be an ass. You guys hear the latest about Zack? Serving Sam with papers?"

"I was there." Speed sighed. "Nearly knocked out the process server."

"Not right." Danny shook his head. "That sonofabitch plans to abduct her and to who knows what to her and he takes her to court? Tell ya, Flack, we should have killed him and hid the body."

"Like that wouldn't have come back to bite ya in the ass." Speed said. "Gotta trust the system."

"The system?" Danny snorted. "How do you do that when you're constantly seeing criminals go free?"

"You start getting disillusioned in the job and might as well quit." Speed said.

"Would you like it if this was happening to Carmen?" Danny asked.

"Why would you ask me that? Of course I'm going to say no. I didn't say it was fair."

"The guy is a fucking wack job and Brooklyn doesn't deserve that." Danny declared.

"I didn't say she deserved it." Speed told him. "The system is in place for a reason. It upholds the structure of modern society. Without it, we'd have no order or justice and the crime rate would be unspeakable."

Flack frowned. "Do me a favour and shut the fuck up. This is personal. Not work."

"If I wasn't being subjective, I wouldn't believe in the system and I wouldn't get up and go to work every morning." Speed said. "I do think that Sam has nothing to worry about. Any good lawyer will get that thrown out and we all know it."

"Wanna hear the latest?" Flack asked. "How good the system is? Mac heard from Phoenix PD. Zack is pleading temporary insanity. And you both better keep your mouths shut 'cause Sam knows nothing about it."

"Every system is flawed." Speed reasoned. "And why the hell haven't you told her yet?"

"Mac asked me not to."

"No one else knows?" Danny asked.

Flack shook his head. "Just me, Mac and now you two. He wants to tell her himself on Monday."

"Better have something nice planned for afterwards to take her mind off of it." Speed said.

"Yeah." Flack agreed. "Like a whole bottle of tranqs just for her."

"Go with some tequila and a box of oreos." Speed suggested.

"I'm trying not to contribute to her love affair with alcohol." Flack said.

"That leaves you with the oreos and good old fashioned sex." Danny told him.

"Comfort sex is often the best kind there is." Flack said.

"The sad part is how true that is." Speed sighed.

"I was thinking." Flack said seriously. "About retiring early, say around fifty, and moving somewhere nice and quiet."

"It's scary." Danny declared. "You thinking long term. Sam's changed you. In a good way, mind you. You gotta future there, Flack."

"I didn't say with her." he joked. "How nice and quiet would that be?'

"You'd be bored if it was all sunshine and roses." Speed told him.

"You guys wanna hear scary?" Flack asked. "Today, I actually thought about kids."

Danny nearly spit out his beer. "Kids with Brooklyn? Now? Is she already knocked up or something?"

"She shouldn't be drinking if she is." Speed said.

"She's not knocked up." Flack assured them. "And I don't mean kids right now. I mean in the near future."

"How near?" inquired Danny. "A year? Five years? What?"

"I mean maybe next year or so." Flack said. "Sooner even. I don't know. And she's made it perfectly clear that she does not want kids if she's not married."

"I knew you'd fallen for her," Speed said shaking his head. "But wow."

"You telling me in a year I could be Uncle Danny? Holy crap. That is an engagement ring, isn't it."

"No." Flack sighed in frustration. "I am just saying she won't have kids out of wedlock and I'm not getting any younger. Am I making any sense?'

"A scary amount of sense." Speed assured him.

"This is all completely beyond anything I have ever been through." Flack declared ad finished off his beer.

"And you're freaking out, right?" Danny asked.

"I am beyond freaking out."

"Just take it one step at a time and you'll be fine." Speed assured him.

"You ever not wanted to go slow and you feel like your going nuts?" Flack asked.

"All the time." Speed replied. "That kind of thing unnerves me. I don't like losing control like that."

"You think that's scary?" Flack asked. "My ex called me while Sam was in the shower tonight."

"What the hell did she want?" Danny said bitterly.

"She says she misses me."

Danny laughed. "She misses not being fucked by a blue collar guy. Tell her if she wants to play police man that bad, you'll lock her pampered ass up for the night and she can get a taste of that first hand."

"Tried telling her I had a girlfriend, but I don't think she believed me." Flack poured himself another beer. "She said that she knows I miss her and what she can do for me."

Danny snorted. "She is unreal. You told me being with her was like fucking a corpse."

"It was. Seriously horrible. She just lay there and let me do all the work."

"No wonder you and Sam can't get enough if it was that bad." Speed said. "From that to all this hot, crazy sex?"

"I do not kiss and tell." Flack said.

"You just let the scratches and bite marks do the telling." Speed concluded.

"You should call Devon and tell her to come down here and let her and Sam scrap it out." Danny suggested. "Sell tickets. All the money you'd make you could retire now.'

"Something tells me I'd make more money off of a video of Sam and Carmen molesting each other like they are right now on the dance floor." Flack said.

* * *

They all turned to look. Sure enough, Carmen and Sam were bumping and grinding to Justin Timberlake's SexyBack. It was better than what Sam had been doing earlier, up on a table dancing to The Dope Show by Marilyn Manson while Danny slipped money into the waist band of her skirt. After wards, he'd declared she'd make a good stripper or a suicide girl. To which Sam had replied that a female room mate she'd 'fooled around' with had become a suicide girl. Before the guys could pick their jaws off the floor, Carmen was announcing she and Al had done the same thing and that Al had mentioned the innocent little girl from college she'd corrupted. Flack couldn't get over the fact that Sam, who insisted that she and this Al had done everything but oral, had actually done anything with a girl. Speed, upon hearing the admission from both Sam and Carmen, had announced this news was like all his Christmases rolled into one. And a mention of Al's tongue ring had convince Sam to go after they left the bar to get hers done. To which Danny had slapped him on the back and said "You lucky bastard."

And now, there they were on the dance floor. Two girls who swore up and down they only loved men and were just experimenting, enjoying themselves a little too much. And their eyes only widened more when at the end of the song, Carmen grabbed Sam and kissed her full on the lips and Sam didn't even resist.

"I don't know whether to be jealous or turned on." Flack said.

"I'm going with turned on." Speed said, turning off his cell phone after capturing the whole event on camera. "Jealousy is majorly over rated."

Sam and Carmen headed back, arms linked, secretly relishing the fact that thier little show they'd put on had gotten the guys so riled up. It was apparent by the stunned, yet awed looks on their faces.

"You're girl's a good kisser, Flack." Carmen informed him. "No wonder you have no complaints. I'm going to the bathroom. Sam, you coming with? You can show me what else you can do."

The guys watched as hand in hand, the two drunk women sauntered towards the bathroom.

"What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in that bathroom." Speed said.

"You guys think they'll actually do anything?" Danny asked. "You guys should go in there and see what's what."

"Wouldn't hurt to see if they're not passed out or anything." Speed told Flack. "Who knows what they're doing in there."

* * *

What they were doing was sitting on the sink ledge finishing off bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade and laughing hysterically over how worked up the guys had gotten over a plan the two girls had hatched over a week ago. They were still laughing and talking when both Speed and Flack walked into the wash room and busted the two of them.

"Get out!" Sam yelled. "This is the ladies!"

"And here I was thinking we'd get to see some girl on girl action." Flack said.

Sam laughed. "You are so gullible."

"I can't believe you two seriously thought we were coming in here to have sex!" Carmen exclaimed.

"Kick Carmen and Tim out and lock the door and maybe me and you can have sex in here." Sam told Flack.

"That's our cue to leave." Speed said and dragged Carmen out of there.

"You can't be serious." Flack said, watching as his girlfriend untucked his shirt. "In a bathroom?'

"You got what you wanted in the car the other night." Sam told him. "Now it's time for me to get what I want. Right here, right now."

"Sam, it's a public bathroom. Germs. Lots of germs."

"You'll only be touching me." she reminded him. "And besides, after the little thing with Carmen, I'm kinda turned on right now. All wet and everything."

"You have had way too much to drink." Flack said, prying her hands off his pants. "Let's just go home and..."

"We can home, you run the risk of me being too tired to do anything." she told him. "You don't want to take that risk do you?" she yanked her hands out of his grasp and began undoing his belt.

He decided he didn't. He went and locked the door. "You better not be thinking of Carmen when I do this." he said.

"I promise I won't say her name out loud." Sam teased.

He grabbed her and kissed her. Hard. Demanding. His hands sliding up her skirt to yank down the lace panties she wore. Pulling them all the way to her ankles and tossing them on the ledge of the sink before grabbing her by the ass and lifting her up onto the counter.

"Wait." she said and slipped back down onto her feet. Then finsihed with his belt, the button and the zipper on hsi pants before sinking to her knees and giving him head.

"You are one dirty little girl." he said, his hands buried in her hair.

She just smiled and continued with what she was doing.

He couldn't take it for longer than a few minutes. Then he was pushing her away and telling her to lean over the sink. "You sure about this?" he asked. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done anything like that. But he wasn't going to be telling her that.

She nodded, shuttering at the sensation of his hands squeezing and carressing her ass, opening her legs farther.

He teased her at first. Rubbing the head of his cock against her moist opening until she was begging him to fuck her all ready. he grabbed her by the hips and thrust into her, watching her face in the mirror in front of them. Seeing the pleasure that came over her face as she watched him as well, both of them smiling.

Someone pounded at the door. A voice telling whoever was inside to open the fuck up before they called the manager.

"You better hurry up!" Sam managed through gritted teeth.

He thrust into her harder and faster. She was trying to not make any noise as she got closer to orgasm and was failing miserably at it. He reached around her to clamp his hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Only to have her bite down hard.

"Fuck!" he nearly screamed himself, both from the pain in his hand and because when she orgasmed, her inner walls tightened around him and sent him over the edge almost immediately.

They took a few minutes to catch their breath and clean themselves up. When they finally emerged from the bathroom, a tiny Asian girl in a skin tight dress was waiting to get in. A huge smile spread across her face at the sight of the slightly dishevelled and flushed couple.

"I'm with the NYPD." Flack said. "Routine drug bust."

The girl eyed him from head to toe. "You wanna bust me too, officer?" she asked.

"No. I busted who I wanted."

"I bet you're good at your job." she said.

Sam offered up a huge grin of her own. "He's very, very good at it." she declared.

* * *

Two hours later, barely able to talk with the newly acquired piercing in her tongue that she couldn't stop admiring, Samantha and Flack listened as the piercing artist listed all the precautions she had to take in order to prevent infection. On the top of the list was rinsing with a mixture of peroxide and water, and refraining from smoking, alcohol and oral sex. The latter for at least three weeks.

Flack couldn't believe his ears. "Are you telling me that the sole reason I just shelled out eighty bucks can't happen for almost a month?"

"Live and learn." the heavily tattooed and pierced barely out of college guy told him.

"Just think." Sam said almost incoherently, her tongue swollen, sounding like she had a mouthful of cotton. "You've got something to look forward to."

**Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing!! Hope your all enjoying this! I am having e-mail issues and hopefully will be able to go back to returning them on Saturday. My apologies for not returning messages. I really do appreciate them!!**

**I am plugging Aphina's Devine Intervention and Madison Bellows' Brooklyn Bridges and their joint collaboration, What Ifs. Check them all out. You will not be disappointed!**


	35. Under cloud filled skies

**Under cloud filled skies**

"I see skies of blue...clouds of white  
bright blessed days... dark sacred nights  
and I think to myself... what a wonderful world."  
-What a Wonderful World, Louis Armstrong

* * *

There'd been no frantic rushes to the bathroom or bouts of prolonged, agonizing nausea. No hours spent holding a cool, wet face cloth to her forehead of the back of her neck as she hunkered down over the toilet or a bucket. There'd actually been complete and utter silence since two thirty in the morning, after she'd complained she was feeling dizzy and had a head ache and then promptly passed out cold in the backseat of the taxi they took home. So out cold that all the poking, prodding and pleading didn't even cause her to stir and Flack had no other choice but to carry her from curbside to bedside. It had been a bitch trying to hold onto her and dig his keys out and open the door without dropping her on her ass. She was normally as light as a feather, but her drunken unconscious stage had rendered her dead weight and her arms had been so tightly wound around his neck that it took real strength to pry her off in order to dump her in the middle of the bed. She had done little more than mumble incoherently as he stripped her off her shoes and her clothes and tucked the blankets around her securely before lying down fully clothed beside her and watching her sleep.

She looked like an innocent, carefree angel when she was sleeping. Her long dark eyelashes resting on smooth, pale cheeks, a slight smile curving her soft, full lips, chest rising and falling with each steady breath she took. All worries and stress and horrors banished for the time being. He'd smoothed her hair away from her forehead and the sides of her face and pressed feathery kisses to her cheeks and her lips and fought through a wave of panic when the thoughts of her being the mother of his children and his wife flooded through him. A wave that disappeared when she muttered "I love you, Donnie" in her sleep and rolled over and snuggled into him. Then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of love and adoration and pride he'd never felt before. And a slight case of guilt for not telling her about Zack or the phone call from Devon. He was still trying to convince himself that he did the right thing on both counts when he fell into a deep, fitful sleep.

Sam was still out cold when the alarm went off at nine thirty that morning. Bright sunshine filled the room, a breeze rustled the blinds and offered some relief from what would be another stiffling day. Flack had a massive head ache and sore back and was seriously contemplating calling in sick the second he reached for the alarm to turn it off and his spine craked as loud as it did. If it wasn't a mandatory personal meeting for the detectives with Sinclar and Gerrard, and he had a masive load of paper work to finish up, he woud have just curled up and went back to sleep. He grabbed something to eat, had a cup of coffee and a few Tylenol he prayed would at least calm the pounding in his head, and went and got dressed. Listening to the incessant mumbling and incoherent chattering going on behind him. You could almost carry on a full conversation with her while she was asleep. He'd tried it a couple times in fact. Asking her nonsense questions and getting even more nonsense in response.

Now, at a quarter after ten, he stood by the side of the bed, trying to pry the covers off of her and wake her up. She had a planned 'girls day' with Carmen, who was going to be at the apartment in less than an hour. Something about breakfast, lunch and dinner and Coney lsland. He didn't ask details, and after what he saw and heard the night before, decided to keep it that way.

"Sam..." he peeled away the covers she'd buried herself under. "Sam... time to get up..." he shook her gently by the shoulder.

"Leave me alone to die." she moaned, head under a pillow.

"Samantha..." he picked up the pillow and tossed it aside. "Gotta get up, sweetie."

She groaned loudly and rolled over onto her back and slowly opened her eyes. "My head hurts." she complained, talking strange from the swollen state of her tongue.

"I bet. You feel sick or anything?"

"No... just my head. And my mouth."

"Do you remember getting your tongue pierced last night?"

She nodded. "Just hurts. And my head... I want to just curl up and die!"

"There's some Tylenol and a glass of water and some tea on the night table." he told her.

"Thank you." she opened one eye to look at him. Took in his jeans and t-shirt. "Where are you going?"she asked.

"I have to go in for a few hours. For a meeting and to finish some paper work. Remember? You and Carmen are suppose to go to Coney Island today."

"Shit... that's today? I thought that was Saturday."

"It is Saturday." he said. "You gonna be okay? You can get to the bathroom and everything on your own?"

"Think so." she said with a yawn and went to sit up. Only to feel the entire room spin. She groaned and tossed herself back onto the mattress.

"Learn your lesson?" he asked.

She nodded. "I will never, ever drink that much again." she declared. "I promise."

"Good." he helped her into a sitting position and handed her three Tylenol and the glass of water. "Hope these will help. I gotta go.

Carmen will be here in an hour so you better get a move on. Sure you're okay?"

"I am." she said and swallowed the pills and the entire glass of water.

"Call me when you know you're coming back so I have time to get my other girlfriend out of here."

She frowned.

"I'm kidding. Just kidding. Just you. Only you. You know that. You need anything, you call me or better yet, text me so Gerrard doesn't have my ass for letting my phone ring during his meeting. Okay?"

"Okay." she said and sipped the steaming tea.

He leaned over and kissed her long and soft, keeping in mind the pain her mouth was in. "Gotta feeling I'm gonna love that tongue ring." he said with a smile.

She grinned.

"I'll see you later." he kissed her cheek. "Have fun. I love you."

"Love you, too. Be good."

"What kind of fun would that be?" he joked. "I left you sixty bucks on the kitchen counter. Use it for whatever."

"I don't need your money, you know."

"I know. I just like giving it to you. Making you happy." he ran a hand over her hair and along her face before kissing her again and leaving the room.

"Hey!" she called to him.

He paused in the doorway.

"Thank you." she said.

"For what?"

"Taking such good care of me. For lots of things."

He smiled. "You make it easy." he told her. "Call me. So I know you're okay."

"I will."

"And get some breakfast. Put some food in your stomach. Maybe some greasy bacon and eggs. You know how you like them, with the yolk all runny and sticky and..."

"Don!" she exclaimed and clamped a hand over her mouth. "Stop it! You'll make me sick!"

"Or some toast with that nutella crap on it that looks like human shit."

"Stop it!" she pleaded. "Seriously!"

"I don't want to say I told you so..."

"Then don't!" she cried and tossed a pillow at him.

"And remember to take care of your tongue. Wouldn't want it getting infected and having to get it amputated."

"That would be the end of the world for you, wouldn't it?" she teased.

"My world would cease to exist." he agreed. "Gotta go. Make sure you call."

"Yes, mom." she sighed. "Can you bring me home some ice cream and oreos?" she asked hopefully. "Please?"

"You're demanding." he informed her.

She smiled broadly. "I try to be." she said.

* * *

"How ya feeling this morning?" Carmen asked, as she sat on the couch in Flack's living room, waiting for Sam to finish dressing in the bedroom.

"Okay." Sam called back. "My head ache is finally starting to go away.'

Carmen frowned. Something just wasn't right with Sam. Her voice sounded... weird. She glanced up from an old National Enquirer -how Sam read the stuff still remained a mystery- as Sam came breezing into the living room, her hair still damp and dressed in a pair of army green shorts and a white eye-lit cap sleeve blouse that showed off her well toned, well tanned arms. Last night the girl had been all sultry sex goddess and now she looked innocent and urethral. It was amazing how someone could change just like that.

"You okay?" Carmen asked, toss the gossip magazine aside and getting up and following her friend to the door.

"Yeah... why?" Sam slipped into the fugly pair of neon green Croc sandals she was so fond of yet everyone else wanted to burn or bury.

"You're talking weird." Carmen said.

Sam stuck out her tongue to show off the piercing.

"What the fuck!?" Carmen exclaimed, stuck somewhere between disgust and fascination. "Jesus! I didn't think you were serious about the whole tongue piercing thing! Did it hurt?"

"A little. Guy puts a pair of clamps on your tongue and shoves a needle up through the bottom and..."

"Enough! I can't believe you would even do that!"

Sam shrugged and slung a Kate Spade bag that Carmen coveted over her shoulder. "We only live once." she said.

* * *

Neither of the girls had been to Coney Island for as long as they could remember. Carmen vaguely recollected her last time there was in her early teens, and Sam was pretty sure she was at least ten or twelve since the last time she visited the fun house or played some of the games or took a seat on one of the rides. It was busy. The shops and attractions crowded with locals and tourists alike. People roller blading and bike riding or strolling hand in hand or pushing small children in strollers on the board walk. Whimsical music from the games booths hung on the air, mixed in with the roars of laughter and the sound of good clean fun.

Carmen noticed Sam paying extra attention to any child under walking age. Peering into strollers and asking the parents questions and talking baby talk and tickling chins. Carmen had no idea that Sam was that into kids. She never mentioned wanted any of her own. In fact, she had once mentioned that she liked kids, only when they were someone elses and she could send them home at the end of the day. But with the mother hen personality and the infinite patience and gentleness Carmen now witness, she realized Sam would make a hell of a mother one day.

"You're into the baby thing today." Carmen commented, as they bought two strawberry funnel cakes and browsed for a place to sit.

"I want to get married one day." Sam announced. "Be a mom."

"You planning on doing this sometime soon?" Carmen asked around a mouthful of heavenly strawberry.

"I mean someday it's what I want." Sam clarified. "A husband. Kids."

"I bet you in the next year you'll be married." Carmen said. "In fact, I am so confident I will bet you fifty."

"A year?" Sam looked skeptical. "And to who?"

Carmen rolled her eyes. "You know who. You guys are made for each other. He got you a ring and those shoes. That's gotta be true love right there."

"I shouldn't even be thinking about this stuff so soon." Sam admonished herself. "It would freak him out if he knew I was thinking about this stuff."

"Not true." Carmen said. "He told Danny and Speed he's started thinking about you and him and the future. He already sees you having his kids.'

Sam nodded. "He kinda hinted about that yesterday but I didn't read much into it. God, it is way too soon to be thinking about stuff like that!"

"You're in love." Carmen reasoned. "And this is part of it. It's wonderful and scary all at the same time. You just gotta run with it and see where it takes you."

"You ever see yourself re-married?" Sam asked curiously, as they found a clear patch of grass to sit on.

"Before I met Tim? No. But now I think about it a lot. I'd do it better though this time. Have a big thing."

"Not me." Sam declared. "I want something nice and small."

"Like yourself you mean." Carmen teased.

Sam laughed. "Exactly. Something with as little people there as possible."

"How come? I figured you'd go the whole hog."

"Me in a white dress? In a church? Yeah... right. Besides, same end result whether we spend forty bucks or twenty grand."

"True. But fonder memories. I'd like to make it something to celebrate this time around."

"You deserve that." Sam said.

"Yeah, I do." Carmen agreed. "Tim would freak if he knew I had the whole thing planned all ready.'

Sam laughed. "And I thought I was thinking far ahead. Mind you, this morning when I went to take my pill, I discovered I hadn't taken any at all in the last five days."

"Whoa... do you want to get knocked up?"

"It wasn't intentional." Sam said. "I swear."

Carmen glanced at her friend's stomach. "Aren't you a little worried?"

"I'm more worried about what Don would say if I did happen to get pregnant this soon." she admitted.

"I can't really see it being a big issue." Carmen told her. "From the way he was apparently talking last night, he wants them as soon as possible."

"Well for now, I am keeping it to myself about the pills." Sam said. "And keeping my fingers crosses that it doesn't happen. I'd like the ring on my finger first."

"You can't help it if it went the other way though." Carmen pointed out. "Here's a weird question. Ever think of baby names?"

"I'd like Irish names with nice meanings." Sam said. "I never thought of actual names per say. Why? You pregnant and need some ideas?"

Carmen snorted. "Kids are definitely not for me. I can do without all the screaming and dirty diapers. Hell, I'm not even sure how to hold a baby."

"I love kids." Sam declared.

"And you're great with them and you'll make a great mom." Carmen assured her."

"I made all these little boyfriends yesterday." Sam laughed. "One of them even said I had a nice booty."

"What?!"

"He did. He's like eleven. It's frightening what kids know these days. If I ever have a boy, he is going to boarding school."

"Won't help him when you set him loose in the big bad world." Carmen told her.

"True. Look at Don. He went to a catholic school run by nuns and look how he turned out."

"Perverted and sex crazed." Carmen concluded. "So maybe neither boarding or catholic schools are an option."

"He told me he wants at least one kid to be a cop. Carry on the family name. Which is weird considering what a bastard his father is." Sam finished the funnel cake and set the trash aside before toeing off her shoes and stretching her legs out and leaning back on her elbows. "Have you heard of his father?" she asked Carmen, as the latter stretched out on her stomach. "I'd never heard of him until Don told me about him."

"I've heard a little Danny and from people when I was in the academy." Carmen said. "A guy like Flack Sr, whose deemed a hero, everyone seems to know of him."

"Well he may have been a great cop, but he's a shit ass human being." Sam declared.

"I figured as much. I feel for Flack having to live under a man like that."

"He's worried he's going to turn out just like him." Sam confessed.

"Never happen." Carmen said, shaking her head. "People who suffer things like that go one way of two ways. They either become what they know or they fight their whole lives against it. Flack's a fighter. You can see it. He handles the job differently than his old man did. For Flack, it's all in the heart. He lives and breathes it. His old man was all about the glory."

Sam sighed and nodded and sat up right, crossing her legs Indian style and yanking a dandeloin out of the grass, twirling it by the stem between her palms. Carmen thought she looked so young and so innnocent just then. Pixie like even.

"Don ran into his mom couple days back and he told her about me and now his folks want to meet me." Sam said. "He's a little freaked."

"I don't blame him." Carmen said. "It's a big thing. I'll warn you, it'll probably be an experience. Flack's probably worried what gems his old man will regale you with."

"Probably." Sam agreed and then fell silent for a long time.

* * *

"Have you ever heard the name Dean Truby?" she asked suddenly.

"Bits and pieces." Carmen replied. "That place has all kinds of talk floating around. It's hard to believe what's true."

Sam tossed the dandelion aside and tore out a piece of grass instead, twisting it around her finger."Angell filled me in." she told Carmen. "And then I looked it up in the NYPD data base to see if she was bullshitting or not."

"Angell speaks a whole lot of shit all the time." Carmen reminded her friend. "What did she tell you?"

"She told me that this Dean Truby stole cocaine from a raid Don was in charge of and that Truby murdered some innocent kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. And that in the end, Don helped Mac nail Truby."

"Well, despite what Angell thinks, a lot of guys respect Flack for what he did." Carmen said. "It takes a lot of guts to nail a fellow cop."

Sam sighed. "She made it into this mean thing. Then told me it was sweet that I was defending my boyfriend and being so loyal to him. And that he's not what I think he is."

"Angell's just jealous." Carmen told her. "She'd been trying to scope out what kind of relationship you and Flack have and it's petty. The truth is, a lot of cops would have taken the easier and let it slip, but Flack stood up for what he believed."

"Angell is a bitch." Sam declared. "And she hates me."

"She wanted Flack and you got him. End of story for her. "

"I've had a lot of people hate me in my time." Sam sighed. "One more won't hurt."

Carmen laughed. "That's the way to be. If we were good girl, we'd be no fun at all."

Sam nodded in agreement and put the blade of grass between her two thumbs and blew on it until it made a whistling noise. "My brother and I used to get a kick out of that when we were kids." she said with a soft smile of recollection. "Adam used to make me do it over and over again and hold a dandelion under his chin to see if he liked butter. You know, if the underside of your chin turns yellow and all that."

Carmen smiled. She loved hearing happier stories of her and Adam's childhood.

"Those were easier times." Sam sighed and tossed away the blade of grass. "I was thinking. I hope Tim doesn't put that video of us up on You Tube."

"He won't." Carmen assured her. "I managed to get into his phone and erase it while he was sleeping. I didn't want it being passed around the lab. So Mr Speedle is in for a shock when he goes to watch it later and finds it gone." Carmen got up and gathered their garbage and tossed it into a nearby receptacle. She held her hands out to her friend.

Sam grabbed her hands and accepted the help to her feet. "Can you imagine the look on Mac's face if he saw that?" she laughed, as they headed arm in arm back to the boardwalk.

"That would be a whole new form of talk on workplace romances." Carmen chuckled.

Sam tugged her in the direction of a vendor hocking cheap jewellery. There was a display of bracelets at the back of the table and she spied something she liked. Two charm bracelets with deep pink in laid stones and small hearts dangling off of them that read BEST FRIENDS. Sam just couldn't resist and bought both.

"You're tacky." Carmen declared as Sam fastened the bracelet on Carmen's wrist. "First Croc shoes and now this?"

"I am unique." Sam agreed, doing up her own bracelet. "You'd miss me Carmen if I wasn't here anymore."

"That's why I'm glad you are." Carmen told her. "Who else would I be able to talk to without being judged? I'm glad we met, Sam. I've never had a friend I feel so connected to. That I can actually say I love."

"You're the sister I never had." Sam said sincerely. "And the one I always wanted to trade Adam for when we were little. And if anything ever happens to me, you've got that tacky little charm bracelet to remember me by."

Carmen felt a shiver go down her spine at her friend's words. "You know that nothing will ever happen to you. I won't ever let that happen. And despite the fact I said it was tacky, I kinda like it."

They headed back down the boardwalk arm in arm once again.

"I'll even will you my six hundred dollar shoes." Sam commented.

"You're feet are six. I'm a seven and a half. But it's the thought that counts. I'll let you have my Stella McCartney over coat. God I love that thing."

"I have come to the conclusion I spend too much money and I need a second job." Sam sighed.

"Tell me about it. I caught myself eyeing a ball gown the other day of all things."

"You're thinking ahead." Sam said. "Stella was telling me that there's this fancy nine eleven charity gala we have to attend."

"It's for the orphans of nine eleven." Carmen said. "We have to go as representatives of the lab."

"A ball gown?" Sam shuddered at the thought. "Me in a ball gown?"

"Hey, if I have to wear one, so do you." Carmen said.

"Danny was telling me he bets Don's ex will be there. Apparently she attends all the social events worth attending. Have you heard about her?"

"The rich bitch? Flack told me a couple things."

"She phoned the apartment last night." Sam said. "Don doesn't know that I know he was talking to her."

"Keeping secrets all ready?" Carmen frowned.

"I think he's worried I'll beat the shit out of her. Should I be worried? Be threatened by her? I mean, if she's that hot and that rich..."

"For starters," Carmen cut her off. "Rich means jack shit. It doesn't mean you have class or a personality. And trust me, she's not all that in the looks department. And Flack told Danny being with her was like fucking a corpse."

Sam laughed. "We are polar opposites!"

"That's why Flack is in love with you and not her."

"'Cause I'm not like fucking a corpse?"

"Exactly. You're this hot little sex kitten and you have a beautiful soul and that's what he loves most about you."

Sam snorted. "He is so delusional. He loves me. I know he does. I'm just playin'."

"Everyoen knows it." Carmen declared.

"I was thinking the same thing about Tim." Sam said. "That when he looks at you I can tell how he feels about you."

Carmen smiled. "He told me the other night that he loves me. It surprised the hell out of me. Gotta say, thought, I'm glad he said it. I was starting to go crazy for falling so fast and so hard."

"Now you know how I feel." Sam told her.

"I truly think he is the one." Carmen admitted. "It's a hell of a feeling to think that about someone. So I know what you and Flack feel like. Out of the depth doesn't quite come close."

"More like being in The Twilight Zone." Sam said.

"For sure." Carmen agreed.

Sam grew silent, contemplative. "We're lucky, aren't we, Carmen." she stated.

"Luckiest girls in the world, Sam." she said.

* * *

They arrived back at Flack's apartment an hour after that talk. Sam had called on the way there and he was in the midst of folding a mountain of laundry and cooking himself and the two girls dinner. Spaghetti that smelled absolutely heavenly as far as Carmen was concerned.

"Check you out. Flack. " she said, joining him at the table where he was folding Sam's clothes. "No wonder she stays here. She doesn't have to do anything. You cook, you clean, you do her laundry, put out whenever she wants. What more does a girl need? You do windows too?"

He grinned. "Don't push your luck, Devine."

**Once again thanks to all of you reading and reviewing and to all you peeps not reviewing and adding me to your fav.author and story alert. Much appreciated. Although I love getting e-mail and it would be nice to hear from you guys!! **


	36. When it all goes wrong

**Me no own, you no sue. Capish?**

**When it all goes wrong**

"There's room at the top they are telling you still  
But first you must learn to smile as you kill  
If you want to be like the folks on the hill  
A working class hero is something to be  
A working class hero is something to be."  
-Working Class Hero, Marilyn Manson

* * *

The shrill ringing of the telephone tore Flack out of one of the most comfortable, peaceful sleeps he'd enjoyed in as long as he could remember. Carmen had stayed until just a little after nine, when Speed, called into the lab to help the beleaguered trace lab, came to pick her up. It was a relaxing night of sitting around the table, sipping wine -water or pop for Sam, who had declared a boycott of anything that contained alcohol- and sharing tales of their respective years on the job. Flack had the most colorful stories out of the three of them, made even more colorful by his accent and his repetitive use of foul language that had the girls in complete stitches at times. One of the best had to be about an exploding public toilet and the connection to an on-line dating service for inmates, blood smuggled in ketchup packets and a plot to release an inmate by his girfriend staging the murder in said public toilet and making him appear innocent on his previous charges. Carmen was confused halfway through, but listening to Flack tell a story was the treat in itself. In the end, it hadn't mattered how it happened of who did, you enjoyed the details.

They had gone to bed shortly before eleven. Unusual for them. But they hadn't actually gotten asleep until closer to one even though they were both exhausted. One kiss from her and the feel of her body against his was enough to drive him absolutely insane, and he'd made love to her slowly and intently, until they were both utterly spent and covered head to toe in spent and gasping from their release. He couldn't get enough of her. She was like a powerful drug that had sucked him right in and he was hopelessly hooked on. He hoped he'd always feel that way. They were so worn afterwards, they'd almost immediately passed out and into deep, sound sleeps.

And now the phone. He wasn't sure what time it was or how long he'd been asleep for, but the weariness in his body and the fuzzy state of his brain told him he'd obviously hadn't gotten the share of sleep he needed or wanted. His eyes snapped open. The room was in total darknes and he could hear rain pattering against the window and the faint rumbling of thuder. He could feel the warm, supple body tucked tightly into his side and hear her soft, rythmic breathing. Her arm slung loosely over him. He needed to orientate himself. Get his mind cleared up. Shake out the cobwebs. The phone had stopped ringing and was now piercing his ears once again. Samantha stirred beside him.

"Don..." she murmured. "Phone."

"I know. Go back to sleep." he rolled over onto his side and fumbled in the dark for the offending phone on the nightstand.

"Phone." she repeated sleepily.

"I heard you. I'm getting it. Relax, keep your pants on and go back to sleep." He snatched his cell off the nightstand, checked the call display and sighed heavily. So much for a peaceful, full night's slumber. He pressed talk. "Flack." he answered.

Samantha yawned noisily and rolled onto her stomach and lifted her head from the pillow to watch and listen in the dark.

He listened quietly for a minute, offered little more than an exhausted "I'll be there as soon as I can." and hung up. He lay there for several minutes, an arm over his weary eyes.

"Let me guess," she said, pushing hair away from the side of her face. "You have to go.'

He sighed heavily. "I have to go." he conceded. "Multiple DBs on the upper west side."

"Multiple as in how many?" she asked. "Two? Three?"

"Initial report is five." he replied.

"Five? Guess I shouldn't get too comfortable again. Mac will probably call within the half. No later than an hour."

"I think you're safer staying up. I know how hard it is to get you awake." He yawned, rubbed at his eyes and threw the covers off and slipped out of the warm, cozy bed. "All right...gotta go. Gotta save the world one evil bastard at a time."

"Wake me up when you leave, in case I fall asleep." Sam said and buried her face in her pillow.

"You are such a lazy bitch." he teased and kissed the back of her head and journeyed off for a shower.

Within twenty minutes he was showered, shaved and dressed and Sam was sitting up in bed, on the phone with Mac. He was sending Carmen over to pick her up. And he strictly suggested to wear coveralls and boots due to the horrid and unbelievably messy nature of the crime.

"Mac says the place is a mess." Sam commented, pulling on a soft cotton robe over her tank top and shorts as she climbed out of bed.

"And you say our lives are boring." Flack said, clipping on his holster and badge and slipping into his suit jacket. "Okay... I'm off. I'll see you in a little bit. Try not to kill Carmen or get into any road rage problems with your crazy driving."

"Be safe." she said, as he leaned down to kiss her softly.

"Always." he promised.

* * *

Carmen had gratefully handed over the wheel to her best friend. In fact, she was all ready buckled into the passenger seat of the police SUV when Sam came rushing out the front door of the building, her hair still damp and dressed down in a pair of faded jeans and a simple t-shirt, hauling a back pack over her shoulder that was no doubt stuffed with better clothes for later in the day.

"Is this some sort of hint?" Sam asked, dropping the bag in the back seat and climbing behind the wheel.

"You know how much I despise night time driving. Especially night time driving in the rain."

"You're such a diva." Sam sighed and clipped on her seat belt.

"I come bearing gifts." Carmen said, holding a loft a take out cup of tea and a brown paper bag.

"You are a saint." Sam declared and peered into the bag. "Why am I not surprised." she commented with a grin and pulled out the sprinkle donut and Carmen sat the tea in the cup holder between the seats. "So where are we exactly heading?" she asked. "We need to use GPS or is it easy to find?"

Carmen checked a piece of paper on the dash. "11676 Glen Hampton Terrace." she read.

"Upper west side all right. Have you ever seen the places up in that area?"

"Nope." Carmen said and sipped her coffee.

"Mansion does not describe them. Okay, seat belts on, air bags are working..."

"Sam, that is so not funny. You know how nervous I get when you drive."

"How nervous is that?" she asked, and threw the trunk in drive and peeled so fast out of the stop Carmen went flying forward and then back again. "Thank God for seat belts, huh?" Sam laughed and flipped on the lights and sirens.

"You are a crazy, demented bitch." Carmen declared and tightened her grip on the side of her seat. "And I thought Flack was a crazy driver."

"He's more Jeff Gordon and I'm more monster truck challenge, crushing everything in sight. Come on, admit it, you like driving with me. You never know what to expect."

"I expect to get there alive." Carmen said through gritted teeth as Sam seemingly effortlessly weaved in and out of traffic as if the other cars weren't even there, rarely letting the speed drop below sixty.

"Tim loves driving with me." Sam said. "He says he learns swear words he never knew existed."

"Because you are a crazy, demented bitch." Carmen stressed, her heart pounding in her chest, knuckles turning white as her fingers gripped any available surface.

"I promise we will get there alive." Sam said, zooming through a red light and narrowly escaping being hit by a taxi cab that came cruising through the same intersection.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Carmen cursed and closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross over her chest.

"That was so not my fault." Sam pointed out.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, she was taking a sharp left onto Glen Hampton Terrace at nearly forty miles an hour. Half a block down, they could see at least a dozen blue and whites with their lights flashing, three unmarked squads and vans and SUVs that belonged to various members of print and radio and television media. Two dozen residents of the street were out on various well manicured lawns, umbrellas and rain jackets over their bed clothes, attracted by all the commotion.

"Gawkers." Carmen said and shook her head in disdain. "And the press..."

"Vultures." Sam sighed and eased her foot off the gas. "Almost as bad as process servers."

A police barricade had been set up a hundred yards from the home. Beyond the barricade, three other Avalanches were parked half on the sidewalk. The entire team was there, hoods of their rain coats pulled over their heads as they talked to Flack, who had taken his suit jacket off in favor of a NYPD wind breaker and was gesturing at the commotion with his log book, and at the massive Tudor style home with with a walkie talkie.

Sam honked the horn to capture the attention of a young uniform standing next to the road block. He journeyed over to the driver's side window as Sam used the power button to lower it. She showed her badge and her ID.

"Detective Ross and Detective Devine." she said. "We're from the crime lab."

He checked her ID and shone a flashlight in her face. "You look different here." he commented, nodding at the ID.

"It's called a hair cut." Sam told him.

"What about you?" the uniform asked, shining the beam on Carmen. "Badge and ID."

"Excuse me?" Carmen asked.

"I just told you who she was." Sam said in disdain.

"And I'm just suppose to take your word for it?" he asked.

"Would we lie about being CSIs?" Sam exclaimed. "What? We have some sick obsession with the show that we sneak into crime scenes and pretend to be forensic investigators? Let us through."

"Not until I see her badge and ID." the officer remained steadfast.

"This is ridiculous." Carmen mumbled and lifted her ass to get her wallet from her jeans.

"Hey! Fisher!" Flack yelled from the lawn. "What's the fuckin' hold up with my CSIs?"

"Checking ID and badges, sir."

"Sir!" Sam burst out laughing. "He may kick your ass for that later. Sir."

"You moron." Flack said. "Let them through!"

"But..."

"I said let them through now!"

Fisher sighed, reluctantly and went to the end of the barricade, and with the help of another uniform, moved it out of the way so they could pass.

"Thank you!" Sam said cheerfully as she drove past. "Should I run him over?" she asked Carmen.

"Maybe just his foot. What a jack ass."

Sam pulled up alongside one of the other SUVs and put it in park and killed the ignition. She and Carmen got out and dropped the rear door, gathering up their kits, jumpsuits and knee high rubber boots.

"Why is it every time I put these things on I get the urge to go fly fishing?" Carmen asked, as she finihed pulling on her coveralls and set to work on the awkward boots.

"I always get the urge to screw it and go home." Sam laughed, stomping one foot and then the other on the curb to force the boot onto her foot. "'Cause if something is that bad where we need to dress like this?" she zipped up her coveralls. "I really don't want to see it."

* * *

They grabbed their kits and headed towards the house, elbowing their way through the crowds of people to where Flack was waiting for them. One of the reporters apparently didn't like getting jostled around, because he turned and shoved Carmen so hard he nearly knocked her off her feet.

"You got a fucking problem?" Sam asked, shoving the guy back.

"You got one bitch?" he asked, getting in her face.

"No. But you'll have one in a second," she said and flashed her badge. "You gonna let us through or do I have to lock you up for obstruction. Say the word, Cronkite and I'll have you down on the ground before you know what hit you."

"Obstrucion?! That's a trump charge. Get out of my face. You can't do that."

"She can't but I can." Flack said, putting his hand on the guy's chest and pushing him back a couple feet. "And I will if you don't get the fuck outta the way. You okay, Devine?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Good thing I had Tyson here with me."

He held up the tape so they could pass under it. "Check this place out." he said, nodding towards the home as he walked in between the two women. "Homes around here go for no less than half a mill. Neighbours were telling me that this place was just picked up on the market a couple of months ago for a cool three mill."

"Who bought it?" Sam asked. "Someone famous? Are we walking into an episode of Cribs?"

"You watch way too much t.v." Flack told her. "Bloomfield family bought it."

Sam looked up at him.

"Yeah, those Bloomfields." he concurred.

"Who?" Carmen asked. She wasn't up on the lifestyles of the disgustingly rich and pathetically famous.

"Richest family in all of New York." Flack told her. "Royalty almost. The husband, Jeffrey Bloomfield, is the top ad exec and CEO of Bloomfield-Kincaide advertising down on Wall Street. Mom, Darlene, is a former prima ballerina and debutante. But here's where things gets interesting. The DBs? Not the Bloomfields."

"No?" Sam asked.

"No. The Bloomfields are in Switzerland. Have been for a few months now. The vics are apparently Mrs Bloomfield's mother and father, sister and brother in law, and their two kids. I guess they've been taking care of the house or whatever while the others are on vacation." he looked down at his log book. "It was like writing a novel. Mom and dad are Lisa and Frank Collier. Their kids are Nicholas, 11 and Tessa, 6. Grandma and grandpa are Charles and Anne Marshall."

"Who called it in?" Carmen asked.

"The grandmother. When I got here, she still had the phone in her hand. Guess the attacker finished the job while she was making the call. How or why or what is for you guys to figure out."

"We've got quite a mess in there." Mac told everyone as they gathered around. "Six DBs. I wanted to wait for everyone to get here before going in. It's a massive crime scene. How big is the house, Flack?"

He glanced down at his notes. "Nearly twelve thousand square feet."

Danny whistled. "Bigger than a fucking Wal-Mart."

"Eight bedrooms, just as many baths." Flack said. "Private screening room, indoor and outdoor pools and tennis courts, nearly twenty rooms in all. That's not counting the basement. Wine cellar, pantry, laundry, all that crap."

"And where are the vics?" Stella asked.

"The mother and father are in the master bedroom." Flack told her. "Grandma's in the kitchen, grandpa is in the family room, Nicholas is in the games room and Tessa is in the basement."

"How bad is it?" Hawkes asked. "Blood and gore wise?"

"On a scale of one to ten?" Flack shrugged. "I'd give it a ninety five. The place is completely trashed from top to bottom, there's blood and brain matter all over the place, killer or killers wrote on the walls in blood. Swastikas, death to pigs, anarchy symbols. All the pleasant stuff. Let's put it this way. Ever see the Saw movies? Times those by a hundred and you almost come close."

"Glad we brought the suits and boots." Carmen said.

"You guys are going to need them." Flack assured her.

"Let's get to work." Mac said. "Danny and Carmen will take the mother and father. Speed, you take the son. Stella and I will take the grandmother, Hawkes, you the grandfather. Samantha will take the daughter, in the basement. Flack, when you're finished getting all your statements, I want you or one of your guys down there to help. It's dark and spooky down there and I don't want her down there too long alone. Everybody glove up. Triple glove. Like Flack said, the place is trashed and there's a lot of glass and a lot of blood. Work slowly and thoroughly. Don't miss a thing. Gerrard will be here in an hour to check on things."

Everybody groaned audibly and rolled their eyes. A couple even swore out loud.

"What does he want?" Stella asked.

"Apparently, the owner of this house is very good friends with the mayor." Mac said.

"So?" Danny asked. "Who cares?"

"Gerrard. And you know how he loves nothing more that to shit all over our lab." Mac replied. "Let's get to work. We've got a very long day ahead of us."

"Not the way you thought your night would end, huh Brooklyn?" Danny asked as he walked beside Sam as they headed to the front door of the mansion.

"No kidding. And I was having the best sleep of my life."

"Sleep. Ya, right." Danny grinned.

"That isn't all there is to life, Daniel." Sam said. "Regardless of what Don tells you. Oh well. What would a night in New York City be without a little excitement?"

"Or a little mass murder." Danny said.

The team split up. Each into their own piece of hell.

* * *

There was no major source of light in the basement. Which, in reality, was more best described as a root cellar. Cold and dark and damp with bare concrete floors and brick walls ad the distinct odour of must. And blood. There was no mistaking the smell of blood. Mac had hit the nail on the head. The basement was spooky. Incredibly spooky.

The only light was a bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling that Sam had to stand on her tip toes to turn on. She was surprised that for a house that was so immaculate and ritzy, it didn't have a finished basement. Even the run down tenement townhouse she and Adam had spent the majority of their early lives in had a finished basement. This place had little more than a wall to wall, ceiling to floor pantry for storing jarred preserves.

And one very dead body. Near the farthest wall lay six year old Tessa in a thin pink and yellow stripped night shirt and bare feet. On her back, eyes still open in a massive pool of blood. Sam sighed heavily, sat her kit on the ground and snapped it open. She'd brought a large lantern sized flashlight with her and she turned it on and set it a couple of feet away. Took out her camera and started with the overalls. Always the first step of an investigation. Photographing the body and the scene around it. She started with the scene first, laying out evidence markers along a trail of gravitational blood drops, drag marks and a medium velocity blood spatter on the wall. There was a small window at the top of the wall. Sam got out her handheld ALS light and stood on her tip toes to look at the ledge. Almost an inch of dust. In which were a set of pristine finger prints.

She smirked at the sight and doubled back to her kit and got some finger print tape to carefully lift the prints with. She sealed it and dropped it into her kit and snapped some pictures of the window.

Maybe I won't be down here as long as I thought, she mused wistfully in her head and headed for the body. She could hear foot steps above her as the others worked on the main floor. Muffled voices. She snapped on a pair of fresh gloves and crouched by the body.

"I'm sorry." she whispered to the little girl. "But I have to do this. I'm sorry."

Little kids always got to her. She couldn't help it. So innocent and pure. She set to work, conducting an initial exam of the wounds, taking more photos, checking the liver temperature to estimate time of death, and looking for signs of trace under the fingernails and on the clothing and even in the hair. Unfortunately there were obvious signs of sexual assault and a wave of nausea passed through Sam as she reached out and pulled the little girl's might gown down to give her some modesty. She used her walkie talkie to call up to Mac and ask permission to call the MEs office. She explained her findings and that she wanted the body out to look at the scene better. Mac said he'd put the call through.

"You okay down there?" he asked.

"I think so. It's creepy down here. I need some more light. A few flashlights would be nice. Big ones."

"Flack will be down in a couple minutes." Mac assured her. "I'll get him to bring some light."

"Okay... thanks. I'll be fine... for now."

She turned down the volume on the walkie talkie and sat back on her heels and stared at the little girl. Resisted the urge to close Tessa's eyes. It was a strict no no to alter the body in anyway. It was moved enough during the initial investigation. It would be up to Sid or whoever conducted the autopsy to close the eyes prior to, or shortly following the procedure. But it was unnerving to Samantha. It always was when a vic died with their eyes open. Like they were watching her. She turned away and grabbed her flashlight and decided to look around the rest of the basement while waiting for Flack.

It was damp and musty. The smell turned her stomach and she attempted to breath through her mouth. There was a loud, distinct scratching noise behind her. Like fingernails scraping on wood or another solid surface.

If that body gets up and moves, she thought, slowly turning around. I am so out of here.

* * *

Tessa was still in the same spot. Still. Unmoving. The noise was coming from what she assumed was a wine cellar. She contemplated calling upstairs for some help, but didn't want to seem foolish if it turned out there was nothing there and it was just her overactive imagination. However, to be on the safe side, she unzipped her jumpsuit and reached inside and slipped her gun from its holster. Flicking off the safety and loading the chamber. She held the gun in her right and the flashlight in her left as she walked quietly, approaching the door cautiously. Used her left hand to reach for the door handle.

The door suddenly flew open. The dead bolt caught her above the right eye, the force knocking her off of her feet and sending the flashlight and her gun tumbling to the ground. She was startled. Stunned from the blow. She could feel blood trickling in her eye and down her face from a wound to her forehead. She barely saw the shadowy figure standing above her. Clad all in black. Towering and menacing. The moonlight from the window catching the slice of the blade of a large knife tucked in the waist band.

Large black gloved hands reached for her throat and she skittered backwards, feeling blindly for the gun she knew was mere inches away from her right hand. One strong hand grabbed her by the hair, the other circled her throat, lifting her clear off of her feet and pinning her to the wall. The hand at her throat was like a steel vise, the fingers digging into her flesh, cutting off her airway. She brought up her knee, catching the attacker in the groin and sending him to his knees, moaning and writhing in pain on the ground in front of her. Gasping and sputtering as she tried to get air, she got onto her hands and knees and crawled towards her gun.

"Fucking bitch!" a deep, angry voice growled. He grabbed her around the waist and flipped her roughly onto her back, knocking the wind out of her. One hand went straight to her throat, the other went for the zipper on her jumpsuit.

"Get off of me!" she managed through the grip on her throat.

"Who are you?" the attacker asked.

"I'm just... a ... a crime scene investigator."

"A cop?"

"Yeah... but..."

"What kind of cop?"

"A CSI. Detective. You don't want to do this... there's like twenty people upstairs. They'll wonder why they haven't heard from me and come down here. Just let me go."

"I can't do that."

"Yes... you can." she pleaded.

"You married?" he asked. "Got kids?"

"No."

"Then no one will miss you, will they?'

"Please..." she begged. "Let me go. Don't do this. Please."

"I'll make you beg ever harder near the end. Trust me."

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"What does every man want?" he retorted.

"You do not want to do this. Trust me. You do this and you will not get out of here alive."

He shrugged. "That'll be two of us." he said.

She screamed. Only to have the attacker abandon undoing her clothing in favor of clamping a hand over her mouth.

* * *

Mac looked up from the trace evidence he was collecting. Lips pursed, eyes narrowed, looking around the room.

Stella, who'd been snapping photos, noticed him stop working and saw the concerned, agitated look on his face.

"Mac?" she asked, alarmed.

"Did you hear that?" he asked her.

"Hear what?"

"Someone screaming. Did you hear it?"

"No. It was probably just the wind. It's nasty outside."

Mac shook his head. "It wasn't the wind. I distinctly heard someone screaming."

* * *

In the family room, Dr. Sheldon Hawkes had heard something too. So had Danny, who was just descending the back stairs. He'd left Carmen up in the master bedroom while he ran out to grab more foot plates.

Hawkes halted in the middle of examining the body and looked up at Danny.

"You guys hear that?" Speed asked, suddenly appearing at the end of the hall.

"Depends on what you heard." Danny replied.

"Sounded like someone screaming." Speed said.

"That's what I thought I heard." Danny agreed. "Doc?"

"I heard it too." Hawkes nodded.

"One scream." Speed said. "Real short. Outside maybe?"

"I'll go find Flack." Danny announced. "I was on my way out anyway. See if he heard anything."

* * *

"That wasn't very smart!" the attacker told Samantha. "You really want to speed up the process of your own death?"

She shook her head.

"I'll tell you what. I'll make it as painless as possible. You're too pretty to let suffer slowly and agonizingly."

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a liguid filled syringe. "Don't worry, sweetheart..." he cooed. "You'll be out in no time... you won't feel a thing..."

Uncapping the syringe with his teeth, he jabbed the needle into the left side of her neck.

What he didn't know was that she had gotten a hold of her gun. She closed her eyes and prayed and fired.

**Thanks to all of you still enjoying and reading and reviewing! You guys are the reason I enjoy this soooo much. And thanks to all you lurkers adding me to your fav. author and alerts. Much appreciated. Please review? I love getting mail!! And now that it's fixed, I can send mail back!!**


	37. Mistakes are made, prices are paid

**Mistakes are made, prices are paid**

"Just as every cop is a criminal  
and all the sinners saints  
as hard as nails  
just call me Lucifer  
'cause I'm the need of some restraint."  
-Sympathy for the Devil, Guns n Roses

* * *

"Whoa..." Stella exclaimed and jumped back as if she'd felt an electric current beneath her feet. The floor shook beneath her. "Did you hear that, Mac? That sounded like a gunshot."

Before Mac could respond, a second shot rang out and they looked at each other from across the kitchen, eyes wide in alarm.

"Mac, that's in the basement." Stella said and ran from the room.

Mac was right behind her, snapping off his gloves and tossing them aside, unholstering his weapon as he crossed the length of the house quickly.

Everyone in the house and outside in the close proximity had heard the shots. Carmen came rushing down the stairs two at a time. Hawkes and Speed came flying out of their respective rooms and Danny and Flack and three uniforms came bursting through the front door. All had their guns drawn.

"What the hell was that?" Carmen took the last two steps at a flying leap. "That was not thunder..."

"10-13... 10-13!" Flack was shouting into his walkie talkier. "We have shots fired... 11676 Glen Hampton Terrace...I repeat, shots fired...officer involved...requesting EMS!"

The basement door was locked. It had locked itself when it had closed behind Samantha when she'd gone downstairs to process. One of the uniforms kicked it clear off its hinges, and as the collective group began rushing down the stairs, a figure clad in black was beginning to limp painfully up them. When he saw the police, he turned and ran into the blackness of the cold, damp basement.

"He's running!" Danny yelled and vaulted over the banister and hit the floor running. "Gotta get 'em!"

Speed and Flack took off after him and through the musty basement, followed close behind by the uniforms. They chased Danny and the perp into total darkness, feeling their way along brick walls with their hands, praying to God they weren't running into a dead end or straight into even more trouble. They heard racing foot steps and then the slamming open of a door and soon shards of light were leading them up a flight of stairs and out into the expansive backyard that led to a sprawling ravine.

"Get 'em, Flack!" Danny yelled when the taller, stronger man easily passed him. "Keep goin'! You're right behind him! Keep goin'!"

"NYPD!" one of the uniforms was bellowing, only adding to the chaos of the moment. "Stop or we'll shoot!"

"He's goin' for the ravine, Flack!" Speed yelled. "He gets in there and we'll never find him!"

A uniform fired their weapon, catching the perp in the back of the left leg and bringing him down onto the rain soaked grass, which gave Flack the chance to catch up the remaining fifty feet. The perp was struggling to get to his feet, clutching his leg and a wound in his right side that was oozing bright red blood.

"Don't fucking move!" Flack panted, using a knee in the small of the back to force the perp face first into the muddy grass. Then knelt, all two hundred plus pounds of him, on the man's back.

"Fucking pig!" the perp roared.

"I'd shut up if I were you." Flack said, breathless, trying to bring the perp's hands behind his back and meeting incredible resistance. The guy was stronger than he looked. Flack had a good five inches on him and at least fifty pounds, but the suspect was impressively, frighteningly strong.

Probably hopped up on something, Flack thought. Lots of drugs out there that could give people almost super human strength when on a high.

"Don't give me a hard time, buddy," Flack growled, stuck somewhere between needing to do the right thing for the job and wanting to do the right thing for his girlfriend by laying a beating on the perp that neither would ever forget. Mac and his goddamn kept things separate bullshit. Personal on one side, private on the other. It was damn hard not to cross the invisible line in the middle. What scared him most was that one day, he wouldn't be able to kept it separate anymore.

Speed and Danny had finally caught up. Both breathless. Speed on the phone getting the low down on Sam's condition from Carmen and Hawkes. Thank God for Hawkes. It was nice having a doctor on hand.

"You keep giving me a hard time and I'll either break your arms or shoot you in the fucking head." Flack warned the perp, who was making him work for the arrest.

"Got him?" Danny huffed and puffed, bent over at the waist, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah...do me a favor and hand me your cuffs and then call it in..."

Danny nodded, reached under the back of his jacket for the handcuffs he kept stored at the back of his pants and handed them to Flack. Then took the homicide detective's walkie talkie to radio that the suspect was in custody.

* * *

The man on the ground beneath Flack's heavy weight was screaming at the top of his lungs. An obscentity laced tirade that included everything from bastard to pig and asshole to motherfucker. Sometimes all of them in one sentence. Flack had heard it all and been called it all and then some.

"Quit fucking fighting me!" Flack ordered and increased the pressure on the perp's arm. "One wrong move buddy and I'll break your arms."

"And shut the hell up while you're at it." Danny said.

Flack got to his feet, grabbed the perp by the handcuffs with one hand and put his other arm around the man's throat. "Get up!" he demanded.

"Fuck you, pig!" the perp spat at him.

"I said get up!" Flack yelled and yanked the man to his feet roughly. Read him the Miranda rights like a well memorized prayer.

"You all right?" Danny asked his best friend.

"Yeah...fine. I wasn't expecting to have to run. I haven't recuperated from all the exercise I got earlier tonight.'

Danny grinned.

Speed hung up the phone and joined them.

"Sam okay?" Flack asked.

Speed shook his head.

Flack's heart pounded furiously in his chest. His stomach twisted agonizingly.

Danny looked at Speed in disbelief, than looked at his best friend and saw the anguish all over his face, and then looked back at Speed. "What?" he asked incredulously.

"Mac says they're taken her to Trinity Memorial." Speed told them. "Guy nearly crushed her larynx and she took a nasty hit to the head. On top of that, he stabbed her in the neck with a syringe. Whatever was in it, caused her to go into convulsions and slip into unconsciousness. Hawkes hasn't been able to bring her around."

"She got a pulse? She breathin'?" Danny asked quickly.

"Said her pulse is fast, breathing is shallow. Not showing any response to verbal stimuli."

Flack shook his head and blinked back tears, fighting his powerful, gut wrenching emotions of immense sorrow and intense rage. Unconsciously tightening his grip on the perp's throat with each piece of bad news Speed delivered.

Danny decided the best thing to do was to take the reins. Judging by the look on Flack's face, there was about to be massive bloodshed right there on the edge of the back lawn. He tugged at the perp's arm, getting Flack to release his grip as Danny yanked the injured and bleeding perp towards him.

"You need to get in there." Speed said to Flack. "EMS is almost ready to transport. Carmen is going with you."

Flack simply nodded and walked quickly back to the house.

"Let's go." Danny hissed, wanting nothing more than five minutes alone with the guy, but struggling hard to keep focused on the job.

"Hold up." Speed said and laid a hand on the perp's chest and used his other hand to yank the black mask off of the man's face.

Underneath the wool cap was a man in his early twenties with shoulder length greasy blond hair and wild eyes. Both from being doped up and the fact he had been shot in the leg and side. Both appeared to be just grazes, but enough to slow him down.

"Big man, huh? Hiding your face like that? Picking on women. You actually thought you'd get away with it? Attempted murder and rape of a female cop at a crime scene? You didn't think we'd catch you?"

"I've been fucking shot!" the perp wailed.

"Too bad she didn't kill ya." Danny hissed in his ear. "How does it feel tough guy? To get your ass kicked by a girl?"

"She fucking shot me! That fucking bitch!"

"Shut up." Speed said. "Just shut up. Tell me what was in the syringe."

The perp shook his head.

"I need to know what you had in there so the doctors can treat her properly. What was in it?"

The perp's lips remained tightly sealed.

"Maybe you didn't hear me." Speed got right in the guy's face. "Tell me what was in it."

"Do your damn job and find out for yourself. And who cares in the long run? All it would be is one pig off the street."

Speed smirked, made as if to turn away, then before either the perp or Danny could react, landing a hard right to the smirking face of the man in custody. Hard enough for Danny to loose his grip on the man's jacket and the perp to land flat on his ass. Speed leaned over the man now nursing a busted nose to go along with his gunshot wounds and yanked him to his feet by the front of his shirt.

"Let me make this very, very simple." Speed said. "You either tell me what was in that syringe or I lay a beating on you and it goes down that you resisted arrested."

"Fuck you!" the perp shouted.

"That's the wrong answer!" Speed bellowed and yanked the guy even closer, one hand on the front of his shirt and the other on his throat. "Tell me what was in it!"

"Easy, Speed." Danny grabbed a hold of his friend's arm, pulling him away from the suspect. Stopping him from doing anything stupid that would warrant a visit from IAB. Even if the perp did deserve a massive ass kicking. "Take it easy. He's goin' to the ER to get checked out and then he's off to jail where he belongs. We caught him. Let one of the uni's take him to get looked at by a doc and then down to central booking. Then we're gonna go back inside and do our jobs. All right?"

Speed took a heavy breath and let it out slowly and turned away, a hand to his forehead, pacing a patch of grass relentlessly. "Get him out of my face." he told Danny. "Just get him out of here."

"He's going." Danny assured him, handing the perp off to one of the uniforms. "Get this piece of shit outta here." he told the young officer. "Put him in a squad, take him to whatever hospital is closest and then on to central booking."

"You got it." the officer said and none to gently grabbed a hold of the perp and shoved him angrily in the direction of the house.

"You all right?" Danny asked Speed.

"Fine. Just... it could have easily been Carmen, Danny."

Danny sighed. "I know. Could have easily been any of us for that matter."

"What was Mac thinking? Sending a woman down there alone?" Speed shook his head in disbelief.

"Women get sent into crime scenes alone all the time." Danny reminded him.

"Maybe that needs to change. Maybe they shouldn't be going into scenes alone so shit like this doesn't happen. Have someone there to back them up if need be. You saw the hard time Flack was having with him. How would Sam or Carmen defend themselves against that? Impossible. They wouldn't stand a chance."

"You wouldn't stand a chance if they heard you talk like that. They hear ya talk like that and they're ganging up to kick your ass."

Speed shook his head. "This shouldn't have happened." he said.

"You're right." Danny agreed. "But it did. And now it's up to us to find out why."

* * *

Adam rushed through the entrance doors of Trinity Memorials ER, his curls wild and out of control from jumping out of bed and having no opportunity to tame them, his eyes wide in both shock and concern. It was close to six in the morning, three hours before the scheduled start of that day's shift, when he hurried to the reception desk and demanded to know where his sister was. He wasn't normally one to get riled up or confrontational about anything, but when the nurse at the window ignored him at first and then told him to wait until she finished a non work related conversation with a colleague, he just snapped. He leaned through the window and hit the button that allowed entrance into the back treatment areas and stepped right inside.

"Sir! You can't do that!" the nurse was on her feet, chasing him in an instant. "Sir! You can't come back here! If you don't leave now I'll have to call security!"

"So call them!" he yelled over his shoulder and kept going.

He found Carmen and Flack outside of one of the treatment rooms. Inside the curtains were drawn around the bed, but Adam could see the shadows, and hear the voices, of various medical personnel and the beeping of an EKG monitor. In the hallway, Carmen was pacing, her hands on her hips, while Flack sat in a chair, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

It's worse than I thought, Adam's brain immediately went into panic mode seeing the two of them in such states.

"Where's Sammie?" he nearly shouted. "Is she okay?"

Flack removed face from his hands and stood up, while Carmen stopped her pacing in favor of hugging the lab tech.

"Hawkes is in with her while the doctors check her out." Carmen said.

"What the hell happened?" Adam asked. "Mac called me and said something about her being attacked at the crime scene."

"We went to a scene with multiple DBs on the upper west side." Carmen explained calmly. "Mac split the team up to cover all the bases and Sam went into the basement. The perp was hiding in the wine cellar. She heard a noise and went to check it out and that's when he attacked her. He tried to strangle her and stabbed her in the neck a syringe."

Adam shook his head, his face perplexed. "A what? Who? She was in the basement alone? Why was she alone?"

"Everyone else was processing their own room." Carmen told him. Mac sent her into the basement."

"Why?"

"He's the boss, Adam. I don't know why he makes the decisions he does. And I don't question them either.'

"And where were you?" Adam asked Flack. His tone accusing.

"I was doing my job. I wasn't even in the house when it happened."

"Isn't that just rich." Adam snorted. "So much for your thing with Sarge. Protecting her and all that crap."

"This is in no way Flack's fault." Carmen was quick to defend the detective. We were at a scene. Doing our jobs. No one could have known this would happen. He doesn't get paid to babysit. He gets paid to..."

"Serve and protect and all that crap." Adam cut her off. "I know. Wasn't there to serve and protect my sister. Or maybe serving her is all he cares about."

Carmen had to step between Adam and Flack.

"Better shut your mouth, Ross." Flack warned.

"Isn't it your job to secure the scene?" Adam asked. "What happened there? Wasn't too secure, was it?"

"Adam..." Carmen tried to remain calm. "You're just upset. You need to calm down. Flack didn't do anything wrong. He and his guys checked the house top to bottom. No one thought of checking the wine cellar."

Adam was glaring at Flack as he shook his head. "If anything happens to my sister..."

"What?" Flack asked. "What are you going to do? Beat me up?"

"Anything happens to her, it's your fault, Flack. It'll be on your head."

"Get out of my face, Ross." Flack snorted and waved the lab tech away. "Go back to the lab and do your lab rat shit."

"Guys, this is not the time or place for this!" Carmen scolded them. "Our main concern right now should be Sam. Adam, you're worried about your sister and you love her and want her safe. I understand that. You're upset and rightfully so. On the other hand, Don loves your sister too and he's worried about her and doesn't want anything happening to her either. This was in no way anyone's fault. Arguing and tossing insults back and forth is not going to solve a damn thing. So both of you accept where the other is coming from and concentrate on what matters most. Sam. Okay?"

Adam was fighting back tears. "My sister means everything to me." he said.

"I know." Flack said. "And she's my entire world. So we're both feeling the same way, aren't we. I'm sorry I snapped, Adam. I'm just worried about her.'

"I know. Me, too. I get little defensive when it comes to Sammie. I can't help it. All those times she was there for me. Is everyone still at the scene?"

"It's a hell of scene to process." Carmen told him. "Its huge. They won't be getting done anytime soon."

"What about the perp?" Adam asked. "Think he's the killer, too?"

"Only time will tell." Carmen sighed. "He's on his way down to central booking. Mac will talk to him later. All we know for sure is that all the vics show puncture wounds to the neck, in the exact place he got Sam. Tox will tell us more.'

"Have the doctors said anything?" the lab tech asked.

"All they've told us is that she's stable and breathing on her own as of right now."

Adam frowned. "As of right now? What...?"

Hawkes slipped out of the room, snapping off latex gloves and tossing them in a nearby trash can.

"How is she?" Adam asked frantically.

"She's still unconscious and has a partially collapsed trachea." Hawkes told them. "Her blood pressure and her heart rate have stabilized. They're going to admit her for a few days to keep an eye on her. Once they know for sure what was in that needle, they'll be able to treat her a lot easier. My guess is that it was a heavy sedative or a pain killer. It hit her quick and she's going to be out for a while. Now she had another seizure on top of the two she had at the scene. Does she have any history of seizures with certain meds?"

"What?" Adam couldn't comprehend it all. "Seizures? She's never had one a day in her life."

"They've run a cat-scan and there doesn't appear to be any damage done to the brain." Hawkes said. "Once she comes to, we'll know for sure."

"How long could that be?" Carmen asked.

"Few days." Hawkes replied. "A week. Could be in the next five minutes. They don't know for sure. Now she's hooked up to an IV and anti-seizure meds and and EKG and a bit of oxygen to be on the safe side. She's on a catheter and they've stitched up the wound above her eye."

A doctor in surgical scrubs stepped out of the room and pulled Hawkes aside.

"Thank you, Doctor." Hawkes said and rejoined the others. "They're sending her up to the step down unit now. Give them a few minutes and you all can go up. Mac wants me back at the scene to finish processing. Call me if anything changes. Bad or good."

Flack nodded. "Thanks, Hawkes."

"No problem. Take care guys."

The three watched as the ME turned CSI hurried off down the hall and disappeared around a corner.

Carmen turned to face the two men, noticing how worried they were. She linked her one arm through Adam's and the other through Flack's. "Let's go and get some coffee." she suggested. "We all could use it. Come on." she tugged at their arms. "You heard what Hawkes said. A few minutes. Let's give them that."

"Maybe I should call my mom and Sarge." Adam said.

"Why don't you wait to see how good or bad things are?" Carmen suggested. "Okay?"

He sighed reluctantly. "Okay."

"For now, let's just be here for Sam." Carmen said. "And for each other."

* * *

The step down unit was located on the south side of the fourth floor. Sam was put in a generously sized private room that overlooked a back courtyard. When Carmen returned from getting some fresh air and returning a phone call, Flack was in a chair outside of the room, his legs stretched out, hands folded on his stomach and his closed, head leaning back against the wall.

"You asleep?" Carmen asked, sitting down beside him.

"Just thinking." he replied.

"That was Mac." she said. "The syringe contained a mixture of Demerol and Oxycontin. All of the vics tested positive for it. Based on the levels in the vics, they were likely unconscious or dead when he massacred them."

"He talking?" Flack asked.

"Passed out coming down of his high."

Flack snorted. "Go figure."

"What are you doing out here?" Carmen asked.

"Thought I'd give Adam some time."

"Sam still out?"

"What would have changed in ten minutes?" Flack asked.

"You never know." Carmen replied. "So what are you thinking about?'

He shrugged. "Just stuff."

"As in..."

"How if Sam gets out of this all right I want to marry her and have kids with her."

Carmen sipped her now lukewarm coffee. "This conversation is contagious. Me and her talked about the same thing at Coney Island."

Flack opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Carmen. "Yeah? And what did she say?"

"Just that one day she'd like a husband, a family. Are you serious about this, Flack?"

He nodded.

"'Cause you have to want to do it for the right reasons. Not because she could have died and..."

"I want to do it because I love her and when I look in her eyes , I see my unborn children. Good enough reason?"

Carmen smiled. "That's the best reason I've ever heard. And contrary to what you're thinking , this was not your fault."

"I secured the scene." he sighed. "Me and my guys. I had no idea there was anyone in the house."

"Who checked the basement?" Carmen asked.

"One of the uniforms. He told me he checked every square inch of it. I believed him. Shoulda checked it myself."

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda. None of that matters. It happened and now we found out why and how. She's going to be okay, Don. You know that. She's a tough little shit. Once those drugs wear off, she'll be the same old Sam. You'll see."

Flack nodded. "What if she says no when I ask her? To marry me. She's always going on about things happening too soon and all that."

"There's no time limit on falling in love and wanting to be with someone." Carmen told him. "If it feels right to you, which I know it does, that's all that matters. And is she says no, which I highly doubt, you just keep asking until she says yes."

Flack grinned. However that grin was short lived when he spotted Gerrard at the end of the hall talking to a nurse. The nurse pointed in Flack and Carmen's direction and Gerrard, a scowl on his face, stormed towards them.

"Shit!" Flack cursed. "Fuck!"

"What...?" Carmen asked.

"Detective Flack!" Gerrard bellowed, despite the fact it was early morning hours and there was ill and dying patients all around him.

"Wonderful." Carmen murmured as she and Flack stood up.

"What the hell happened at the scene, Flack?" Gerrard fumed. "I get a call saying a perp hiding in the house attacked and nearly killed a CSI? Tried to strangle her and stabbed her with a needle full of narcotics? How the hell did this happen? Did you secure the scene?"

"Of course I did. Me and my guys checked every last inch."

"Not good enough apparently or this wouldn't have happened. You realize IAB will be all over you for this? Never mind how this is going to look in the press?"

Carmen had to speak up. "This wasn't Flack's fault, sir. He..."

Gerrard turned his cold gaze on her. "Was I talking to you, Detective..."

"Devine. Carmen Devine.'

"This is between me and Detective Flack." Gerrard informed her.

"I just don't think it's fair that you're blaming him when..."

Flack laid a hand on her shoulder to quiet her down.

"And of all CSIs to get attacked at the scene." Gerrard shook his head. "You're girlfriend. I told you she was nothing but trouble. And speaking of crime scenes, I suggest you get back to yours."

"I handed the case to Angell." Flack argued.

"And I am handing it back to you." Gerrard told him. "So get back there."

"But, sir, I..."

"Now, Flack. Or do you want a nice suspension without pay for insubordination? Or would you like to choose between your badge and the girl?"

Carmen knew that Flack would choose Sam over the badge any day. But she also knew he needed his job and that he was damn good at it. If not one of the best. "You should go, Flack." she said. "Adam and I will be here. She's in good hands. I'll call you if there's any change."

Flack sighed heavily. "If she wakes up, tell her..."

"I'll tell her regardless." Carmen assured him and gave him a hug. "She's being well taken care of and she'll be fine. I promise I'll call. Okay?"

"Okay." he agreed and stalked off down the hall towards the elevators.

Gerrard sensed Carmen staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"Are you always such an ignorant, cold hearted bastard or is this new for you?" she asked furiously.

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't even bother to find out how she is! You just came here like John Wayne to drag Flack back to work. The least you could have done is ask him how she was! Showed some kind of support and compassion!"

Gerrard fumed. "I don't know who you think you're talking to, Miss Devine..."

"No one important, believe me. And it's Detective Devine to you." she said and stormed away and into Sam's room.

* * *

At nine in the morning, Speed and Danny were finally loading their equipment into thier SUV in the misty rain.

"Any news on Sam?" Danny asked, his hood to his rain jacket pulled low onto his forehead.

"Carmen just called. The anti-seizure meds are working and now that they know for sure what drugs are in her, they can treat the OD properly. They're concerned mostly about kidney and liver failure. Next few days they'll keep a close eye on that."

"She still unconsious?" Danny asked.

Speed nodded. "She's showing responses to verbal stimuli so that's a good thing. Carmen and Adam get her to squeeze their hands and all that. So there doesn't seem to be an issue as far as her brain goes."

"Thank God." Danny turned a grateful gaze to the sky above. "Can you believe this even happened?" he asked Speed.

"I've seen it before. Perps hiding out at scenes that you think are secure. I know Flack's beating himself up over it, but honestly, it wasn't his fault. He followed everything to the letter. It's just an unfortunate incident. I can't believe that asshole Gerrard made him come back from the hospital."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Danny sighed. "Gerrard's always had a pickle up his ass when it comes to Flack. How he's not half the cop or man his father was and all that bullshit."

"From what I heard," Speed said. "Flack should be thankful he isn't like his father."

Flack came out of the front door of the house, cell phone pressed to his ear, looking weary and worried. He joined them at the truck just as he hung up his phone.

"Wanna hear some good news?" Flack asked. "Something to brighten shit up a little?"

"Sure." Danny said.

"That was Mac. He just got a call from Phoenix. Zack's dead."

"He's what?" Danny asked in disbelief.

"Dead. As in another prisoner found out he was a cop and said prisoner has an issue with cops and decided to knife him six times in the shower with some homemade shank. Wait, it gets better. Before the guy knifed him, he showed Zack a little lovin' before hand. And none to gently either."

"Talk about devine retribution." Speed said. "So there goes his lawsuit and any future trial."

"That's a definite bright spot." Danny said. "You hear anymore on Sam?" he asked Flack.

"Carmen called and said there was no real change good or bad." Flack replied "It's gonna take some time. Hawkes figured maybe a week at the least."

"Good thing is that everything sounds positive so far." Speed said. "You on your way to Trinity now?"

"Are you kidding? Gerrard probably has people just sitting there waiting for me to get there. I'm gonna get a hold of next of kin and talk to our perp when he finally comes to. And then and only then, will I be off and able to see my girlfriend in the hospital. See you guys later."

"Later, Flack." Speed said.

"Try not to worry too much, Flack." Danny called to him before the detective could get into his squad.

"That's easier said then done." he called back.

**THANKS TO ALL OF YOU READING AND REVIEWING AND ENJOYING. HOPEFULLY YOU ARE ALL GETTING YOUR REVIEW RESPONSES BACK!! I APPRECIATE THE SUPPORT AND HOPE ALL OF YOU CONTINUE TO R N R AND ENCOURAGE ALL THE LURKERS TO DO THE SAME!! THANKS TO THOSE ADDING ME TO THEIR ALERT LISTS!!**


	38. Healing and repairing

**Healing and repairing**

"Some sort of window to your right,  
he goes left and you stay right  
between the lines of fear and blame  
you begin to wonder why you came."  
-How to Save a Life, The Fray

**A/N: anything in bold italics is what Samantha is writing down to communicate.**

* * *

The clock across the room read quarter after ten. Thunder rumbled outside and thick dark clouds hung ominously in the sky. The ran had subsided, but the forecasters were predicting much more. The city had never seen that wet of a summer. And it did little to rid the air of the stickiness and humidity.

Flack sat at his desk, trying his best to concentrate on the work in front of him and failing miserably. For the last half hour since he'd gotten hold of the Bloomfields in Switzerland to inform them of the untimely deaths of their loved ones and arranged to meet with them on their arrival in New York, he'd done little more than stare at the computer screen in front or him and tap his pen noisily on the top of his desk. An autopsy report lay open to his right. Official COD on the first five victims had been massive blood loss due to multiple stab wounds. Sid had counted over a dozen on each vic, including the gashes across their throats that came mere millimeters from severing an artery. They'd been sedated with the drugs before any of the injuries had been inflicted. COD on little Tessa was a drug overdose. Sex assault had occurred prior to death, the stabbing afterwards. What Flack couldn't piece together was what the little girl was doing in the basement, what the perp -now identified as Travis Cooper, the 33 year old former gardener for the Bloomfields- had against the family do to such a twisted, horrible thing, and how the hell he'd managed to kill that many people by himself. Flack suspected the guy had some help, but so far, he wasn't talking.

Flack had seen a lot of nasty, horrific crime scenes in his time. But the one last night at that sprawling mansion had to be one of, if not, the worst. One he wouldn't forget any time soon. And as terrible as it had been, the only thing he could think about was Sam. In the past two hours alone he'd made over a dozen phone calls to the hospital to check on her. He had the feeling he was getting on the nurses nerves. Not that he cared. What he did care about was counting the minutes until he could get the hell away from work. He'd had his little chat with IAB and they'd cleared him of any wrong doing. They had, however, given him a strong reprimand and a warning to keep a better eye on his people when clearing a scene.

He glanced up at the sound of Gerrard's voice across the bullpen area. His boss was standing in the doorway of a meeting rom with the same IAB rep Flack had talked to and the young uniform who'd fucked up so bad at the scene.

And all three were smiling. And that made Flack's blood boil and his stomach twist into knots.

Gerrard slapped the uniform on the back. "Don't worry son," he said. "It was an honest mistake. These things happen."

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again." the IAB rep said. "You're very lucky the CSI in question wasn't killed."

The uniform laughed uneasily. "Hey... one last science geek, right?"

The IAB rep frowned at that comment. Gerrard had the nerve to chuckle.

Flack's blood pressure doubled in less than thirty seconds. He watched and waited for the uniform to begin walking towards the front door, and for Gerrard and the IAB rep to disappear down the hall and hole themselves up in Gerrard's office before pushing his chair away from his desk and getting up to follow the uniform.

He caught up to the young officer in the parking lot, just as the kid was unlocking to driver's side door of his patrol car. Before he could open it all the way, Flack slammed it closed and the uniform turned to see who it was, an immediate frown of covering his face.

"You told me you checked the basement." Flack said, voice low and serious.

"Detective Flack, Gerrard and IAB told me not to discuss this with you. I've already told them my side and that's it. It's over." he went to open the door.

Flack held it shut. "I asked you if you checked every last spot. My exact words were 'are you sure it's secure because I don't want a CSI getting raped or pillaged down there' and you swore up and down that you checked every goddamn inch."

"I did. I never thought of checking the wine celear. And I didn't hear anything weird, so..."

Flack's temper and voice rose. "You didn't find if just a bit weird that the dead bolt on the door was undone?"

"I assumed that..."

"You don't assume anything. Ever. Assumptions get people killed. And that nearly happened."

"But it didn't." the uniform pointed out.

"It could have." Flack told him.

'"Look, no harm, no foul, right? And if those lab geeks were real cops, they'd..."

Flack felt his last shred of patience shatter. He grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt and tossed him against the cruiser, holding him there with all the strength in his body. "They are real cops. More than half of them were once uniforms just like you and just like I was. Mac Taylor is a decorated Marine and Doctor Sheldon Hawkes is someone I respect and would pick to have my back any day. You told me that the basement was clear and someone I really care about nearly died tonight. She's still unconscious in the hospital and is gonna be there a while. If it was up to me, you'd be writing parking tickets for the rest of your career. Or working as a rent a cop down at Macy's."

The young uniform looked terrfied. He'd heard stories about Detective Flack's quick and brutal Irish/Italian temper and was now getting to see at least a portion of it.

"You're stupidity nearly kills someone and all you can do is toss insults around? I should kick your sorry ass up and down this parking lot!"

"I'm sorry!" the uniform babbled. "Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry?"

"If I hear another word coming out of you about her, I will hand you your ass twice over!" Flack warned him. "And if she doesn't pull through this, I am going to come looking for you and when I find you, all your little precinct buddies won't be able to help you or stop what I'll be doing to you. What happened to those vics last night? That's gonna look tame compared to what I'm gonna do to you. Understand?"

The uniform swallowed noisily and nodded.

Flack let the kid go now that he'd nearly made the guy piss his pants. He pointed a finger of warning in that terrified face. "Anything happens to her, you better be lookin' over your shoulder. So you better do a lot of goddamn praying that she's going to be okay."

The uniform just nodded, threw open his car door and scampered inside. He couldn't get out of that parking lot fast enough.

Flack sighed heavily. Feeling at least somewhat sated for the time being, and turned to head back inside. Only to come face to face with Mac and Stella. Judging by the looks on their faces, they'd seen and heard nearly everything.

"What was that about?" Stella asked.

"Little disagreement." Flack replied. In a tone that really meant 'mind your own goddamn business'.

"Looked like more than a little one." Mac commented.

Flack ignored that. "You guys here to talk to Cooper? He just got up about an hour ago. He's not saying much other than how sick is he. Says he doesn't remember killing anyone or attacking a cop. But those bullet grazes are reminding him he was bad boy last night."

Mac frowned. "You talked to him? With no one present?"

"I just asked him a few questions." Flack said.

"I told you to stay away from him, Don. Even one question is too many. You know that. His lawyer could easily say you were forcing him into a confession. That you leaned on him because you're personally connected."

"Is it really that easy for you, Mac?" Flack asked. "To close yourself off and not feel anything?"

Stella suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable and didn't want to, or need to , hear anymore. "I'm going on." she said. "Whenever you gentlemen are finished..."

Mac waited until Stella was out of ear shot to continue. "I've learned how to separate things," he told Flack. "How not to let my personal feelings for Stella or anyone else cloud my work judgement."

"Well I guess that's my down fall, Mac. I'm human. We can't all be like you."

"That line we talked about, Don? The one between professional and personal? You're starting to cross that. Both you and Samantha promised me neither of you would let your feelings for each other affect your work."

"Mac, she almost died. She's in the hospital. Unconscious. We don't even know if she's going to come out of it the same person she was before. There could be all kinds of problems from those drugs. The seizures could have caused permanent problems. All that and all you can talk about is keeping things separate? How do I do that? When I love her as much as I do. I should be at that hospital, Mac."

"You have a job to do, Don. As cold as that sounds, it's the truth. You have a job to do and you need to go and do it."

Flack shook his head in disbelief. "You're unreal." he said.

"I know that's not what you want to hear." Mac told him. "And I know it's killing you inside not to be there with her. But you have a responsibility to yourself and this team to do your job. I know that sounds cold, but..."

"It does sound cold. It is cold." Flack said and began walking away. "But I've come to expect that from you."

* * *

It was quarter after one in the afternoon when Flack was finally able to clock out. The case was closed. He'd watched and listened to Stella and Mac conduct a phenomenal, anger and emotion filled interrogation of Travis Cooper. He'd even up coughing up his four buddies that had assisted in the horrific massacre of six innocent people. Cooper and his equally as drugged up buddies, had gone to the house to seek revenge on the Bloomfield family over what Cooper described as an unfair work dismissal. He kept showing up for work all hopped up on Demerol and Oxycontin, courtesy of one of his buddies who was stealing it from Angel of Mercy where he worked as an orderly. Mrs Bloomfield couldn't put up with his drug problem and subsequent foul, erratic behaviour, especially around her children. So Cooper hatched a Helter Skelter like plan with his friends and what happened the night before was the end result.

It hadn't mattered that when they got to the house they found another family, not the one they ended on butchering. Cooper had tried to justify their actions of drugging the victims before hand, calling it an act of compassion and humanity.To make matters worse, they had decided to kidnap little Tessa and keep her as long as possible as a sex slave. After repeatedly raping her in the basement -where they planned to make their escape from- they had been prepared to take her away when she suddenly collapsed, went into convulsions and died. They'd given her a massive, fatal dose of the drugs. And when the cops showed up -thanks to Gramma's last heroic act of phoning 911, the buddies had the sense to take off into the ravine while Cooper hid out.

His reasoning for attemtped murder of a police officer? He didn't want any evidence left behind that could be traced back to him and was prepared to kill and to steal whatever had been collected. The buddies were picked up after Cooper coughed up their names and locations, and with solid arrests under his belt and the relief the news of Zack's death brought him, Flack was finaly able to call it a day and head to where he belonged.

Carmen was asleep in one of the bedside chairs when he arrived. Her shoes were kicked off and her feet up on the edge of the bed. Her head tilted at an odd angle and a warm wool blanket tucked around her and pulled up to her chin. She stirred when she felt someone nudge her legs and she murmured and slowly opened her sleepy eyes. Blinking in the bright sunlight that cascaded through the thin drapes, she glanced up and smiled at Flack as he stood beside her, holding a carry tray of coffees and a bag from the downstairs gift shop.

"Hey." she said, yawning noisily.

"Hey." he took out one of the coffees and handed it to her.

"Thanks. What time is is?"

"Almost quarter to two." he sat the tray and gift bag down on the bedside table.

"Really? Shit. How'd it go? Was he the guy we wanted?"

"And then some. Him and a few buddies of his decided to hand out a lite punishment 'cause he got fired as the Bloomfields gardener for being a junkie. It's a long story. All that matters is that we got him and he's behind bars, where he deserves to be."

"Always a good feeling when the bad guy goes away." Carmen declared.

How's she doing?" he asked, going to the side of the bed and gently pushing Sam's hair away from away from her face, tucking it behind her ear like she always liked to wear it. There was a nasty row of stitches that closed the gash above her eye and the side of her face was bruised and swollen. Her slender, pale neck was covered in hideous bruises.

He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and look down at her with such love and adoration that Carmen thought her own heart would burst just watching him.

"The doctor was here not too long ago." Carmen told him. "He said that her vital organs are operating at close to hundred percent. He'll keep any eye on her some heavy duty meds for the seizures and leave the catheter in to keep an eye on her water works. She opened her eyes a couple hours ago."

"Good news." Flack said.

"She was really out of it but she opened her eyes and looked right at Adam while he was talking to her. Then she went back to sleep and hasn't been up since. She hasn't even moved, actually."

"Yeah, well rest is what she needs, right?" he kissed her forehead once more and then went to the gift bag and opened it. "Check this out, Devine." he said, and from the bag pulled out a snow white stuffed animal. A Persian cat to be exact. With big blue eyes and long whiskers and a shimmering pink and purple ribbon around its neck.

"There is a sight I thought I'd never see." Carmen declared. "You with a stuffed animal."

"Sam asked me the other day if I'd buy her a cat. And seeing as I have massive allergies so the idea is out of the question, I thought I'd get her the next best thing. Saw it downstairs and I couldn't resist." He sat the cat down next to Sam's pillow.

Carmen smiled. Thinking what a sweet, unselfish gesture it was on his part.

Flack grabbed his coffee and pulled the second chair up beside the bed so he and Carmen sat on either side of it.

"What?" he asked, when he noticed her staring at him.

"You never cease to amaze me, Flack. One minute your big tough cop chasing down a perp, the next your buying your girlfriend a stuffed animal.'

"I am a study in contradiction." he declared.

They sat in silence for several minutes, sipping their coffees. Carmen noticed that not once did Flack's eyes leave Samantha, alternating between looking at her face and the vital signs that were displayed on the large screen behind the bed.

"You hear anymore from Gerrard?" Carmen asked.

"Not yet. But I'm sure I will."

"IAB was here. Around ten. They don't waste any time, huh?"

"They're fucking bastards." Flack said. "Guess they weren't too impressed they couldn't talk to her."

"One guy kept trying to wake her up. He was pretty persistent. And rude. I kept telling him it was a lost cause, she'd be out for a while. But he would not give up. So I called security and had him removed."

"Good. And thanks. For sticking around 'til I got here.'

"She's my best friend, Flack. I wasn't going to leave her alone. And you're welcome. So are we going to do this? Come to the hospital while we're working?"

"No problem. I have the next three weeks off."

Carmen's eyes narrowed. "You weren't suspended, were you?"

"No. Sinclair showed a shred of humanity and asked me if I needed to take some paid leave. To take care of her. So I took it."

"I've said it before and I will say it again. You are a man in love." Carmen told him and yawned noisily.

"You should take off, Carmen. Get some rest."

"I should. I didn't want to leave until you got here. In case she woke up."

Carmen stood up, yawning and stretching noisily. She leaned over the side of the bed and kissed Sam's forehead and stroked her friend's cheek softly. "I'll see you in a little bit, baby girl." she whispered, then turned to Flack, tears in her eyes. "That was really scary." she said.

He stood up as well and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "Yeah." he agreed. "It was. Hope we don't ever have to go through something like this again."

"Hope not." Carmen sniffled.

"Got some news on Zack." Flack said and let her go.

"Wonderful. When it rains it pours."

"He's dead. And inmate knifed him early this morning. After raping him."

"Is it wrong of me to want to dance a jig right now?" Carmen asked.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. I must sound like a real evil bastard for saying that."

"No." she said. "You sound human."

* * *

Three days later, Adam found himself walking into Gus Broussard's office, his sister's journal in hand. Samantha had finally come to the night before, around ten o'clock, while he was sitting in one of the chairs by her bed, playing his PSP. Flack had gone to grab something to eat and some fresh air. He'd been at the hospital non-stop, taking short breaks to go home and shower and change. The rest of the team made frequent visits and the room was filled to exploding with floral arrangements and balloons and get well cards and stuffed animals. Adam had managed to to talk the Sarge and their mother out of flying in. Assuring them that everything was under control and Sam was well taken care of.

Estelle, Gus' secretary, glanced up from her typing and at the young man standing at the window. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yeah... uh... I'm here to see Doctor Broussard."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Not exactly." Adam sheepishly admitted.

"You can't see her without an appointment." Estelle told him.

"My sister, she had an appointment scheduled for today but she can't 'cause she got hurt on the job and she's in the hospital and just finally became coherent and..." Adam took a deep breath. "she asked me to come here and give the doctor something."

"Detective Ross is your sister?"

Adam nodded.

"I heard about the incident. How is she?"

"Much better."

"Have a seat, hon, and I'll let Gus know you're here. She's just with a client right now.'

"Thanks." Adam said and sat down in the small waiting room. Staring down at the purple journal in his hands, fighting the evil temptation to read it. He snuck a peek and decided when he saw Tim Speedle's name and a question mark beside it that he just didn't want to know.

The door leading from the office area to the waiting room clicked open softly and Adam looked out. There before him was a tall, willowy, exceptionally beautiful blond.

"Mr Ross?" Gus asked,

He jumped up and went to her. "Adam." he said, offering his hand.

"Adam." she said with a smile and shook his hand warmly. "Pleasure to meet you.'

"You too." he said. Damn, he thought. She is way too pretty for words. "My... uh...my sister wanted me to...uh...she wanted me to give you this." he said and held up the journal. "She's been writing in it constantly and seeing as she couldn't make it today, she wanted me to bring it by. She said she'll use a note pad 'til she gets this back at her next appointment. She told me to tell you that what's in it is very important and she needs you to read it. Well, she didn't exactly tell me verbally 'cause her vocal cords have been damaged and she can barely talk so she writes everything down. And her hand writing is awful and we can all hardly read it and we... I'll shut up now. I ramble when I'm nervous. Sorry."

"Why are you nervous?" she asked, finding him rather appealing with his head of wild curls and turqouise eyes. He and his sister looked nothing alike. Except for the freckles.

"I always get nervous around really beautiful women." Adam said.

Gus felt herself blush in spite of herself.

"I am sooo sorry." Adam said. "I should not have said that. That was very inappropriate of me considering the circumstance. I am sooo sorry."

"It's okay." Gus assured him. "We all like a compliment from time to time."

He smiled. He liked her voice. Her accent. It was alluring.

"How is your sister?" Gus asked.

"A lot better. She came to last night. The perp really drugged her up and it took a while for her to come out of it. Doctors were worried about organ failure and stuff like that, but she's almost out of the woods."

"By God's graces." Gus said.

Adam nodded. "She's going home in a few days. Thank God. Maybe another couple of weeks or longer 'til she can go back to work though. That'll kill her. She's kinda a workaholic when she's not being a sexaholic or an alcoholic."

Gus blinked.

"Joke. Meant that as a joke." Adam laughed uncomfortably. "Anyway, like I said, she's going home soon. Well, not home. But to her boyfriend's. He took some time off to take care of her."

"That was nice of him."

Adam shrugged.

"You don't like Detective Flack?" Gus asked.

"No. I mean yes. I like him. He saved my butt not to long ago and he's great to work with. I do like him. I just don't like him with my sister. I have protective brother issues."

Gus nodded.

Adam checked his watch. "I have to go." he said. "It's just an hour break and I wanted to run the journal over."

"Tell your sister I'll have a look at it. Take care, Adam."

"You, too. You know, if you want and you don't find it inappropriate, you could stop by Trinity to see her. She talked really highly of you and she'd probably like to see you."

"I'll try to swing by." Gus told him.

"Great. Well, see ya. Bye."

"Bye." she said simply and watched him disappear out the door. She stared at that door for a very long time.

* * *

Samantha was sitting up in bed with Carmen beside her. Sam was till hooked up to both the IV and the catheter. She was drawn and weary looking and looked like she could sleep for a million years. The doctors were slowly weaning her back onto food, starting with liquids and pureed. At the moment she was enjoying soft vanilla ice cream smothered in caramel sauce while wearing a comfortable pair of pyjamas from home and flipping through a copy of US magazine.

"Check this pic of Britney out." Carmen said and nodded to a photo in her own Star magazine. "Look how bad her weave looks. All that money and she can't buy herself a better weave? What's up with that?"

"She's a goddamn train wreck." Sam said, her voice best described as a squeak from a very tiny mouse.

"She was so cute and all when she first came out and now look." Carmen said.

"I know. What the fuck happened to her is what I'd like to know. Justin breaks up with her and she goes to shit. And then that K-Fed bum. He needs to get to Taco Bell and get himself a job. When he's named father of the year, you just know the world is coming to an end." she took some ice cream and then a sip of ice water.

"Throat sore?" Carmen asked.

Sam nodded.

"Here." Carmen grabbed a washable magic marker and a small washable message board from the night stand. "Take it easy and use this."

"Can't wait until..." her voice cracked and she uncapped the marker and wrote: _**I can eat real food**_

"Why are you complaining?" Carmen asked. "You're on a steady diet of Popsicles and ice cream."

_**I'm gonna get fat**_

"Yeah. Right. Once you get out of here, you can burn it off with wild, hot sex."

Sam grinned. _**He's slept here every night since this happened. When I go to sleep he's here and when I wake up he's here. That's not a complaint.**_

"I know." Carmen said.

_**I love him. So much.**_

Carmen smiled and kissed her friend's cheek. "I know baby girl, I know. And he loves you. Do you realize that now?"

_**I do.**_

A knock came to the door and Stella poked her head in. Carmen waved her into the room.

"How's it going?" Stella asked. "How's our patient?"

"Well, she's still a patient," Carmen replied. "But she's getting there.'

Sam gave an okay sign.

Stella leaned over the bed to give the younger woman a hug and kiss to the cheek. "Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"So-so." Sam managed to say. "Today I had..." her voice gave way again and she rolled her eyes and wrote it down. _**Speech therapy.**_

"For what?" Stella asked.

Sam pointed to her throat.

"Damage to her vocal cords." Carmen said. "The therapist is trying to strengthen them. And you should see him. He's cute."

_**Looks like Colin Farrell. Don is sooo not impressed.**_

Stella laughed. "Guess not. Look what I brought." she opened the plastic bag she was carrying. "Those strawberry Kool-Aid pouches you always bring to work and tons of reading material. Got some Sudoku game books in here and the new issue of Cosmo." Stella held up the latter. "Listen to some of the articles, 15 ways to blow your man's mind, men's secret hot spots, and my personal favorite, 10 steps to earth shattering orgasms."

"Nice." Carmen declared.

Sam gave an enthusiastic two thumbs up and went back to her ice cream

Stella took a seat on the edge of the bed. "So, you get to leave soon or what?"

"A few days...can't wait... tired of..." she pointed to the bag at the side of the bed.

"Peeing through a tube?" Stella finished. "I thought your kidneys were working normally?"

"Slightly below." Carmen said. "Docs are keeping an eye on it."

"Well you better hurry up and get better." Stella said. "So you can come back to work. Mind you, you'd be the first CSI to every work with a portable catheter."

_**If I could, I would laugh at that.**_

"We miss you, kiddo." Stella said sincerely, "Hurry up and get better, okay?"

Sam nodded.

''Where's Flack?" Stella asked.

"Speed took him for a beer and for something to eat." Carmen replied. "Relax a bit. He's been here non stop since he's been off. He even sleeps in a chair or on this crappy roll out couch someone found."

Sam nodded in agreement. Although earlier, he had crawled into the bed right along side of her, careful to mind her tubes, and promptly fell asleep. It was Carmen and Tim that who woke them up, after standing there for a while, thinking how adorable the sight was. Well, at least Carmen had thought that.

Stella smiled. "It's what a man will do when he's madly, desperately, hopelessly in love. I'm so happy for you guys, Sam. That you found each other. I've never seen Flack as happy as he is with you. You've changed him. Made him think of the future and what he wants out of it. And that's no small feat. You're good for him. And I'm glad he realizes that."

Sam smiled.

"I guess you're happy about Zack." Stella said.

Sam frowned. "What about him?"

Stella looked at Carmen. Then back at Sam. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Sam, Zack's dead. He was killed in prison."

Sam's eyes narrowed and she looked at Carmen for confirmation.

Carmen simply nodded.

"When?" Sam asked.

"Five days ago." Stella replied. "Same night as your attack."

"No one told me?"

"Honey, you've been out of it all this time." Carmen reasoned gently. "When we're we going to tell you? You just woke up last night and we were all so happy to hear you were going to be okay that we didn't want to ruin it by mentioning Zack."

"How?"

"Another inmate found out he was a cop." Stella explained. "Decided to exact revenge for all the wrongs various cops had done him in the past. He stabbed him. Several times. And raped him."

Sam was stunned. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Hey," Carmen said. "Don't you do that. Don't you cry for him. Don't give him that."

"It's not that. It's just that..." her voice cracked and she put her hand to her throat and winced. _**That part of my life is over. I can finally get on with the next part. Only I don't know how.**_

Stella hugged her. "Don't worry, kiddo." she said. "We'll help you as you go."

* * *

Flack was stretched out beside her on the cramped hospital bed, watching the small hospital t.v., his arm securely around her, her tiny body tucked into his side. Her catheter had been removed the day before, but she was still on the IV and the strict liquid, baby food diet. The doctors gave the okay for her to go home in three days, and depending on follow up exams, back to work in three weeks.

Sam was flipping through one of the many magazines Stella had brought. Eating a cherry Popsicle. Her throat felt like it was on fire. The bruises around her neck and on the side of her face deep, ugly purple.

"I was thinking," Flack said. "If you're feeling okay next week, we can do some stuff while I'm off."

Sam grabbed the board and the magic marker. _**What kind of stuff?**_

"I don't know. Tourist stuff. Go to the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, stuff like that. I'll even push you around in a wheelchair."

She frowned. _**That is going way overboard. If I can make it down the hall to the elevator and to the bathroom, I'll be okay.**_

"Fine." he said. "No wheelchair. Just lots of breaks. We have lots of time to do stuff. Adam is going to come and stay with you when I go back to work. He got a week off. By the end of that, you should be ready to come back."

"Hopefully." she squeaked.

"No talking. Your other boyfriend said not to talk for a couple days. Now I know that's hard for someone like you...'

She elbowed him playfully.

He kissed the top of her head. "And in a few days you should be onto regular food again and we can go out and have a nice quiet, romantic dinner and not have to worry about being interrupted."

She touched her neck and the side of her face.

"Doesn't matter what it looks like." Flack told her. "If people stare at you, I'll just tell him that the other guy looks worse."

She smiled and went back to her Popsicle. Finishing it off, she tossed the garbage into the can by the bed. Careful to watch her IV in her left hand, she cuddle in close to him, her head on his chest.

"Tired?" Flack asked, rubbing her back.

She shook her head.

"You should get some rest. You need all the rest you can get."

"I'm not tired. I just..."

He handed her the magic marker and the message board when her voice failed.

_**I just want you to lie here with me and hold me.**_

He turned off the t.v. and wrapped both arms around her. She closed her eyes and nestled her face in his shoulder as he stroked her hair softly.

"You really scared me." he said.

She pulled back to look at him. Saw the tears in his eyes.

"I was so scared, Samantha. When I saw you down in the ER and you had thos eseizures and you wouldn't wake up for four days... you really, really scared me. I was afraid I was going to loose you. And I don't want to loose you.'

She kissed him softly.

"I love you so much." he said. "You'll never know how much."

I love you, too, she mouthed and used her finger tips to wipe away his tears.

"I don't want to go through this ever again. This time you were lucky but what if next time..."

She kissed him again to silence him.

"I want to be with you. Spend my life with you. I want you to have my kids. And I need to know if you're feeling the same way. I need to hear it from you. Not anyone else. I need to know if we're on the same page here."

"Are you trying to ask me something?" she managed.

"Not yet. But I want to know that I won't be making an ass out of myself when I do. That you won't say no."

She picked up the marker again. _**I won't say no. You're the only person in the world I can see myself married to and having babies with. **_

"I just thought after Zack, maybe you wouldn't be into the marriage thing."

_**Zack doesn't matter anymore. He's dead. That part of my life is dead. I want to have a new life. With you. Can we work on that?**_

He nodded and kissed her. Soft and loving. When he went to pull away, she put her hand on the back of his head and deepened the kiss. When it started getting a little too intense, he managed to pull away.

"You're not ready for that, Sam," he told her. "Neither am I. And even if we were, this isn't the time or the place."

"I miss you." she said.

"I miss you, too. But you're back now and neither of us are going anywhere and we got all the time in the world. Rest of our lives."

She smiled and kissed him and cuddled into him.

* * *

A soft knock came to the door. A sheepish looking Adam holding a colorful arrangement of flowers.

"Uh...hi...guys... I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

Sam untangled herself from Flack and waved her brother in, a smile on her face.

"Mom and Sarge." Adam said, holding up the flowers. "They sent these instead of paying a visit. I have never been so thankful to have flowers delivered to my apartment."

He sat the arrangement down on the window ledge among the many others and went to the bed to give his sister a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better. Hungry. I want a Big Mac and fries and a sundae with caramel sauce and peanuts and..."

"No talking." Flack said. "Take it easy. You heard the therapist. You need to take it easy.'

Adam laughed. "Come one, this is Sammie. She doesn't know how to take it easy. Or shut up."

Sam tossed her magazine at him.

"See." Adam said. "She is getting better. She's back to her feisty, bitchy self. So did your hear? I get to be your nurse for a week. I'll stay with you until Flack gets home every night. As long as I can bring my PSP."

Sam picked up the marker. _**Don already has PS3 X-Box Game Cube and loads of games**_

"Dude!" Adam exclaimed. "I didn't know you were into video games!"

"Used to be." Flack said. "Until someone started taking up all my free time."

Sam wrote feverishly. _**He's full of shit. He stays up til 3 playing NHL '08 while he thinks I'm sleeping.**_

"Got Grand Theft Auto or Halo?" Adam asked excitedly.

"Both. Got Tony Hawks, Resistance, all kinds of sports stuff. Tons of things. About forty games all together."

"Sweet!" Adam cried. "I am so not gonna want to leave your place!"

"Sorry, Adam." Flack said. "One Ross taking up space is enough."

Adam laughed. Sam elbowed Flack in the ribs.

A nurse came in to change the IV and check Sam's vitals. Adam decided to head down to the cafeteria to grab him and Flack some coffee and Sam some ice cream. He was just steps off the elevator on the main floor of the hospital when he saw a familiar face in the floral shop, contemplating flower arrangements stored in a cooler. She was dressed in a form fitting sage green paint suit and had her hair back and glasses on.

Adam headed inside the shop and stood right behind her.

"She likes orange and yellow." he said.

Gus jumped and twirled around.

"Sorry." Adam said bashfully. "Didn't mean to scare ya...remember me? Sam's brother?"

"Adam." she smiled brightly. "I remember you very well. It's nice to see you again."

He turned about a dozen shades of red. "Uh... you, too...Dr Broussard. Or is it Mrs or Miss or Ms..."

"Gus is fine. What were you saying about orange and yellow?"

"Sam loves any flowers that are orange or yellow. You are here to see her, right?"

"I am. I heard she's looking up and I wanted to come by and give my best wishes. How is she?"

"Going home in a few days. Back to work in another three weeks they figure."

"I'm glad she's doing so well. All of you must be so relieved.'

"We are." Adam enthused.

"So." Gus said and turned back to the cooler. "Orange and yellow..."

She selected an arrangement of orange, yellow and white Gerber daisies, sunflowers and carnations. Adam took them from her to carry for her. Their finger tips touched. Both felt a little spark.

"Thank you." Gus said, uncharactersistically flustered and heading for the cash.

"You know," Adam followed her. "The nurse is in with Sam right now and I was just on my way to the cafeteria. You want to come with? I can buy you a cup of coffee."

"As much as I'd like to Adam, I don't think that's appropriate. Your sister is a client of mine and..."

"It's just a coffee, Gus. Nothing funny. Just coffee."

"I just don' think..."

"Just coffee." he repeated.

She saw the sincerity in his eyes. Thought how undeniably adorable he was. A sweetheart. "I will let you buy me a cup of coffee." she conceded.

"How about dinner?" he tried. "Can I buy you dinner?"

"Adam..."

"Out of bounds. You're right. I'm sorry. What if my sister wasn't your client? Would you go out to dinner with me then?"

"I would." Gus said.

Adam smiled. "Really? You would?"

Gus nodded.

Adam couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Memo to self, he thought. Find Sammie a new therapist.

**Once again, thanks to all of those R and R'ing!! Hope y'all are getting my e-mails and that y'all are still enjoying this!!**


	39. A life time of decisions

**A lifetime of decisions in less than six hours**

"There are those I am sure who have told you,  
They would give you the world for a toy.  
All I have are these arms to enfold you,  
And a love time can never destroy.

If you're wondering what I'm asking in return, dear,  
You'll be glad to know that my demands are small.  
Say it's me that you'll adore,  
For now and evermore  
That's all,  
That's all."

-That's All, Michael Buble

* * *

Early September saw New York City going through a rare 'cold snap'. The temperatures during the day hovering in the low to mid teens and the nighttime and early morning in the mid single digits. The breeze was strong and brisk and the sun was high and bright in a cerulean sky. The wind made the air seem even cooler, making Carmen thankful for the light jacket she'd brought along as her and Flack walked Fifth Avenue in mid town Manhattan. Sam was scheduled back at work the next day. Getting back on her feet took longer than expected thanks to kidney complications that had her re-admitted to the hospital and problems with all the meds she was taking making her violently ill, which only irritated her throat even more. A home nurse had come in for a while once Adam had gone back to work. Managing all of the drugs and making sure she got to appointments when no one else could take her. After a week, the nurse was cut down to part time when Mac gave Stella some time off to be with Sam. Stella had formed a mother/daughter bond with the young CSI that had Mac considering the kind of mother Stella would make.

Carmen and Flack had a distinct destination on their prospective lunch breaks. One that had Carmen both shocked and exhilarated with anticipation. She could barely keep the giddiness inside as they purposefully headed down the crowded sidewalk.

"So do you think she is absolutely ready to come back to work?" Carmen asked.

"The doctor says she's good to go. And she's been seeing Gus for counselling and Gus doesn't see a reason why, psychologically, she can't do the job. No depression, no sign of PTSD. Nothing. And the department cleared her yesterday health wise. She passed the physical with flying colors."

"Do you think she's ready to come back? You're around her more than anyone. What do you think?"

"I don't know." Flack admitted. "She's been really sick the last few days. Other than that, I don't see why she can't come back. Mind you, I tried to convince Mac to keep her in the lab as opposed to out in the field. You can imagine what his reaction was like."

"Probably wondered what the hell was wrong with you. He would never leave her in the lab. She's too valuable out on the street. Next to Mac and Stella, she's probably the best. She's amazing at this job. I seriously think she was born to do this. And what do you mean by sick? From the incident?'

"More like the flu. Only I don't have it and that's weird considering we share a bed. You'd think I'd be sick, too."

"Describe this flu." Carmen said, wheels spinning in her mind.

"Puking her guts out night and day. Dizziness. Tired all the time."

"What about weird eating habits? Mood swings?"

"It's like she has PMS only ten times worse. She's all laughing and happy one minute, then she gets frustrated or upset and she bursts into tears. And when the gravol does manage to work, all she wants to eat is hot dogs and Kraft dinner. And celery with peanut butter on it. That's not normal. Is it? Then this morning, she had ice cream with strawberry jam on it for breakfast. That's not normal. Can that be normal?"

"For some people." Carmen reasoned. "Not for her, though. Considering normally she hates hot dogs. I think me and Sam need to have a talk."

"About the flu?" Flack asked, perplexed.

Is he that clueless? Carmen thought and stopped walking and turned to face him. "Look, does it really seem like the flu? Are you sick?"

"I feel fine."

"These symptoms you're telling me, there's other things that could be wrong."

His eyes widened in horror. "You mean like cancer? Shit like that?"

"Don't be so fatalistic!" she scolded him. "Let me give you a hint. It starts with a p."

"What?" he shook his head. "No. No way. That's not it. No way."

"And it takes up twenty one years of your life." Carmen added.

"It's impossible. She can't be pregnant. No way. Can't be. Trust me. We're careful. Very careful."

"Well, you see, Sam may have said something about forgetting to take a couple of pills. Five, actually."

"What? When was this?"

"Right before the attack. She didn't think it would cause any problems, but apparently..."

"But the doctors at the hospital did an ultrasound to check on her kidneys and never said anything about a baby. Would they not have noticed something like that?"

"The kidney and the uterus are two totally separate things, Flack." Carmen reminded him. "If they didn't suspect pregnancy, they wouldn't have had a reason to check the uterus. When was the last time she had her period?"

"I don't know. I don't keep tabs on it. Before she got hurt. I don't think she's had it since but the doctor said that can happen with the meds she's on. And if she is, what if those meds fuck up the baby?"

"Whoa... don't get ahead of yourself. You don't know anything for sure yet. But if she is, you best be getting her to a doctor and off of those meds to be on the safe side."

"Say it happened after the attack, like just recently, she's been taking the pill. Faithfully."

"Certain meds can render the pill useless."

"What the..." Flack took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily. Tried to compose himself. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling at the thought of Sam being pregnant. Shock? Little bit of anger maybe that no one mentioned all of these risks before? Even some fright over the thought of becoming a father?

"Don't you think the doctors should have mentioned that?" he asked. "So we could take other precautions? Use something else?"

"She probably never told them she was on the pill. She was unconscious when they began treating her. Did you tell anyone? Did anyone ask if she was taking any meds?"

"No one asked me a damn thing. 'Cause I wasn't her husband, they barely told me anything. I had to look at her chart when no one was around. Fuck. You can't be serious, Carmen."

"No, Flack. I am only making up an elaborate ruse to piss you off."

"I am not pissed." he said. "I wanna make that clear. I am not pissed. I'm... you really think she's pregnant?"

"I think you should go to a drug store, buy a test and take it home and make sure she takes it."

"Shit." he raked his fingers through what little hair he had. "And if she is...? I mean, a baby? Right now?"

"You both talked about this." Carmen reminded him. "About wanting kids together. So it happened earlier than you expected. She'll be a fantastic mother and you'll be an amazing father."

"We're not even married." Flack said. "I'm Catholic. Marriage is suppose to come first." he started walking again, needing to keep moving to sort out al the thoughts running through his brain.

"Okay. But as a Catholic you're also not suppose to have pre-marital sex so what happened there?" Carmen teased, hurrying to catch up.

"All right. So I'm a lapsed Catholic." he said.

"Things don't always work out the way we plan. You need to focus on Sam. She's jsut getting back to normal and if it turns out she is pregnant, she's going to freak out."

"I'm freaking out! Never mind her! Why'd you have to tell me all this now? I dont have enough to think about?"

"You? Who cares about you. She's the one who has to carry the baby for nine months."

"So what do I do? Buy a test and take it home and and say 'here'?"

"You buy it, take it home and give it to her and tell her you love her and you think there's more to this 'flu' than she realizes. Would you be okay with having a kid right now?"

"I guess... I don't know." he sighed.

"Well you're going to have to get used to the idea by the sounds of it."

"It's not that I wouldn't want the baby. It's just a shock. But what if she doesn't want it?"

"That's the least of your worries." Carmen assured him.

"And why'd you have to tell me all of this right now? I don't have enough to think about? Look..." he nodded to the front display window of 727 Fifth Avenue. The world famous Tiffanys. "We're here. How can I think about this when I'm thinking about that?"

"Multi-task, Flack. And why do I feel like we're doing something incredibly sneaky?"

He opened the front door of the store and motioned for her to go before him. "Because we are." he told her.

"Seems like something illicit if you ask me." Carmen pushed her sunglasses up onto her head.

"You're helping me pick out a ring, Carmen. We're not having sex or anything. You know, unless you want to."

She punched him in the arm.

"Just joking!" he told her. "I would not have sex with you anyway."

Carmen glared at him.

"I mean, I would. If I was single. That's what I meant."

* * *

A sales girl- tall and slender with waist length golden hair that framed a flawless face, electric blue eyes and a Play Boy bunny body- came out from behind the counter to greet them with a model worthy smile. "Welcome to Tiffanys." she said. "How can I service you today?"

Flack cleared his throat and smirked.

Carmen nailed him roughly in the side with her elbow. "We're here to look at engagement rings." she told the sales clerk.

"Follow me." the stunning blond said and turned and headed for a row of dazzling display cases.

"I feel like I'm going to puke." Flack whispered to Carmen.

"Would you relax? You're going to be fine. I'll help you."

"Here we are." the sale clerk announced, stepping behind a row of cases, the contents sparkling majestically through the glass.

"That many?" Flack asked. "And you have to just pick one? We'll be here all day."

"Let's narrow the search down." the clerk said. "What's your price range?"

"Eight to twelve grand."

"Where the hell did you get all that money?" Carmen asked when the clerk went to retrieve keys to open the cases.

"My grandfather passed away about a year ago and he left me a huge chunk of change. Paid my rent for an entire year, bought a new car, clothes, paid off all my credit cards. I still have twelve grand left and he distinctly told me before he died to find myself nice girl to spend some cash on. And here we are."

"What type of setting?" the clerk asked, opening the cases.

"Come again?" Flack asked.

"White gold." Carmen told the clerk.

"Single stone, multi? Classic diamond or colored. We have exquisite canary diamonds and some champagne and some blue ones."

"Single stone. Baguettes or channel settings are okay. Normal diamond. Excellent clarity, quality and cut. Only the best." Carmen told her.

The clerk began selecting rings based on that criteria.

"I am so glad I asked you to come with me and not Danny." Flack said. "He's as clueless as I am. And Speed? Forget that."

Carmen laughed. "The blind leading the blind."

The sales clerk laid a tray of a dozen rings on the top of the display case for them to look at.

"What about that one?" Flack asked Carmen. "Second on the top row."

"No. Pear shaped. Don't like that?"

"How about middle row, third over?" he suggested.

"Not a big fan of the princess cut." Carmen said.

He sighed. "Okay... last row, fourth over?"

"Heart shaped? Too tacky."

He fought the urge to bang his head on the display case.

"How long have you two been together for?" the clerk asked curiously.

"Excuse me?" Flack asked.

"How long have the two of you been together?" she repeated. "Getting engaged is a big step."

"No...no..." Flack said. "I'm not with her. Are you crazy? She's just here for moral support and advice. I'm not with her. No way."

Carmen stared at him.

Flack noticed the foul look she was giving him. "I mean, you're pretty and all that, Devine, and if I was single I'd date you. But I love Sam and you know that and..."

"I don't know whether to knock you out, tell you to shut up or let your did yourself a bigger hole." Carmen told him.

"I didn't mean it like that. And should this really be this difficult?"

"It takes time." the clerk said. "It's a big investment."

"That one!" Carmen exclaimed. "Bottom row, third one in! Can he see that one?'

The clerk removed the ring from its bed of velvet. "This is a one carat cushion cut diamond," she told them. "Set in fourteen karat white gold with channel set diamonds in the band that weight a carat in total." she held it between her thumb and forefinger and passed it to Flack. "Ten thousand, seven hundred. Comes with a lifetime warranty that if she looses a stone, we will replace it free of charge."

"It's gorgeous!" Carmen exclaimed excitedly. "Insanely gorgeous! Trust me, Don. That is the one!"

"You sure?" he asked. "Ten g's is a lot of money and if she doesn't like it..."

"She'll love it!" Carmen assured him. "Trust me!"

He took a deep breath, his entire future riding on that ring. "I'll take it." he said and passed it back to the clerk.

"You feel better now?" Carmen asked.

"No. 'Cause now I have to think of a way to do it. I'm not Mr.Romance. I know I wanna do it right. You know, down on one knee and all. Only get engaged once, right? I know Zack just kinda shoved the ring on her finger and said marry me. I want it to be nice for her. She deserves that."

"Go for sitting out on the balconey with some candles, a nice dinner, some wine. Well, maybe not the wine if she's..."

He sighed.

"Just speak from the heart, Don. Tell her you love her and want to spend forever with her. So on and so on. And then afterwards, take her inside and ravish her like she deserves and how she really likes. Have you guys even... you know... since the attack?"

"Once. That's it. She was having a hard time relaxing because she's worried about how she looks with all the bruises. So it wasn't the most...what's the word?...enjoyable night."

"In that case, then, she was probably already pregnant when she got attacked. Maybe she conceived just days before."

"Carmen, I am already freaking about dropping ten grand on a ring. Can we let the baby thing go for a few minutes? 'Til we get out of here?"

The sales clerk came back with the ring in the well known little blue box. "Would you like to check out some wedding bands?" she asked Flack.

"I think we'll come back for those." he said and passed over his VISA.

"You gonna wear one?" Carmen asked. "A wedding band?"

"Of course. Gotta let the ladies know I am off the market."

"Don't flatter yourself, Flack. A lot of cops don't wear wedding rings."

"That's because they don't want the lonely ladies on their beats knowing they have a wife at home. I happen to be madly in love with my future wife and want everyone to know it.'

Carmen smiled. "There you go getting all sappy again. I'm so happy for you guys."

"She hasn't said yes yet." he reminded her.

"Like there's a doubt?"

The clerk came back with his card and a receipt for him to sign. "Thank you." she said sincerely, shaking both their hands. "And good luck." she said to Flack.

"Thanks," he said. "So where to now, Carmen? Wanna go and grab something to eat?"

"You and your food." Carmen laughed.

"I am a growing boy, Devine. You hungry? Wanna get something? TGIF is just around the corner. My treat."

"Sounds good." she agreed. "You go and get us a table, and I am going to run over to the next block to the Walgreens and grab one of them home tests."

He sighed.

"Hey, you have to find out one way or the other. You love her, she loves you. Imagine how much love you guys will give this baby. You'll both be amazing parents. No doubt."

Flack smiled. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Hey, it's the truth. And let's face it. I'd make one hot looking god mother."

* * *

Carmen's head was spinning as she browsed the family planning section of the pharmacy. She was astounded to find there were at least a dozen and a half different brands of home pregnancy tests. How the hell did you know which one was the best? Did you believe the hype on the front of the box? Did you go by price? She went through the assortment two at a time, reading the information on the back of the boxes. In the end, she decided to just pick up three different ones and let Sam go to town with them.

She was just having her purchases rung in when a familiar, tall, leggy blond walked in through the front door. Oh shit, Carmen thought and tried to duck her head, praying she didn't get spotted.

"Carmen?" a perky voice beside her asked.

She managed a smile. "Uh...hi...Kendall."

"What are you..." she paused when she saw what was on the counter in front of Carmen. "doing here." she finished, eyes wide.

"Picking something up. For a friend."

"Should I say congratulations?"

"When my friend finds out for sure." Carmen said.

"A friend?" Kendall smirked. "Sure... does Speed know? Or are you waiting to tell him?"

"Kendall, you have this all wrong. These tests aren't for me." Carmen handed the cashier two twenties.

"You don't have to hide it, Carmen. Doesn't mean anything that you're not married. I mean, look at Brad and Angelina. They've got tons of kids and they're having more!"

The cashier handed the change and the plastic bag to Carmen.

"Thanks.." Carmen smiled at the elderly woman. "Kendall, I really have to go. I'm running late."

"I think this is amazing! You'll make a great mother!"

"Kendall... trust me... you have no idea what you're talking about. These aren't for me and it's really none of your business."

"Congratulations!" Kendall yelled after her.

Carmen just shook her head and walked away.

* * *

"We need to talk." Speed all but demanded, grabbing Carmen by the wrist an hour later and pulling her into the back hallway behind Mac's office.

"Can you make this quick?" she asked. "I was late coming back from my break and I have tons to do and..."

"When were you going to tell me?" he asked.

"Tell you?" she frowned. "About what?'

"Was I going to be the last one to find out? Everyone else was going to know before me?"

"Tim, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." he insisted.

"No, actually. I don't." she told him.

"What you bought today. At the drug store. Were you going to tell me you think you're pregnant?"

"What? Oh my God! You think...? Tim, those tests weren't for me."

"You lying about it even now?"

"No. I'm not. They weren't for me. I bought them for..." she sighed. "I bought them for Sam."

His eyes narrowed. "Mouse is pregnant?" he asked.

"They don't know for sure yet." she replied. "But she has all the symptoms and both Flack and I think she is..."

"Wow. They don't waste any time. How's Flack taking it?"

"Surprisingly well. He's actually happy about it."

"Really? Hmmm... wonders never cease to exist. Let's just hope the kid has his mother's looks or brains or it's in big trouble."

"That's not very nice, Mr Speedle." she scolded him.

"It's the truth."

"Flack is a very nice looking guy. And Sam's gorgeous so you just know this kid is going to be stunning."

"Well then let's hope it has its mother's brains. So you're really not..."

She sighed. "No."

"Not a very positive sounding no. You wish you were?"

She shrugged. "Do you want kids some day?" she asked.

"Sure. Some day. Why? Do you?"

She nodded.

"With me?" he asked.

"I never thought I'd ever want these things after what happened with Matt." she said. "And then I met you and all these things keep popping into my head. And I'd like us to get married one day and have kids and grow old together and all that fun stuff."

He smiled. "That's the most honest you've been with me since we've been together."

"I'm tired of hiding these things." she told him. "I can't keep it all in anymore. And if this freaks you out or..."

He kissed her softly. "You serious about all that?" he asked, looking deep into her eyes.

She nodded.

"Do me a favor then? You start planning the wedding you want for say, a year from now and I'll just show up. How's that?"

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"You plan whatever you want, however you want. I'll go and get the rings and a nice diamond and then you just tell me the date, time and place and I'll show up."

She smirked. "Did you just propose to me in some backwards way?"

"I guess I did. Just don't make me wear a tux. A suit is fine. No tux. Bad enough I gotta wear one to that nine eleven thing." his cell phone beeped and he checked the display. He sighed. "Autopsy. Gotta go." he kissed her quickly then headed down the hall.

What in the hell just happened? she thought.

* * *

It was a quarter after six when Flack arrived home. He locked the door and toed off his shoes and headed into the living room. The t.v. was tuned in to CNN. Samantha was spread out on the couch, back against the arm of the sofa, holding a wet face cloth to her foreead and wearing a t-shirt of his and a pair of joggers. A glass of ginger ale and some plain crackers sat on the coffee table.

"How ya feeling?" he asked, leaning over and kissing her softly.

"Shitty." she admitted. "Nothing is working. Not the ginger ale or the crackers. Not even the gravol. I called the doctor and she's going to check me out on Friday. How am I suppose to get to work when I'm feeling like this? A flu this bad."

"Sweeite, I don't think it's the flu." Flack said.

"The meds maybe? Screwing me up?

"Sam... we need to talk."

She suddenly bolted up right. "Not right now! Can't talk right now!" she cried and jumped off the couch, hand over her mouth, running for the bathroom.

Flack sighed and shed his jacket. He tucked the ring box into his pants pocket and carried the bag from the pharmacy as he headed in to check on her. She was hunkered down over the toilet, violently vomiting. He sat the bag down on the sink ledge, grabbed a face cloth and wet it with cool water and sat down on the ledge of the tub, dabbing the face cloth on the back of her neck.

"What is wrong with me?" she moaned into the toilet.

"It's gonna be okay." he assured her, rubbing her back. "Take it easy."

"I just want to die!"

"Sam, when was the last time you had an actual period?" he asked gently.

"I don't know... just before the accident. Why?"

"I don't think this is the flu, Samantha. I think this goes way beyond the flu. Will you do something for me?"

She nodded and lifted her head from the toilet.

He got up and went to the sink and reached into the bag and pulled out one of the tests. "I want you to take this." he said, holding the box out to her.

She took the box from him and looked at it. Then looked up at him.

"I really think you should take that." he said softly.

She nodded. "I think you're right."

He held out a hand and helped her to her feet. "Want me to leave?" he asked, as she opened the box and began reading the instructions.

She shook her head. "It takes ten minutes." she said.

"I got all the time in the world." he assured her.

"What if...?"

"I love you, Samantha. More than you'll ever know. And I'll love our baby just the same."

She smiled, took the test stick out of the wrapper and stared at it. "Are we ready for this?" she asked, retreating to the toilet to do her thing.

"Is anyone ever ready for this?" Flack asked.

She finished peeing, and laid the stick face up in the sink ledge. She got up and washed and dried her hands and took a drnnk of water. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub to wait.

He sat down beside her, put his arm around her tigthly and kissed the side of her head gently. "It'll all work out." he assured her. "Either way."

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder and put an arm around his back.

It was the longest ten minutes of their lives.

**Thanks to all of you R n R'ing. Love ya all!! Keep it up!! Today I am plugging big time! Please read Aphina's Devine Intervention and Madison Bellows' What it Means and Brooklyn Bridges. And their joint effort, What Ifs. You won't be disappointed. And check out laplandgurl's Magnet for Trouble. Great stuff from my fellow Canuck. Hope y'all are getting your mail!! Keep sending me mail!! I love it!! And all the lurkers adding me to their alerts, please read and review. It is really appreciated.**

**And on a small note: April 24 is my birthday!! Happy Birthday to me!!**


	40. Of babies and sparkly things

**WARNING:THIS IS RATED M BECAUSE IT WAS MY B-DAY AND I FELT LIKE WRITING IT!!**

**Of babies and sparkly things**

"You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,  
And you light me up, when you ring my bell.  
You're a mystery, you're from outer space,  
You're every minute of my everyday.

And I can't believe, uh that I'm your man,  
And I get to kiss you baby just because I can.  
Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,  
And you know that's what our love can do."  
-Everything, Michael Buble

**A/N: I was actually going to do a sad chap. and decided to be nice LOL!**

* * *

It felt like hours that they sat there quietly. Neither of them speaking a word, hearts pounding in their chest and a mountain of hopes and expectations and reservations weighing them down. It was amazing what went through your mind at a time like that. Waiting on news that would affect your entire life and the lives of those around you. Wondering just how in the hell you could take care of something so dependant on you when there were days that you could barely take care of yourself. If you could handle the years of responsibility that lay ahead of you when there were times you couldn't hold yourself accountable for your own actions, never mind someone elses. And there were those whimsical thoughts of what your child would be like, what they would look like or who'd they'd grow up to be. The things that you would teach them and do with them as they grew up. Getting your hopes up. And then praying to God that they didn't get dashed and break your heart.

Flack checked his watch. Cleared his throat. "You wanna look at it or you want me to do it?" he asked, feeling her trembling against him.

"I can't do it!" she squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't... you do it...I'm a wimp!"

He dropped the arm he had around her slender body and leaned forward and grabbed the test off of the sink ledge. There were two pink lines. Not that that meant anything to him. He'd never seen one of these before, never mind have to sit through one. He picked up the box that sat nearby and flipped it over to read the simple instructions.

Sam's eyes were glued shut. She was holding on to his thigh so hard he could feel her nails digging into the skin through his pants. The tips of her ears and her cheeks were going beat red, a sure sign of nervousness. "What does it say?" she asked, his prolonged silence making the situation even worse.

Carmen had prepared him for that exact moment, but when his brain caught up to what he had just read, a huge wave of shock and realization came over him. And he felt numb from head to toe.

"What does it say?" Sam asked again, near tears, fright and nervousness taking over.

He didn't even know if he could form words, let alone speak them. But he gave it his best shot. "It says that we're having a baby."

Her eyes snapped open. "What? Are you sure?"

"I've looked at it about ten times. That's what it says."

"Maybe you read it wrong." she said.

"Then you look at it." he told her and held it out.

She took both the test and the box in trembling hands. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and with his elbows on his knees, put his face in his hands and attempted to compose himself.

"Oh fuck!" she suddenly exclaimed.

It was such an unexpected, unbridled reaction that Flack couldn't help but laugh. It was not the most appropriate situation to laugh at, but his nerves just wouldn't let him get away without a little bit of humor.

"That's what got us to this point." he said

She frowned.

"Sorry... not the time for sarcasm." he removed his face from his hands and sat up and rubbed the small of her back soothingly.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice quiet, tears spilling down her pale cheeks, staring down at the test in her hands.

"What do you want to do?" he asked, grabbing the face cloth to wipe away her tears.

"I asked first." she retorted. Mentally preparing herself for what she suspected he'd say next. He doesn't want this, she thought. This is way too soon and he's going to realize what a mistake he's made, that he's not ready for a family and I'll be raising this baby on my own.

"I wanna keep it." he told her.

She sniffled noisily and looked at him. "You do?"

He nodded. "It happened a lot earlier than I expected it to, but you know that I wanted you to be the mother of my children. I told you that"

"We didn't plan this, Don. This is like a big ooops."

"In a way." he admitted. "But I know we can do it."

"What are we going to tell people? And my father! Oh my God, my father!! He's going to come down here and kill you! A baby without being married! He'll kill both of us!"

"Calm down, sweetie. Don't get worked up." he rubbed her back, pushed hair behind her ear.

"It wasn't suppose to happen like this!" she practically sobbed. "It shouldn't have been an accident!"

"I know we didn't plan it, but come on, Sam. It's our baby you're talking about."

"I know! But not like this! People will say, boy, did those two fuck up. Because you know that people are going to talk, Don. And they'll talk like it's a bad thing and how it was an accident."

"What the hell does that matter? It's our baby. It's not a fucked up thing. It's a beautiful, amazing thing. And the people that matter to us, will love and cherish this baby just the way we do."

"But what about your family? What will they say?"

"Samantha, this is between me and you and our baby. You can't seriously be thinking about terminating our child because you're afraid of what people are going to say?"

"What? No. I would never do that. Ever. This is the miracle of life. I'm just worried about what they'll say about us and the baby. And your parents! What will your parents say?"

"My parents don't matter." he told her. "They're not part of my life. You're my life. And now so is our baby. That's what I care about."

"You really want this, Donnie? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you want this? 'Cause if you don't, I'll understand and I'll take care of the baby on my own. I don't even expect you to pay support or..."

He took her face in his hands, stared into her eyes. "Samantha, I really want this. So bad it hurts."

"This is a huge, huge, step, Donnie."

"I know. But we'll be fine."

"But where will we live? I just signed a lease with Carmen! "

"Calm down, sweetie. Don't be givin' my kid high blood pressure. I've already organized things. I'll move in to the new place with you and Carmen and when Carmen moves in with Speed, we have her room for the baby."

Sam frowned. "Does she know you're kicking her out? And who says she's moving in with Speed?"

"This was actually her idea."

"You're brave. Moving in with two women and all the women issues we bring."

"She'll be moving out sooner than you think. Before the wedding."

"Wedding? Whose wedding?"

Flack frowned. "She didn't call you?"

"Call me about what? This is the most confusing half hour of my life."

"I guess Speed popped the question is some weird, obscure way. Then he called me and asked me to go ring shopping with him."

"Jesus, what is going on over at that lab? Some crazy shit if you ask me."

"Must be in the air." Flack said, and got up to get her a drink of water. "You okay?" he asked, handing her the cup.

She nodded. "I'm processing it. I'll be fine. You okay?"

"Yeah...I am."

She smiled and he touched her face softly.

"I have something I need to ask you." Flack said.

"Is it bad?" she asked cautiously.

"No. It's not bad." he assured her and pulled the box out of his pocket.

She stared at him as he got down on his knee in front of her. "What are you doing?" she asked, feeling tears well in her eyes again at the sight of that box in his hand.

"Samantha," he took one of her hands in his. "From the moment I met you outside the lab that day, I knew you were the woman I was meant to be with. I love you. There are no words that can describe how much. And I'll love you for forever. And I'm not good at this sort of thing so I'll just come right out and ask. Will you marry me?"

"Are you serious?" she choked on emotion.

"I have never been more serious in my life. And before you ask, I was going to buy this and ask before Carmen even told me she thought you were pregnant."

"Carmen? What does she have to do with this? She knows? That you were going to ask?"

"I asked her to come with me to pick out a ring. I told her how sick you were and she was the one who said you might be pregnant."

"You two are sneaky little bastards." she laughed. "I can't believe your proposing in the bathroom."

"Good as time as any, I figure. Is that a yes?"

"Ask me again and we'll see." she teased.

"Samantha Ross, will you marry me?"

She sighed dramatically. "I guess..."

"You guess? Thanks."

"Joking. Just joking." she leaned forward and kissed him deeply. "Yes." she said. "Of course I'll marry you."

He smiled, kissed her softly and slipped the ring onto her finger. "You like it?" he asked.

"I love it, it's beautiful. How'd you ever afford something like this?"

"My little secret." he said. "And yes, it was legal."

"A hundred percent?"

He nodded. "What? You think I robbed a bank? Or the store itself? You sure you like it? 'Cause we can take it back and get you something else if you don't. They've got lots and..."

She silenced him with a lingering, sizzling kiss. "I love it." she assured him. "And you know what else I would love? If you were to take me in that bedroom and we celebrate our baby and getting engaged. That would be the perfect ending to all of this."

He smiled. "Think so?"

She nodded. "I more than think so."

He stood up. "You want me to carry you cave man or Rhett Butler?"

"Rhett Butler. I'm in the mood for some romance."

"Baby," he said, scooping her up effortlessly. "I'm your man."

* * *

They were kneeling on the bed, lips and tongues locked together in hungry passion. Her hands yanked his shirt out of the waist of his pants and her fingers set to work on frantically undoing the buttons. He broke out of the kiss only long enough to pull the shirt off and toss it aside, his hands on her ass, pulling her tight against him to feel his growing desire. She ran her hands along his smooth, strong arms, from the wrists all the way to his broad shoulders, her nails lightly scraping along the back of his neck and into his shorn hair, pressing her body into his as she kissed him even deeper, more demanding.

Her hands travelled down again, to his waist, then slipped under the hem of his wife beater and trailed over the muscles in his back before coming back down and around to reach for the buckle on his belt.There was something so erotic to her about the simple act of undoing a man's belt. Something she'd never experienced or discovered until him. There was a lot she'd never experienced or discovered until him, actually. Like how it was okay to just loose yourself in the moment and be completely uninhabited without worrying about embarrasing herself. Zack had always made her feel as if there was something dirty and wrong with her if she enjoyed it or if she dared asked him to do certain things. With Don, she didn't have to ask. He just did it. Unselfishly and attentively.

She undid his belt, snapped open the button and slid down the zipper. Her hand slipped inside both his pants and his boxers and felt and heard him moan into her mouth when she stroked him firmly with her soft hands, bringing him quickly to a full erection. She slid her hands up over his stomach and under the wife beater, feeling the strong muscle of his chest under her eager fingertips.

He peeled the t-shirt off of her and tossed it aside, his lips on her neck as he reached around her slender, supple body to unclasp the back of her bra. Pushing the straps off of her shoulders he covered every inch of her tender, silky skin with his warm lips. He let the bra fall to the bed and slipped her hands down the back of her jogging pants to squeeze and caress the bare skin of her ass. She moaned at the feel of those strong, knowing hands on her aching, trembling body, then found herself pushed gently onto her back in the middle of the bed. On his knees, he pulled her pants and underwear off, letting them fall to the ground, then ran his fingertips from the tops of her feet all the way to her lips. Goosebumps quickly appeared on her pale skin. She was breathing heavily, her nipples painfully erect. His fingers lightly trailed over her breasts, drawing a teasing circle around each nipple until she whimpered and arched off the bed, pressing her breast into his hand. All this time he watched her face. Her eyes closed, soft, full lips slightly open. He moved up the bed, lightly cupped her small chin in his hand and kissed her softly.

Samantha reached for him but he moved away again, down her body. Crying out softly as he licked slowly around the nipple of one breast before taking it into his mouth and suckling firmly at it. She gasped and arched. Panting as he repeated the process with her other breast, before his lips travelled lower, pressing soft feathery kisses on her quivering body. He licked and sucked at her navel before kissing his way across her lower stomach. Where their baby was. His baby. No words could describe the love and pride he felt for her at that thought. That somewhere in her, thriving and growing was a child he had helped create. That they had made together and would raised together. Love together.

She was thinking the same thoughts. Saw the tenderness and adoration he had in his eyes for her as he looked up at her, and she smiled and touched his face softly. Overwhelmed the force of love that she felt for him, made even stronger at the thought of him being the father of her child. And her future husband.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. Then bit her lip and closed her eyes when those soft, warm lips drifted even lower. Opening her legs to gentle pressure from his hands, sighing as he kissed his way from the back of her knee to her thigh, the felt the tip of his tongue graze her clit. She cried out at the sensation and arched her back. Flack put his hand on her hip to hold her where she was. She moaned as he licked slowly along her clit at first, then quicker and harder, slipping a finger inside of her warm, moist entrance, thrusting it in and out slowly,gently. Then curving the finger up and back to find her g-spot and pressing on it and firmly, stroking it almost roughly while he tongue continued to lap and suck at her, then flicking his tongue against her sensitive clit. She came hard, crying out helplessly, her entire body spasming.

He burrowed his face deeper into her, his free hand slipping between her and the matress to squeeze and rub her ass as he continued to lick and finger her. Another wave slowly began building inside of her. Before him, she'd never orgasmed more than once. Sometimes she never did at all. With him, she realized she could. And how easily it sometimes happened. The surge hit her hard as he brought her to climax again, tears streaming down her face at the sheer ecstasy of it. She felt a cool rush of air as his head moved from between her thighs. Her scent on his lips as he came up to kiss her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed at the sight of the tears. "Shhh...don't cry, baby...you want me to stop?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay." she assured him. Just... everything... happening at once...it's a little overwhelming, that's all."

"I love you." he said simply, kissing her.

"I love you, too. And I want you to make love to me. I need you to make love to me."

He kissed her again, then sat back on his heels and grabbed her by the ass and pulled her towards him, holding her steadily as he slipped inside of her slowly. Her eyes closed, her body trembled, her hands grasped the blankets beneath her. His thrust were slow yet deliberate and hard, pulling almost fully out before sliding back in again and filling her up completely. While her eyes were closed, his were open, watching her face, the way the pleasure was affecting her. He caressed her ass with one hand and stroked her clit with the other. Until she was panting and moaning and he knew she was very close again. He watched her. The look of pleasure on her face and knowing he was doing that for her a complete turn on.

"Samantha..." his voice was raspy, breathing laboured. "Samantha...open your eyes...look at me."

Her eyes flickered open and focused on his.

"You're so beautiful." he said. "I love you so much...forever...you're mine forever."

Those words sent her over the edge and she came powerfully, screaming his name, clutching the blankets beneath her, her entire body spasming underneath him. He grabbed her ass in both hands, watching her while she came. The clenching of her inner muscles bringing him closer and closer. After a few strong thrusts he came hot and relentlessly deep inside of her, her name on his lips. Her body relaxed completely, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes closed once again, hands resting on her stomach. His hear pounded in his chest, thundered in his ears. His body was drenched in sweat.

Flack waited until he had composed himself before letting go of her ass and pulling out of her slowly. He leaned over to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him in return, pulling him down on top of her. He had just the right amount of brain cells left to put his hand down on the bed to spare her his weight.

She stared at him, a frown on her face.

"The baby." he said simply. He didn't want to take any chances of having anything bad happen. That included crushing her tiny frame with his much bigger one. He kisses her softly them rolled over onto his back.

Sam shivered in the chill of open window. She gathered up the comforter and draped it over them as she lay back down on her side, snuggled close to him, her head on his chest and her hand on his stomach. "You're not going to be one of those, are you?" she asked.

"One of those what?" he replied, stroking her hair and her back with one hand, the finger tips of the other drifting up and down her arm.

"One of those expectant fathers that worry constantly and won't let the woman do anything." she told him. "Treat me like a china doll and touch and talk to my belly all the time."

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "And if I am?" he asked.

"You are, aren't you!" she raised her head to grin at him. "You are going to be the type that puts your ear on my stomach to listen to the baby and rub my stomach constantly like it's a magic eight ball and carry on conversations with a fetus."

His smile grew bigger. "Is that so wrong?"

"You're such a woman!" she teased and he pulled her into him for a kiss. She rested her chin on his shoulder and looked at him for what seemed like an eternity.

"What?" he asked. "I can't help it. I'm excited."

"You're really happy aren't you." she said.

He nodded. Tears sparkled in his beautiful blue eyes.

She kissed him and nuzzled his cheek with her nose.

"First time in a long time I'm truly happy." he said. "Where I have something to look forward to. I mean, I'm going to be someones husband. I'm going to be someones father."

"Are you scared?" she asked.

"Shitless." he replied without hesitation. "You?"

She nodded, absentmindedly playing with the chain around his neck. "I know nothing about taking care of a baby." she admitted. "I love kids, don't get me wrong. But I have zero baby experience. Do you? Know anything about babies?"

"I know they eat, sleep and shit a lot." he said.

"You're not a baby. What's your excuse?" she teased.

"Funny." he smirked. "Honestly, I don't know the first thing about changing a shitty diaper or feeding a bottle to a kid."

"Me either. We're a great pair. Poor kid. Doesn't stand a chance."

"There's gotta be books, right? How to guides and stuff."

She giggled. "Don, I don't think they make a Baby Instructions for Dummies."

"There's gotta be something that teaches you the basics. A book or DVD. Web site even. What about classes? Parenting classes. I'm pretty sure I saw a flyer once at the Y talking about parenting classes. We could always go to those."

"And pre-natal classes." Sam added.

"What are those about?"

"Step by step through the later stages of the pregnancy. And the labour. Breathing techniques, labor positions, pain management, what do expect in the delivery room. Stuff like that."

"I don't even want to think about that. That scares me the most. Seeing that." he shuddered at the thought.

"You are so not bailing on me and leaving me alone while I'm in labor!"

"I'm sure Carmen would go in with you." he said.

"I'm sure she would. But you're the father and it was your sperm that planned a role in getting me in this condition so you're going to be there."

"I hear it's really gross." he said with a frown.

"Donnie you work around dead bodies every day." she reminded him.

"This is different. I bet you it's worse than a body in full de-comp."

"I doubt it's that bad. And where are we going to find time to go to all these classes?"

"We make time." he said matter of factly. "And now that I'm thinking about it, I don't want you taking any more of those meds you've been on since the attack. We go to the doctor and ask before you take anything else. Okay? When were you suppose to go and see her?"

"Friday. Elevan thirty. I'll have to call her tomorrow and tell her the reason for the visit is changed."

"I'll pick you up at the lab at eleven." he said.

"You're going to come with me?" she sounded genuinely touched.

"Why wouldn't I? Like you keep telling me, I am the father."

"Yes," she said and kissed him. "You are."

"But those meds? Please don't take anymore. What you've already taken could be enough to cause issues with you or the baby. I don't want there being any problems."

"Neither do I." she said and rested her head on his chest.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Are we going to tell people?" she asked.

"About which? Being engaged or having a baby?"

"Both."

"Something tells me they'll notice the ring on your finger." he said.

"True." she held up her left hand and turned it every which way and watched the diamonds sparkle.

"And I think we should wait before telling them about the baby. 'Til we talk to the doctor and make sure everything's okay. We can tell Carmen and Tim. Carmen won't leave us alone until we do tell her. And we can trust them not to say anything."

"And our families? I'll call my mom and dad after we see the doctor. What about you?"

He sighed heavily.

"You have to tell them, Donnie. This is a big thing. You're getting married and becoming a father. They're going to be grandparents."

"They don't deserve to be."

"That's besides the point. Don't you think they should at least meet me? And me them? And your brother."

"Samantha..."

"I'm going to be their daughter and sister in law," she reasoned. "I'm pregnant with their grandchild and niece or nephew."

"I know, sweetie. And you're right. They should meet you. I just need some time to digest all of this before I tell them and take you over there. All right?"

"Before we're married or the baby is born." she told him.

"I figured that much. And that's another thing. You wanna get married before or after the baby comes?"

"Before. Definitely before. Unless you want the kid having the last name Ross."

"Uh...no. Personally, I wanna be married by the end of the year."

"You do?"

He nodded. "That way I get a break when I file my income tax and get a bigger return."

"You're such an ass!" she scolded, but she was smiling.

"I'm joking. I just want to marry you, baby. I don't care where or how or when or whose there or not there."

"I like that idea. Being married before the new year. So I'm not too huge and I can still see my feet. You gonna tie my shoes for me when that happens? Rub my back when it gets sore and my ankles when they're all swollen? Run somewhere at two in the morning when I get a weird craving?"

"Short of actually carrying the baby and giving birth myself, I will do anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Okay. I want a nice small, quiet wedding with only a few people there. Danny and Erica , Carmen, Tim and my brother. And I want it on Christmas Eve. I want you to call up one of those judges that are always so good to you with warrants and ask one of them to do it."

"I can do that. Like I said, I just want to marry you. You sure you don't want some big church thing and wear a white dress and have a huge reception?"

"Donnie, listen to yourself. I'm pregnant. Out of wedlock. A white dress in a church?"

"Good point. You know, we have sinned huge."

"We are definitely going to hell." she agreed.

"It's a crowded place. At least we won't be lonely." he pushed her over onto her back gently and leaned over her and kissed her. It didn't take long for things to get intense and heated. "Feel like sinning some more?" he asked.

"Why not?" she replied and shoved him onto his back and climbed on top of him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the mattress above his head. "We can't possibly do anymore damage than's already been done."

"That's my girl." he said with a smile and then closed his eyes and groaned as she found his ear with her lips and tongue.

"Don't worry." she said, her lips on his collarbone. "I won't corrupt you too much."

* * *

Carmen tried Flack's cell phone for the tenth time in half an hour. Before that she'd called Sam's cell phone half a dozen times and the apartment phone at least five. All she got was no answer on the latter and voice mail on the other two. She was not impressed.

Speed grabbed her cell phone from her hand and shut it down before she attempted another call to any of the numbers. They were sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket and enjoying some quiet time. Just him, her, and her cell phone.

"They will call you when they feel like it." he assured her.

"I can't believe she hasn't called me yet!" Carmen huffed. "Flack was off three hours ago. She's obviously done the test by now."

"Maybe they don't have anything to tell you." Speed reasoned.

"Please. She is so pregnant."

"Well then maybe you should take the hint. They're busy."

"Doing what?"

Speed arched an eyebrow.

"Isn't that what got them in this predicament in the first place?" Carmen grumbled.

"Samantha or Flack will call you when they feel like that. Leave them alone."

Carmen crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "She should have called me." she said.

"She's busy." Speed stressed each word. Especially the last one.

"She can do that any time!"

"And she can call you anytime, too. Relax all ready and..." his words were cut off by the ringing of Carmen's cell phone.

"Gimme...gimme!" Carmen cried, motioning for him to hand it to her.

"You can't be serious." Speed said. "How old are you?"

"Give it to me!" she said and tore the phone out of his hands. "Devine." she answered.

"Why the hell have you been calling me so much?" Flack asked, clearly annoyed. "You stalking me or something?"

"Where's Sam?" she asked.

"She's sleeping."

"It's only eight o'clock!" Carmen exclaimed. "Wake her ass up!"

"She's tired, Carmen. The last three hours have been a little wild around here."

"I do not want to hear about your guys' crazy animal sex, okay? Tell me what happened."

"Well, we're getting married." he said.

"I told you she wouldn't say no! Congratulations, Flack."

"Thanks."

"And?"

"And what?" he asked.

"Don't be such a bastard. You know what!"

"Maybe Sam should tell you tomorrow." he suggested.

"What? No! You tell me! I won't be able to function if you don't tell me!"

"Just tell her!" Speed yelled. "So the world can start turning again."

Carmen elbowed him roughly in the stomach.

"You really want to know?" Flack asked.

"Don't do this." Carmen said.

"How bad do you want to know?"

"Flack, don't make me come over there and kill you." she warned.

"We only needed one test." he said.

"Okay. And?"

"And we're having a baby."

Carmen squealed so loud she nearly busted both Speed and Flack's ear drum. "Oh my God! That's amazing! I'm so happy for you guys!"

"What?" Flack asked. "I can't hear you now that I'm deaf."

"Jesus Christ woman!" Speed exclaimed, smacking the palm of his hand against his ear, trying to restore his hearing.

"Sorry!" she said. "I can't help it! That's fantastic news. I am so happy for you guys. Congratulations, Don. You must be so happy."

"It's growing on me." he said and she could tell he was smiling.

"She wakes up, you give her a big hug and a kiss for me." Carmen told him, tears welling in her eyes.

"I will." he said. "See ya tomorrow."

"See ya." Carmen hung up.

"Well?" Speed asked. "She got a bun in the oven or what?"

Carmen nodded. "Flack's so happy, Tim. You can hear it in his voice."

"Good. He deserves it."

"They both do. I think we should celebrate." she pushed the blanket off of her and stood up.

"Us? Why? We're not the pregnant ones."

She smiled and placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him as she straddled his lap. "Let's live vicariously through them." she suggested.

"That's a damn good idea." he agreed and grabbed her by the hips and turned and planted her on her back on the couch. "Best idea you've ever had." he declared and made short work of her jeans.

"Impatient are we?" she asked, as he peeled off her underwear.

"Let's see who the impatient one is in about ten minutes." he said and lowered his head between her thighs.

She moaned loudly and buried her fingers in his thick hair.

It only took five minutes.

**Once again, big big thankies to all of you R n R'ing. And to all of those adding me to their alerts. I know who you all are and welcome! I have become a big fan of plugging so please check out the following stories:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and What Ifs (collaboration with Madison Bellows)**

**Madison Bellows: What it Means and Brooklyn Bridges**

**laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**Believe me peeps, you will not be disappointed.**


	41. One long, sad step at a time

**One long, sad step at a time**

"As strong as you were  
Tender you go  
I'm watching you breathing for the last time  
A song for your heart  
But when it is quiet  
I know what it means  
I'll carry you home  
I'll carry you home

And they're all born pretty  
in New York City tonight  
and someones little girl  
was taken from the world tonight  
under the Stars and Stripes"

-Carry You Home, James Blunt

* * *

The front of the church was awash in color. Stunning arrangements of flowers in sunny yellow and vibrant orange and crisp white. There had been no doubt in their minds when the topic of flowers had come up that those three colors had to be prominent. It was one of the things that Flack had decided easily and quickly when Carmen and him at sat the kitchen table going through preparations with the funeral home and the head of St. Micheal's. He'd struggled with everything else. The mere mention of the word coffin made him feel sick to his stomach and never mind anything regarding burial or cremation. Thank God Sam had had the good sense a few years back to write a will and what she wanted done in the event of her eventual passing. Otherwise, he would have been a complete basket case and gone along with whatever idea someone tossed about.

It was a small funeral by NYPD standards, especially for someone killed in the line of duty. She'd reqeusted that in the event she died at work, there would be no one in dress uniform, no honor guard doing a twenty one gun salute and absolutely no procession through the streets that took place after most officer deaths. That was not Sam. She was not about pomp and circumstance in life and would not change after death. She was a simple girl who tried to live a simple, quiet life away from the craziness of the job. All that mattered to her was her husband and her kids and her 'family'. She didn't call them friends because to her, they were closer to her than any family could ever be.

The golden oak pews were barely half full. Just the way she would have wanted it. The people that mattered the most were there, along with guys that served under Flack there to pay their respects to their boss, and the top brass and Mayor Bloomberg. How he ever managed to be mayor and Gerrard and Sinclar hang in for that long, Carmen couldn't quite comprehend. And she was surprised that the mayor was even there when the paper strictly stressed that the funeral was for close friends and family only. Brass probably invited him, she thought, as she and Flack, her arm looped through his, took the long walk from the back of the church and down the aisle, feeling sympathetic eyes on them.

"Don't let them come near me." Flack whispered to Carmen, glancing over his shoulder at Sinclair and Gerrard. His tone reminded Carmen of a little boy that was scared of the monsters under his bed coming out to eat him at night.

"I won't." she assured him. She knew he was angry and hurt that Gerrard and Sinclair hadn't offered as much as an ounce of sorrow and did little more than make a thirty second joint phone call to say how sorry they were. And to tell him he was expected back at work in a month.

Off to the right of the altar was a large display board, resting on an easel covered in various sized personal photographs. Sam and Flack alone, with the kids at various ages, with members of the team. It had been a labor of love for Gus and Alexis getting that put together and they'd done a great job. Flack wanted to just ignore it and sit down. Last thing he felt ready for was looking at pictures of good times when he was still reeling from the worst event of his life. But Carmen practically yanked him off his feet, forcing him in that direction.

"Carmen..." he complained, as she began pointing out various pictures and he tried his damndest to look everywhere else. He shut himself off the best he could. He didn't want to look, didn't want to remember. He didn't even want to be there, going through that.

"Please Flack." she practcially begged after several minutes of battling wills with him. "You have to do this. Just say something. At least look. Don't let what you saw in the hospital be your last memory of her. Look at these pictures and remember how she was all these times. Please. I'm trying to help you but you keep shutting me out. You can't do that."

He cast a glance towards the display and felt his chest tighten. "Why are you doing this to me, Carmen?" he asked. "Don't do this to me."

"Because this is what Sam would have wanted. She doesn't want you to shut down and push everyone away. She wants you to be happy and remember the good times. And these pictures are the best moments of her life."

"Be happy? She wants me to be happy?" Flack shook his head. "You weren't there, Carmen. You didn't see her like that. You didn't have to make the decision I did and then sit there while she died. You weren't there. You have no idea."

"Don't you think I know that, Flack? I wanted to be there so badly. But the airline...it's killing me that I couldn't be there and say goodbye or help you decide things. But I made a promise to her that I would take care of you and those kids. She wanted you to be happy and live your life after she was gone. And these pictures are the memories she wants you to have. All these are pictures she set aside in case something like this happened. She did that for a reason and I want you to look at them. Not for me. For yourself. For Sam. Please, Don. Just look."

He sighed heavily and took a step closer to the display to have a look. Carmen knew it was hard for him. That he was suffering and weak. But she also knew this was good for him. To see the happier times. To remember them.

"If I hadn't have taken her off the machines, she'd still be here." he said quietly, moist blue eyes taking in the various photos.

"No. She wouldn't." Carmen told him, looking at a photo of herself, Sam and Alexis taken at last year's staff Christmas party. Smiling and happy. She wondered if either she or Alexis would ever smile like that again. "You'd have her body, Don, but not her and everything that made her who she was. You did the right thing. She wouldn't have wanted to live like that."

"Adam's never going to forgive me." Flack said.

"He will. He's just hurting, Don. He's lost the one person he could always count on to be there for him. He's in a lot of pain. But he'll realize that you based your decision on lvoe and what Sam would have wanted."

He nodded.

"You did the right thing, Don." she assured him. "You made the right choice. Sam would not have wanted to live like that. She wouldn't have wanted you or the kids to see her like that. You and those kids were her everything. You'll never know how much she loved all of you. Especially you. From the moment she met you, you were her entire world."

He nodded. A picture captured his attention and he reached out and took it off the board to get a closer look. Carmen saw the tears fill his eyes and she laid a hand on his arm for support and comfort. It was a picture of Sam in a yellow tank top and denim shorts, crouched down in the water at the beach in Far Rockaway. She was holding Kieran, only months old at that time and in just a diaper and a sun hat, his tiny bare feet in the water.

"First time she'd ever been to the beach in Far Rockaway." Flack said, looking down at the picture. "Can you believe that? From New York and she'd never been there? Especially loving the water as much as she did. It was the first time since I've been on the job that I ever took vacation time. So we went to the beach. She was determined that Kieran would love the water."

"And did he?" Carmen asked, a soft smile on her lips.

"He did. He kept kicking his feet and it was the first time we heard him laugh. This real loud, ear piercing kind of shriek and this belly laugh. He's so much like her, Carmen. He's so smart and he likes all the same things she did."

"Except he looks just like you. They all do."

"Sam always kept teasing me that the only reason she married me was so she could have kids with dark hair and blue eyes."

He put the picture back and pointed to another one. This time of the two of them in shorts and t-shirts and ball caps at the Statue of Liberty. "That was after she got attacked at that house on the upper west side," he told Carmen. "We did all this tourist stuff. We were the ones for New York yet we asked some guy visiting from Germany to take our picture. And that one..." he pointed to yet another photo. Sam sitting on the living room floor with Kieran and the twins, in a mountain of wrapping paper.

"Twins first Christmas?" Carmen asked.

He nodded. "They were eight months old and she was trying to get them interested in the presents but all they cared about was empty boxes and wrapping paper. She was worse than the kids, though when it came to Christmas. She was like a kid. She was the one who made it fun for everyone else. She couldn't sleep Christmas eve she was so geared up. She kept buying all these gifts for people and we kept running out of places to hide them. And if you bought her anything, you had to lock it up somewhere because she'd snoop."

Carmen laughed.

"Drove me nuts." he declared. His eyes fell on a picture near the top of the display.

Sam and all the kids sitting on the grass together at the park by their house. Mikayla in her lap and the boys gathered around in their soccer gear. It had been taken only a week before she died. He removed the picture and looked at it closer. Tears sparkled in his eyes.

"You ever think ten years ago she'd ever be a soccer mom driving a Volvo SUV?" Flack asked.

"Nope. She didn't seem like the type at all. With her Posh Spice hair cut and her piercings and tattoos. But she embraced motherhood. She was born to be a mother."

"She was an amazing mother, Carmen. She did better than I thought she would the first time around. I thought for sure she'd be a basket case every time the kid got a cold or fell down. She was a great, great mother. And I was proud of her and respected her so much for that."

He replaced the picture. Noticed one taken on their wedding night in Judge Reynolds' chambers. Nine at night, Christmas Eve. Speed had taken that picture just after they signed the certificate. Flack was kissing her cheek and his hand was on her pregnant stomach. She'd been only five months yet had looked seven much to her dismay.

He'd seen enough. He turned away. It was hurting too much to continue looking. He went and sat in the front pew.

Carmen joined him. "I could always tell she was going to be a great mother." she said. "You should have seen her when we went to Coney Island."

"What happened? She try and kidnap someones baby?"

Carmen laughed. "Not quite. She was just amazing with every kid she came across. She had these unbelievable maternal instincts. I realized then that she made a good mom."

"You should have heard her the time Kieran peed on her when he fist came home. She went to change him and I warned her to be careful and he peed all over her. The language that came out of her mouth."

"I can imagine. I know it was a bit rough on both of you. First time parenting."

"Sam used to check on him every ten minutes to make sure he was still breathing. Hell, she used to check if I was breathing if she thought I was too quiet while I was sleeping. Once, she woke me up 'cause she was checking my pulse."

"Hey, at least she cared."

"Cared?" he laughed. "I think she was hoping I was dead to cash in on my pension and buy herself some shoes and designer clothes."

Carmen laughed as well. "She had to make it look natural, you know."

"She had this paranoia that the surgeon missed something after the bombing and that I'd just up and die in my sleep. Wishful thinking on her part, I guess. And really, she was enough most days to give me a heart attack or a stroke."

"I used to get a kick out of the stupid things she'd do."

"I used to wonder how the hell a woman with that amazing of a brain could do some dumb things."

"We all have our moments." Carmen reasoned. "Sam just seemed to have them more than anyone. Made me realize she was human."

"This one time, she wanted to make microwave popcorn and nearly blew the microwave up. She put the timer on twenty five minutes instead of two and half and went to watch t.v. and forgot all about it. Took a week to get the stink out of the apartment."

"Seriously?" Carmen giggled. "Only Sam could do that."

"This other time, she left the water running in the tub, with the plug in and for some reason went out on the balcony and got doing other things and we had a swimming pool in the bathroom by the time she finally remembered the water was on. I swear, Carmen, all that education and sometimes her brain was in her ass."

"I will never forget that night in the bar when she was dancing on the table and Danny was shoving money down her skirt!" Carmen couldn't help but laugh out loud, which got a few stares from people who thought it was inappropriate.

"And then telling her she'd make a good stripper." Flack shook his head at the memory. "Then she let loose about her and that roommate of hers and you two were doing this crazy stuff on the dance floor..."

"And you and Speed thought we'd gone to the bathroom to have sex!"

"Unfortunately for us, you didn't."

"Hey, you ended up gettin' your rocks off from what I remember."

He nodded, a broad smile on his tired face. "I think that's when Kieran was conceived. Poor kid. We never did figure out when it actually happened, but that was Sam's guess. Can you imagine? Our first born conceived like that? That would give him a serious complex."

"He's a good kid, Don. You and Sam did a good job with all your kids. You know that."

He nodded. "It was all Sam, Carmen. She did all the hard work. I just handed over my pay and she made sure everything was taken care of and the kids had what they needed. We weren't rich or anything, but we took care of them the best we could. They never went without. She made sure of that. She made sure of a lot of things. It's gonna be hard without her."

Carmen smiled understandingly. "It'll be okay, Don. You'll make it. I promise you, you will make it through this."

"I know...I have to, right? For them? They're all I have left of her."

"You have memories, Don." Carmen reminded him. "A lot of good, wonderful memories."

He nodded. "Look, I know that it was probably awkward for you. Seeing Speed again."

"I was a little surprised." she said. That was a tremendous understatement. "Considering the last time we saw him you kicked the crap out of him."

"As much as it still hurts to think about him and Sam..." Flack sighed heavily. He refused to disrespect his wife by even speaking the words. "They were friends before anything else and I asked him to come because I know that it's what she would have wanted."

"You don't have to defend your decisions to me, Flack." Carmen told him.

"Still hurts like a bitch sometimes. When I think that the twins could have been..."

"Well they aren't." Carmen reminded him. "And a lot of us were hurt by what happened."

He stared down at his wedding band as he twirled it around his finger over and over again. "You think she loved him?" he asked.

"What? No. She loved you, Don. Only you. She regretted it as soon as she did it. She knew she'd made a mistake. She was lonely and you and her where going through some rough times and she wanted to feel loved and he gave her that. And as far as he goes...I have no idea what he was thinking or what was going through his head."

"He wasn't thinking. At least not with the head on his shoulders."

"It's time for you to let it go, Don." she said gently.

He sighed. "It's time for a lot of things."

* * *

Gus just couldn't sit there and wallow in her own grief when Flack and Carmen were sitting up there trying so hard to deal with their own sorrow and failing miserably at it. She'd never been the type to just sit idly by and watch other people suffering. She excused herself from where she sat in the third pew back with Alexis and Stella and journeyed to the front of the church.

"Hi guys." she said, standing in front of them, nervously wringing a Kleenex in her hands. The nerves a by product of struggling to hold in the overwhelming sorrow in order to be strong for everyone else. Especially her husband. Adam had lost his big sister. His protector and confident. And he'd been going through sheer hell since her death. A lot of rage and guilt and deep, dark depression.

"Hey." Carmen said, as she and Flack stood up. She hugged Gus tightly. "How are you?" she asked, holding Gus out at arms length.

"I'm... coping. I would have been around a lot more and called a lot more but things have been so difficult with work and with Adam and..."

Carmen laid a hand on the side of her friend's face. "You don't have to defend yourself to us." she assured Gus.

"How are you?" Gus asked Flack.

He managed a smile and a nod. "Not good." he admitted and his eyes filled with tears again.

"I am so sorry!" Gus cried and threw her arms around him. Clutching him tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder. "I am sorry, Don. This should never have happened. Not to you and those beautiful kids. Not to Sam. I am so sorry."

"Thank you." he said and rubbed her back comfortingly. "It's all right, Gus."

"It's like a bad dream. I keep hoping I'm going to wake up and it'll all have been a dream. That she'll come knocking at the door with all these kids in tow frantically searching for a sitter on a Saturday afternoon. Or the phone will ring and when I answer I hear her voice. I just keep hoping that none of this happened."

"Me, too." Flack said. "Me, too."

Gus let go of him and pulled away and wiped at her eyes. "I just..." she glanced over her shoulder at all the pictures on display. "Of all people." she said in disbelief.

Alexis and Stella came over. The tall, slender red head that had become Hawkes' wife a little over five years ago embraced Flack tightly and offered her condolences for what seemed like a millionth time since the shooting and kissed both of his cheeks softly.

"How are the kids?" she asked, brushing away her tears. "They didn't come today?"

"I just didn't think they needed to be here." Flack said. "And the boys are dealing with things in their own ways. And Mikalya...she's too little. She doesn't have the slightest clue what's going on. Cries for mommy all the time, though."

"If there's anything you need, please call me or Sheldon." Alexis pleaded. "We're here for you, Don."

"Thank you." he said. And turned to look at Stella. One of his oldest and dearest friends. Who he'd sat with that day in the hospital and listened to her re-count her ordeal with Frankie Mala. Who he had supported and backed no matter what all the years they worked together. And now he could barely stand breathing the same air as her. Because he had trusted her to protect one of the most important things in his life and she'd failed miserably.

"Don." Stella said simply, tears sparkling in her eyes.

He didn't respond.

"I am so sorry." she whispered and reached for him.

He stepped back and turned and went back to his seat.

"He's not ready, Stella." Carmen said to her. "He's just really, really angry right now. He's not ready."

"Will you tell him that when he is ready, I'll be waiting?" Stella asked hopefully.

Carmen just nodded. She saw a familiar face over looking at the photos and excused herself. "Mr Moran?" she asked as she approached.

He turned away from the photos and smiled. "Just Gavin." he said. "Carmen, right?"

She nodded. "Thank you for coming. Don will be glad to see you again."

"Had to be here to support Donnie." Moran told her. "So..." he turned back to the pictures. "This is Donald Flack Jr's other half. She's a beautiful girl."

"She is." Carmen agreed. "Picture in the paper didn't do her any justice."

"No. It didn't." he said with a nod. "How is he?"

"Not good." Carmen admitted. "I could really use your help with him."

"What would you like me to do?"

"Can we talk after the funeral. There's a wake at Flack's house and you're more than welcome to come. We can talk there."

"All right." he said. "Anything for Donnie. His old man didn't show?"

Carmen shook her head. "I don't think he really expected him too."

Moran sighed. "That's a goddamn shame." he said sadly.

Father O'Connor, the head priest of St. Michael's came up to them discreetly and told them they would be starting now. Then he went and delivered the same news to Flack.

"We'll talk later." Moran assured Carmen, squeezing her arm and escorting her to her seat beside Flack before shaking hands with the detective and taking a seat in the pew behind them beside Rick. He leaned forward, laid a hand on Flack's shoulder. "Gonna be okay, son." he assured him.

* * *

Father O'Connor requested that the congregation stand and the strains of James Blunt's Carry You Home began to waft through the church. Flack had asked that that song be used. It had always been one of Sam's favorites even though it was nearly a decade old now. It had been played at the service for Clint two years ago at the request of the children he'd raised as his own. And Flack had felt she would have liked the idea of doing the same for her.

The gleaming coffin was brought down the long aisle. Carmen grabbed a hold of Flack's hand and held it tightly. He was staring straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular but knowing if he looked at what was going on, his entire wall would come crashing down. And he wasn't ready for that. After the coffin was placed at the foot of the alter, Danny, already in tears, slipped into the pew beside Flack, followed by Adam. Mac, Hawkes, Scagnetti and Speed came to the opposite end of the pew to sit down. Speed found himself beside Carmen.

She looked at him. Tears pooling in her eyes. Lower lip trembling.

He smiled gently, reassuringly.

"Please be seated." Father O'Connor instructed.

There was loud rustling as people took to their seats.

"We are here today, on this bright, lovely afternoon, with heavy hearts." Father O'Connor began in his Irish accent. "We are united in grief and sorrow as we prepare to celebrate the life and mourn the death of Samantha Flack. A much loved and cherished wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend, who at such a tender age, touched so many in so many ways. Who brightened the lives of many and helped those in pain and in need of solace and comfort. Who faced great adversity with dignity and grace. Who loved and was loved. Taken from us so suddenly and tragically with no chance for goodbye. Gone before her time and leaving us with profound sadness that seems impossible to bear."

Danny sniffled noisily. Adam handed him a handful of tissue he'd stuffed in the inside pocket of his suit jacket before he left the house.

"Thanks." Danny whispered and removed his glasses to dry his eyes.

"Yet, it is at this time," the priest continued. "at this time of tremendous pain and anger at the perpetrator of this unspeakable crime, that I urge you all to forgive. As God forgave those who crucified his only son. In great tragedy there must be forgiveness. Otherwise, our lives will not go on as our loved ones wish. We feel terrible anger and pain, but remember it is God's will that these things happen. It is not our place to question the will of our Lord, only accept and hope that one day it will become known to us the meaning behind his actions. We must find it in our hearts to forgive those that committed this horrible crime."

Flack snorted and shook his head. No way, he thought, his jaw tightening. Never gonna happen. Only way that's going to happen is if I get a hold of whoever did this and put them in the ground.

Danny just stared straight ahead. Forgiveness my ass, he thought. All I want is to find the guy and put a bullet between his eyes.

Carmen glanced up at the heavens. Prayed to God and Sam to give her the strength to be brave enough to forgive when all she really wanted was to seek out her own brand of justice.

"At this time," Father O' Connor said. "I ask Chief Brigham Sinclair to come and read for us the prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel, patron saint of police officers."

"You have got to be kidding me." Flack mumbled to Carmen when Sinclair ambled up to the podium. "This wasn't suppose to happen."

"Better not turn this into a political event." Speed muttered. "Better make it short and sweet."

Sinclair fixed his tie and cleared his throat and read from a small sheet of paper in his hands. "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:  
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."

"Amen." the congregation echoed. And breathed a sigh of relief that when he returned to his seat.

* * *

"I knew both Samantha and Don as more than police officers bravely and unselfishly serving our beloved city." Father O'Connor began once again. "I knew them as a couple very much in love with a beautiful family. Four healthy children that I was honored to baptize in this very church. They would bring their children here on Sundays when their schedules permitted. And as all f you know, it is few and far between when that happens. I can tell you, in conversations that I had with Samantha, that she was a warm, intelligent, humorous and beautiful woman. She had eyes that mesmerized and a contagious laugh. She could make anyone smile. She was a loving and caring wife and a phenomenal mother. Seeing her with her children, I was awed at the depth of patience and compassion and love she had for her family. A family that now must face life without the source of such love and compassion and patience and who will need our help to get through this trying time. I ask that you keep Don and his children in your hearts and that you pray that God gives them comfort in their grief and the courage they will need to go on. A husband has lost his wife and children have lost their mother and the shock of that loss is severe."

At the mention of his children, that wall that Flack had fought so hard to keep up came crumbling down. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he cried.

Danny, shedding tears of his own, wrapped his arm around his best friend's shoulders and pulled him close into him, holding him tightly and comfortingly. Moran leaned forward and laid a hand on Flack's shoulder.

Brushing away her tears, Carmen reached out and rubbed Flack's back soothingly.

"Samantha also talked fondly of her little brother Adam," Father O'Connor continued. "Peanut, as she liked to call him..."

Adam choked on a sob. Gus moved up to the seat beside him and gathered him into her arms.

"As children they survived insurmountable odds and became adults of great integrity, compassion and character." the priest said. "They were not just siblings but best friends who relied on each other and trusted each other and supported each other. She talked of how proud she was at the man he had become and at all he achieved. And of how much she loved him."

Adam sobbed into Gus' shoulder.

"We remember that even though we can not see her or hear her, Samantha is all around us. Guiding us and lighting the way. She will continue to love us and will watch over us all. The loss is great, the pain severe, but she would want us to smile and remember the fun and happy times you all shared with her. And I promise all of you in this moment of raw grief, that you will be able to go on and live your lies and think of her without tears and feeling sorrowful. And that is what she would want. I ask you all now to bow your heads for a moment of silence for Samantha and for all of our loved ones we have lost."

* * *

Flack had wanted to speak. He had prepared something to say just for that moment. But when the time came, he was in no shape to get up in front of one person let alone half a congregation. So Moran offered to it and took the lovingly written words from the younger man's trembling hands and stepped up to the podium.

"I'm Gavin Moran," he began. "I was Don's training officer many years ago and he's like a son to me and I feel humbled and honored to be up here right now. But please bear with me. I am not much of a public speaker.

When I first met Samantha, I knew there was something special about her. It wasn't the fact that she was some feisty little Brooklyn girl. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the compassion and faith she had in every single human being in this world. From the second I laid eyes on her, I fell in love. She had a way of making you want to protect her and cherish her, despite the fact she made it pretty clear to everyone that she didn't need protecting.

It cuts me up inside to know that she's not going to be there when I get home and it breaks my heart because I gave her everything I had and now I can't get that back. I love her in ways I can't describe. It kills me to just thinking about how I'm never going to see that amazing smile of hers and the way her nose crinkled when she laughed.

She was a wonderful wife. She was always there listening when I needed someone. She was the one that held everything together when I couldn't and I'm going to miss that. I'm going to miss everything about her. But I know she's going to be up there staring down at me and our kids and making sure we're okay. She's our guardian angel.

I'll always remember the way she used to kiss our kids before bed. A kiss on each cheek and then the forehead. Her own special way of showing she loved them.

To Samantha, the badge was more than something to just carry around. To her it was an honor, an oath to protect and serve, something she did justice to every single ay of her life. Whether it was on the job or not, she always went that extra mile even though she didn't have to.

She was the best friend I ever had and I'm going to miss her with every ounce of my being. But I find solace in the fact I know she's up there watching over all of us. Right now she's probably up there frowning at us for wearing black and looking sad. I'm sorry, baby, but it's hard to find joy when a part of your soul is taken away from you. I love you, Samantha. I always have and I always will."

* * *

Carmen stood nervously at the wooden podium, hands shaking.

"I guess I never thought I'd be up here doing this. So I'm not sure where to start. There were so many things about her, I guess I don't think I can get them all down on paper.

Sam was a loving mother, a strong dependable wife and a fantastic friend and above all one of the best cops you'd ever meet. She had integrity and a personal strength that held no bounds.

Over the course of her life Sam over came a lot of personal trials that people should never have to face and at the end of it, she came with a bright smile and wisecrack or two that would have you in stitches for hours.

She always had the power to make me laugh even in the direst of situations. She was the strong one, the person who you could rely, the person who could wipe away your tears in an instant…she just had that power. I could never understand how she remained so positive after everything we saw day after day, but it was part of who she was, she took the good with the bad and you could always depend on her to be there when you needed her the most, even after a double shift, when we were both exhausted, she was still there, ready to listen."

Carmen paused as she choked up, barely able to see through the tears that flooded her eyes, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry..." she said to the congregation and struggled to compose herself.

Speed looked over his shoulder at Rick. The sonofabitch wasn't even paying attention. He was the only dry eye in the house and Speed now knew why. The guy was surfing the 'net on his PDA. In the middle of a funeral for his wife's best friend while his wife was nearly inconsolable in front of everyone. He wanted to knock the shit out the guy and shove that PDA either down his throat or up his ass.

Rick looked up as he sensed someone looking at him and stared Speed dead in the eye. "What?" he asked.

"You know what..." Speed bit his tongue. He couldn't and wouldn't do that to Flack. Cause a scene. He'd hurt the guy badly enough in the past and Speed couldn't disrespect Flack or Sam by causing a thing. "Never mind." he said and turned around with a heavy sigh and decided the ball was in his court. He got to his feet.

Carmen looked up as she saw him coming towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest.

He stepped beside her, smiled gently and laid a hand on the small of her back for comfort. "It's okay..." he said quietly. "Go on."

She smiled gratefully, nodded confidently and looked back down at the paper in her hands, that hand on her back the only source of strength she needed. Because of who it was coming from. The only man she'd ever truly loved. And would always love.

"One of my fondest memories of Sam is back in the early days just sitting at my place," she continued. "eating pink sprinkled donuts in our pyjamas trying to tempt her into calling Flack. I can still remember dialling his number and tossed the phone to her and the look of absolute horror on her face when he answered, me shouting in the background "she loves you."

Oh man I nearly ended up with that cell phone embedded in my forehead. She was stubborn I'll give her that.

You would not believe the celebration we had when her and Flack had finally decided to get it together. I'd never been happier for two people. From the beginning you could tell that they were two halves of the same soul, and despite the tempestuous parts and the hard times you knew just by looking into her eyes that this was the real deal.

The thing I loved about Sam was the fact she was tough, dynamic and above all Sam Flack was always and would always be a fighter and above all a survivor. A trait I know she has passed on to each and everyone of us today, because we will all get through this.

Sam's probably sitting up there now next to Clint, scowling at us all looking so sad. It is sad, and it damn well hurts that we all lost someone so close to us. A mother, a wife, a friend, a sister, someone we all loved, but Sam would want us to push on to carry on with our lives, be strong for one another just like she was for all of us whenever we needed it.

I think it's safe to say that she's watching over us all right now. A guardian angel in the hearts of everyone of us. Thank you."

"You okay?" Speed asked her.

She nodded. "Thank you, Tim."

He smiled and winked and escorted her back to her seat.

* * *

"And now," Father O'Connor spoke. "As we prepare to say goodbye to Samantha, I ask God the Holy Father to prepare a place for his precious daughter in his kingdom and to grant her everlasting peace and love."

He stepped to the casket and blessed it with incense.

"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. We leave this world as we once entered it. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

The pallbearers carried the coffin down the aisle as Flack, with Danny and Carmen on either side of hi, their arms linked with his, followed behind.

There was only one more step to go.

**Great big thankies to all of you that are R n R'ing. It is greatly appreciated!! Hope y'all are getting your mail!! Once again, I am plugging away.**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and her new CSI:Miami fic Finding Kate**

**Madison Bellows: What it Means and Brooklyn Bridges and her collaboration with Aphina What Ifs**

**laplandgurl: Magnet for Trouble**

**Check them out peeps!! Amazing stuff!!**


	42. All day sickness

**All day sickness**

"She wants to dress me in pink, paint my bedroom blue  
And I just laugh to myself, cause only I know the truth  
This love is my only emotion  
Haven't learned any fear any pain  
It's kind of funny with all this commotion  
I guess they've got me, to blame  
They don't even know my name  
They don't even know my name"  
-My Name, George Canyon

* * *

It was like a nasty hangover times a hundred. No. Times a million. An overwhelming, almost terrifying urge to throw up the moment she woke to the sound of the alarm clock at seven in the morning. Not even a minute had passed and she was scrambling out of bed and running for the washroom in just a t-shirt, one hand on her queasy stomach, the other clamped over her mouth. The sound of her repetitive, violent and forceful vomiting was what actually woke Flack up. He'd slept through the alarm, unusual for him, but there was no chance of in hell of sleeping through the sound of her throwing up that bad. He lay there for a couple minutes, an arm over his eyes, waiting for her to come back into the bedroom. When several minutes passed and the sounds continued and worry gnawed relentlessly at him, he climbed out of bed, slipped into a pair of sweats and headed for the bathroom.

He stood in the doorway, watching helplessly as she knelt in front of the toilet, her cheek resting on the cold porcelain, her face a ghostly white. Tears spilling down her cheeks. He stepped into the room and wet a face cloth with cold water and sat down alongside of her, gently wiping her forehead and her cheeks and the back of her neck.

"I want to die..." she moaned. "I just want to curl up right here and die. And if you dare even say it's okay, I will punch you out."

"I'll keep my mouth shut." Flack promised.

"Good...oh God..." she leaned into the toilet and threw up again. "This isn't normal...this can't be normal..."

"Just try and relax, baby." he continued pressing the cold face cloth to her skin, rubbing her back soothingly with his other hand. "I know it's hard to do, but you need to take it easy. Babies can feel the stress."

She lifted her head to look at him, an eyebrow arched. "Where'd you hear that?" she asked.

He shrugged."Probably saw it on t.v. or something. Want a drink of water or something?"

She nodded.

"You know," Flack said as he got to his feet and filled a plastic cup at the sink. "All the drunken stupors you've had and all the hangovers, you'd think you'd be used to the puking."

"So not the same thing...so different...this is worse...much worse."

After the seemingly endless waves of nausea finally passed, she leaned back against the tub, the face cloth pressed to her forehead.

"You need to call the doctor." Flack told her and handed her the water.

"Office doesn't open until nine. And she'll probably just forward me to an OB/GYN and then we'll have to wait to get in there."

"Well tell her how sick you are and that you need to see one right away. 'Cause it can't be normal puking as much as you have in the last five days. Can't be. You keep puking like that, you're gonna loose weight. And trust me, sweetie, you loose weight and you'll be invisible."

"Very funny." she groaned and sipped the water.

"Want me to call you in sick? Give it another day? I can tell Mac you're just not up to it."

"I'll be okay." she said. "Once it passes I should be fine and..." she grimaced, moved to the toilet once again.

He sighed. "I wish there was something I could do." he told her.

"Oh, you've done enough." she informed him.

He frowned. "Hey, I only contributed fifty percent. And from what I remember you've been a willing participant each and every time."

"You contributed the evil DNA." Sam declared and rested her forehead on the ledge of the toilet.

"Why don't you take a bath or a shower and I'll make you something to eat." he offered.

The sheer mention of food was enough to turn her stomach.

"You have to eat something." he insisted. "Or at least try to. Not good for the baby if you don't eat."

"I know, but..." she groaned and leaned into the toilet again, waving for him to just get out of the room. "Just leave me alone." she grumbled.

"Shoulda thought about telling me that a couple months ago."

She flipped him the middle finger.

He just chuckled and left the room.

* * *

She emerged from the bathroom forty five minutes later and joined him in the kitchen. Her hair still damp from her shower and wearing a pair of loose fitting grey dress pants and a simple, soft pink blouse with three quarter length sleeves and a slight touch of makeup on her pale, weary face. A hand resting on her queasy stomach and a grimace on her face as she slowly lowered herself into the chair across from him at the table where he sipped coffee, still in his sweats and a t-shirt.

"You okay?" Flack asked gently, even though one look at her told him she was anything but.

"I think so." she sighed lightly. "But I can't take months and months of this, Donnie."

"I know. Which is why we are going to find out ways to make it more tolerable for you and ask the doctor if there's anything you can take to make the nausea go away. Or at least help it. Okay?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry." she said meekly.

"For what, sweetie?"

She shrugged.

"It happens. Can't help it. If you get sick, you get sick." he stood up and came around the table and kissed the top of her head. "Lots of people get sick. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Especially in your situation."

He went and warmed up a glass of milk in the microwave and prepared her a piece of dry toast and sat both in front of her. "Here," he said and returned to his seat. "Read on the 'net last night that warm milk and dry toast settles the stomach."

"So that's what you were doing at three in the morning." she nibbled at the toast half heartedly. "I felt you get out of bed and then heard you close the door. You were gone for like two hours. Here it was because you were surfing the internet. Looking at all that porn again?"

"Why do I need to look at that shit when I can look at your naked body whenever I want for as long as I want?" he asked.

She smiled. "Very, very good answer."

"I just couldn't sleep. Too excited, I guess. I mean, engaged and find out you're having a baby all in one day? Pretty surreal. So I thought I'd do some research."

"About?" she forced herself to swallow a bite of toast and washed it down the rest of the way with a swig of milk.

"What we're in store for over the next several months. I got a list of books we can buy at Barnes and Noble in mid-town." he reached under the paper and pulled out a piece of computer paper and held it out to her.

Sam took the paper. Her eyes widening as she saw the length of the list. "There's like twenty-five books on here." she said incredulously.

"Figured the better prepared we were, the better we'd do." he reasoned.

"Don, we don't need two dozen books on parenting and pregnancy. I can see one or two or even three, but this many? You've even got books on here about toilet training and weaning kids off of a bottle. You planning on toilet training a new born? Making it drink from a cup?"

"No...like I said I figured the more prepared we are..."

"You are seriously mental." she declared. "A couple of these I can see actually buying. Like this What to Expect When You're Expecting. That would be a good one to have."

"Good. Glad you said that. 'Cause I called them and ordered a copy and it'll be in on Friday. Just in time to see the doctor."

She laughed and shook her head. "You are way too into this."

"Hey, we're going to be parents. I'm going to be a father. How can I not be?"

Sam smiled. How could she not? He was like this little kid on Christmas morning dying to open the biggest and best present under the tree. To be able to see the softer, more compassionate and tender side to a man that was usually so hot headed and snarky and often arrogant was a joy and a privilege all in itself.

"You must be excited." he said. "You're going to be a mom."

"I'd be more excited if I wasn't feeling so sick." she sighed and fought to get the last of the toast and the milk down."

"You have to eat, Samantha." Flack told her, concern in his eyes and in his voice. "Not good for you or the baby if you don't eat."

"I know...I know. But how do you eat when all you want to do is throw up all the time?"

"Like I said, we'll talk to the doctor. I want you to phone her as soon as you get to the lab."

"I will." she promised. "And speaking of the lab..." she glanced over at the clock on the microwave. "We are going to be majorly late."

"I called my duty captain and Mac and told them we'd be a little late. That you weren't feeling well this morning. Said it was bad nerves 'cause you're all freaked about coming back to work. They said no problem and to take our time."

She smiled brightly. "God I love you," she said.

"I know." he smiled and got up and rinsed out his mug. He stood behind her and kissed the top of her head. "I'm gonna go and get ready. You'll be okay?"

She nodded. "I promise I won't puke on the floor. I know where the sink is."

"Everything's going to be okay." he assured her, his hands on her slender shoulders as he kissed her cheek. "Trust me."

She smiled and watched him as he left the room. Knowing she could trust him completely. And that everything was going to be okay.

It had been a long time since she'd felt that confident about anything.

* * *

"You're what?" Adam asked, as he stood across the table from his sister in the lay out room.

"Getting married." she repeated for the third time in as many minutes.

"To who?"

Samantha sighed and rubbed at her pounding temples. "I know this is probably a little bit of a shock to you."

"Ya think?" Adam asked and went back to work on the articles of clothing laid out in front of him. He was on night shift. Or was suppose to be. His shift was scheduled to end at eight and at nine thirty he still found himself going strong with no signs of stopping and barely keeping himself awake or functioning with shots of espresso and extra large coffees.

As much as Sam knew her brother was overworked and looked as if he could sleep for an entire week straight, she was glad that his shift had been extended and that she'd been late arriving at the lab. It meant that everyone else was out in the field and she was able to deliver the news to Adam first. Helped too that Mac insisted on keeping her solely in the lab for a week when he'd heard how ill she was. It was important that her brother be the first to know. Well, maybe the third considering Flack had told Carmen and Speed the night before. But it had been essential to her to get to Adam before anyone else there found out and told him before she had the chance to.

"Adam..." she choose her words carefully. "You're my brother and I love you more than life. You know that."

He nodded.

"But I need you to accept this. It's very important to me that you give me and Don your blessing."

"Does it mean you won't go through with it if I don't?" Adam asked.

Samantha didn't respond.

"I just don't think you're ready to be getting married." Adam told her. "And it's nothing against Flack. As much as I wish you had have picked someone I didn't have to work with on a regular basis, this has nothing to do with him. I just don't think you're ready to marry anyone."

"I am ready." she said. "I've never been more ready."

"So soon after what happened with Zack? You were with the guy for a long time and he screwed you over big time and I can't believe you got over all that so quickly."

"I'm not over it." she said. "I'm still dealing with it. But this has nothing to do with that sick sonofabitch and everything to do with the fact that I'm in love and I've met the man of my dreams and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And it would mean the world to me if you would just say you love me and accept this."

"I do love you, Sammie. But accept it?" Adam shook his head. "You call mom and Sarge and tell them?"

"Not yet."

Adam sighed.

"I wanted to tell you first." she reasoned. "I didn't want mom with her big mouth calling you and telling you before I got the chance."

"How ya think Sarge is gonna react?"

"Probably throw a fit. But that's to be expected. He still thinks I'm thirteen."

"Sometimes you act like it." Adam mumbled.

Sam put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"I said sometimes you act like it." Adam replied. "You married? Poor Flack. Guy's life will be a nightmare."

"I want you to accept this Adam." Sam said sternly. "You're going to have to. It's happening whether you like it or not. And it's happening soon."

He frowned. "How soon is soon?" he asked.

"Three months."

Adam dropped the tweezers he had in his hands onto the floor and he looked at her with wide, disbelieving blue eyes. "Why so soon?" he asked, bending down under the table to retrieve the tweezers.

"We just wanted to do it by the end of the year." she said. "And because there's a chance I might be pregnant."

The top of Adam's head collided with the underside of the table with a loud thunk. The announcement of that little piece of news startling him so much that he hadn't cleared the table in time to jump up and give her shit.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, rushing to his side as he slowly got to his feet, his face beat red, his hand massaging the top of his head. She searched through the mess of curls on her brother's head and found the beginnings of a nasty bump.

"I'm fine..." he assured her through gritted teeth. "Just...fine...why...why'd you have to tell me this at work?"

"I just figured it was as good a time as any. No one's around. Eavesdropping."

"And what do you mean there's a chance. You either are or you aren't."

"I took a home test yesterday and it came back positive and..."

"So you are then."

"We want to go to the doctor and have it confirmed before we started telling everyone." she said.

"So why are you telling me than?" Adam asked.

Sam frowned. "Because I love you and your my brother and you have a right to know before anyone." she replied matter of factly.

"Please tell me you're not getting married because you're pregnant!" Adam looked horrfied at the thought.

"No! He had already bought the ring before we took the test. This isn't going to be a shot gun wedding."

"Might be when Sarge finds out. He'll be bringing his shot gun when he hears all this."

"He won't be bringing anything anywhere." Sam said. "We're not inviting a lot of people. Don' getting a judge he knows to marry us in his chambers and we only want you, Danny and Erica and Carmen and Tim there."

"This is insane!" Adam declared. "You've got that all planned? You're actually serious about this, aren't you!"

She nodded.

He sighed heavily and shook his head.

"I really need your blessing, Adam." Sam practically begged. "Please. You have no idea how much that would mean to me."

"You sure that this is what you want?" he asked. "That he's who you want to be with?"

"I love him, Adam. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. And I want to spend the rest of my life with him and have his children. Your nieces or nephews, Adam. And you can't tell me you'd turn your back on that."

"Of course not." he said. "Never. I just want you to be absolutely sure that this is what you want. That he is who you want."

Sam took her brother's face in his hands and stared him deep in the eyes. "There's no one else I could ever love the way I love him. And he loves me and makes me feel like I'm the most important thing in the world."

"I just want you to be happy." Adam told her."It's all I want."

"I am happy. For the first time in my life I am truly happy, Peanut."

He smiled, blushed from head to toe at the use of his childhood nickname. "I'll be there." he assured her. "At your wedding. I'll even walk you down the aisle or into the room or whatever. I can't deny you being happy. You deserve that."

"Thank you." Sam said and kissed his cheek.

"Just promise me that you know what you're doing."

"I promise you." she said.

Adam went to say something else but was cut off by the loud ringing of her cell phone.

Sam checked the call display. "I'm sorry, Adam. It's the OB/GYN my doctor is sending me to on Friday. I have to take this."

He nodded and smiled understandingly. Watched her as she left the room and stepped out of the room, standing in the hallway with her phone pressed to her ear. Can't believe it, he thought, his throat tightening and emotion welling inside of him. She's going to be mom.

And he never felt so proud of her in his entire life.

* * *

The rest of the team took news of the engagement far better than Adam's first reaction. They were happy and excited and offered up hugs and kisses of congratulations. If any of them thought it was too soon or that they were making a big mistake, those thoughts were kept silent. Danny couldn't stop talking about being the best man and all the duties that came with it. Including a blow out bachelor party that Sam threatened there better be no strippers at. Danny looked at her as if she was crazy. After all, what was a bachelor party without strippers? Stella talked about helping her with plans and taking her wedding dress shopping or to some designer friend of hers who did excellent work and could do a fantastic wedding dress at a fraction of what would be spent in a store. Sam didn't have the heart to tell her that there wasn't going to be a big thing and that no one was invited outside of the small intimate group already picked out.

Keeping the other big news secret was turning out to be harder than Sam thought it would. Maybe it was because for a girl that usually surprised people with the amount of food she could eat, she hadn't but a bite in her mouth all day. Not to mention the number of times she had to run to the washroom to be sick. Hiding things like that were not easy.

On top of that, she was bored stiff being stuck in the lab, hunkered down over trace samples all day. She missed the rush of being out in the field and knew it would be a long, long time before she felt that again. She'd relegated herself to the fact that as soon as Mac found out about the baby, she'd be placed on permanent lab work. Which meant she'd be stick working with her brother, day in, day out. And that was a frightening thought.

"Please tell me you're not disrespecting my lab." Speed said, as he joined her in the room, setting a paper bag and a styrofoam cup down on the table in front of her.

"I have not abused her." she said. "Much."

Speed grinned. "Eat up." he told her, nodding at the bag. "Drink up." he pushed the cup towards her.

"Tim, as much as I appreciate it, if I even so as much think of food, I throw up."

"Gotta eat and drink." he said, grabbing his lab coat off a hook along the wall and shrugging into it, sliding behind the table alongside of her. "Don't eat or drink enough with all that vomiting you're doing, you're gonna end up in the hospital with dehydration. And I don't think you want that."

She shook her head. Reached for the cup and sniffed it. She pulled a foul face. "What the hell is it?" she asked, sipping cautiously.

"Ginger tea. Girl at the Starbucks I stopped at is pregnant and she mentioned she had wicked morning sickness and this stuff helped."

"Tastes like shit!" Sam cried and grimaced.

"Hey, if it works, that's all that matters." Speed reasoned. "Flack said you weren't eating much and he's worried sick, so I picked you up a plain croissant. Might settle your stomach. Hate to see you suffer like that."

"You did all of this on your own?" Sam asked, peering into the bag.

"I did."

She took the croissant from the bag and a took a bite. It tasted like heaven. Hopefully it would stay down. "Thank you." she said. "I appreciate it."

"It's no problem." he assured her. "As long as you don't puke on me, we're good."

"I'll try my best." Sam told him.

"You know, I'm really happy for you and Flack. He loves you. Already told him he didn't treat you right I was going to break both his legs."

"I don't think you have to worry about that. He treats me great. He's amazing, Tim. He really is."

Speed smiled. "Glad to hear that. Considering..."

"Thought we agreed to keep that between us." Sam said, sipping the horrid tasting tea.

"We did. And we've been doing a pretty good job of it. I just... I'm not going to lie to you, Sam and say I don't feel anything for you. 'Cause I do. So if you think I've been off hand lately or that I've been trying to avoid you, I just want you to know that that's why. I haven't done it to hurt you or anything like that. I've just been trying to concentrate on me and Carmen and the life we're trying to make."

"Tim, you don't have to defend yourself to me." Sam told him. "I understand. It's not the most comfortable situation sometimes. But I love Carmen. She's like a sister to me and I would never, ever do anything to hurt her. And I would never, ever do anything to hurt Don. So don't feel you have to justify yourself and the things you're doing. You're still my friend no matter what."

He smiled. "Things can be pretty damn complicated, huh?"

"Sometimes." she admitted. "It's up to us to uncomplicate them."

He nodded. "I was thinking, about what you said that night at the elevator, about another place, another time. You think that's true? That if we had have met say in Miami, that maybe..."

"Who knows." Sam sighed. "We'll never know that. And maybe that's a good thing. For everyone involved."

"Maybe." he said and snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

"I'm really happy for you and Carmen, Tim. I hope everything works out the way you guys want it to."

"It will." he said confidently.

"And besides," Sam said. "I never would have been in Miami."

"Why not?"

"I look like shit in a bikini."

He grinned. "Somehow, Mouse, I highly doubt that."

"I like when you call me that." she said.

He smiled at her. "So do I."

"Can I call you Timmy?" she asked curiously.

"Uh...no." he replied.

"Timothy?" she replied.

"Only under special circumstances." he said with a grin.

"And what special circumstances would those be?" she inquired.

"If ya had have visited Miami," he said. "You would have found that out."

**Thanks to everyone R and R'ing. And welcome to everyone new! Lots more to come. Don't know why I feel compelled to say this, but I want everyone to know that Sam is not the reason Carmen and Speed broke up. Sam and Speed happens nearly three years later. And as for how and why and all the juicy, smutty details, y'all will just have to wait and see! There is far more to that situation than meets the eye! And I feel the need to start an I hate Rick fan club. It only gets worse. Trust me.**


	43. A tiny heartbeat, not so baby steps

**A tiny heartbeat and not so baby steps**

"I was glued to my TV and it looked like he looked at me and said  
"Best start putting first things first."  
Cause when your hourglass runs out of sand  
You can't flip over and start again  
Take every breathe God gives you for what it's worth"  
-Don't Blink, Kenny Chesney

* * *

**A/N: I am dedicating the first part of this chapter to Aphina for lending me her 'baby' and letting me do things to her and trusting me enough not to torture her too much.**

Carmen checked her watch. It was quarter to one on a blustery Friday afternoon. There were four heavy garment bags slung over her right arm and a massive plastic bag with four shoe boxes twisted around the fingers of her left hand as she crammed into the packed elevator and struggled to reach between people in order to press the button for the thirty-fifth floor. New Yorkers could be real ignorant bastards. They weren't too keen on holding open doors and helping old ladies across the street, and thought nothing of stepping off a curb and stealing the cab you'd been trying to hail for the last twenty minutes. Carmen supposed there were people like that everywhere. The kind that didn't look you in the eye when you talked to them or didn't return a smile or a pleasant comment you passed their way. But on long days such as this one, when your last nerves were _thisclose _to snapping, every little thing led you to believe you lived in the shittiest place on earth surrounded by the shittiest people on earth. The old man behind her checking out her ass didn't make things better and she made a point of stomping on his foot by mistake and not apologizing when he told her off.

One highlight of the day was the nine eleven charity ball being held that evening in the grand ballroom at the Waldorf-Astoria. She wasn't normally the evening gown, sip champagne and hob knob with the upper crusters kind of girl, but with the whole team attending as ambassadors of the crime lab, she knew it was going to be a hell of a good time. It always was when they all got together. Which, with the crazy shifts they were all working, didn't seem to happen often enough. Not to mention that things were starting to change in peoples' lives that didn't leave them a lot of time or energy to socialize. Danny and Erica were getting closer and closer and were beginning to discuss moving in together. He spent all of his time at her place and barely hung out with Flack anymore, let alone anyone else. Not that the latter had much time to be doing much hanging out now that his own life was coming together at record speed. A wedding three months away and a baby on board. Overwhelming for anyone. Yet he seemed to be taking it all in in stride. A permanent smile embedded on his handsome face and less weight resting on his broad shoulders.

Mac and Stella were buying a brownstone in Brooklyn. The news of that had surprised people more than the news of Samantha and Flack getting engaged. With them, everyone seemed to sense it coming and were just waiting for it to happen. With Mac and Stella, they were all left guessing when and if Mac was finally going to be able to let the ghost of Claire and the memories of Peyton take a back seat to Stella. Stella had put the mistakes of Frankie Mala and Drew Bedford behind her and was desperate to begin a new chapter in her life. With Mac. Danny had told Sam and Carmen that the team always knew that there was something there between Mac and Stella and that they never understood why the two didn't see it for themselves. And no one could be happier for them now that after years of unexpressed feelings on both parts, the two were in love and disgustingly happy.

Selfishly speaking, Carmen was the most happiest with the way things were going with her life. After the disaster that was her first husband and years spent vowing she'd never let herself fall in love again in order to spare herself the suffering and anguish that came with it, she'd found, despite all of her initial reservations, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Grow old with. Have children with. And Carmen Devine was not a children person. They were fine as long as they were someone elses, she'd always said. Spend the day with them and send them home when they got on her nerves. But now, surprisingly, she found herself imagining life as a mother. Maybe being so close to someone that was so much in love and expecting a baby of their own and seeing the way Sam's eyes sparkled and her face lit up at the mere mention of the baby inside of her, had opened Carmen's eyes and heart to the fact she'd always wanted that for herself but had never been with someone she'd consider giving that much of herself to.

And now she had. She'd never felt so loved and cherished and adored before. She'd never had a man in her life that all he had to do was walk in the room and her heart fluttered and her knees grew weak. Someone who could express so much affection and tenderness with just a simple glance or a slight touch or smile. Someone who could make her feel things she'd never thought possible after such a tumultous past. An all consuming, overwhelming love that took your breath away and nearly brought you to your knees and made your head spin and your heart ache. It was frightening. Yet oh so perfect and welcome. Tim had taught her that it was okay to be weak and need someone as badly as she found she needed him. That she could rely on him through thick and thin, trust him to protect her and make her feel safe and whole. And that she could give herself to him wholly.

Her life and her heart had never felt so complete.

Now if only the murderers and evil doers of New York City would co-operate just a bit. A seemingly endless parade of crime scenes since eight that morning was a clear indicator that no one would be out of work in time to go home and get ready before heading to the ball. So Carmen had made a quick run to her place and then on to Flack's (courtesy of the key Sam had tossed her way) and picked up everything the four of them had planned on wearing that night. The tuxes felt like they weighed a ton and the bag with the shoes was twisting around her fingers and agonizingly cutting off the blood circulation by the time she made it to the locker room and stuffed everything into hers and Sam's locker.

Next time, she thought, as she headed for the break room and a well deserved snack and a tea, the guys do all the running around and the heavy lifting. This girl is on strike.

She wished she could say the same to the mountains of work waiting for her down in the layout lab. New York definitely lived up to moniker of the city that never sleeps. And that included any one affiliated with the NYPD and the crime lab.

* * *

Sam was sitting on one of the couches in the break room, nursing a large bottle of water and flipping through case files when Carmen came strolling in.

"Thought you'd be long gone by now." Carmen commented. "Don't you have that appointment at two?"

Sam nodded and pushed her glasses up onto her head and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "Doctor Lightheart. An OB over at Womens and Childrens. Apparently she's one of the best. Guess my doctor's tight with her and that's why she got me in so quick. Normally you wait a couple weeks. Sometimes even a few. And that's if she wants to take on another patient."

Carmen yawned and took a bottle of water from the fridge and a bag of salt and vinegar chips from the vending machine and joined her friend on the couch. "What about the ultrasound?" she asked, plopping down beside her friend.

"We go there first. It's done in the hospital's radiology department so thankfully we don't have to travel. I've developed a tendency to become car sick very easily."

"Where's Flack? Its almost one and with the traffic the way it is, you guys are going to need at least forty five minutes to get there."

"He got held up in Queens talking to a possible witness in your guys' case. He's hoping to be here by one thirty, but if not, Hawkes said he'd take me."

Carmen arched an eyebrow. "Hawkes knows?" she asked.

"He figured it out." Sam replied, putting her glasses back on and sipping her water. "He is a doctor after all and he is very, very observant. I can trust him not to tell the others."

"I put your dress and everything else in your locker." Carmen handed Sam her key. "Can't believe Tim and Flack are going to be wearing tuxes."

"I can hardly wait." Sam declared. "My man is going to be so fine."

"How are you feeling?" Carmen asked.

Sam shrugged and took a huge swallow of water.

"How much you have to drink?"

"A litre. I was suppose to be finished an hour before the ultrasound, but I couldn't do it. Shhh.." she placed a finger over her lips. "Our little secret. Don will kill me if he thinks I didn't follow the instructions right to the letter. How cop is that?"

"Have you eaten lunch?"

"Eat? I can't stop throwing up! Let's keep that between us too, to avoid me being reamed out."

"You have to eat, Samantha." Carmen scolded her. "You need protein, vitamins, minerals, shit loads of calcium. All the calories you can get. That baby is relying on you to keep it and yourself healthy. And how is that going to happen if you loose weight instead of gain? I have honestly never seen someone this sick."

"It's suppose to be morning sickness." Sam said. "It lasts all day and all night! I think I'm being punished. Seriously. God's getting back at me for the bad things I've done. Getting pregnant out of wedlock, having premarital sex. I swear he is. Why else would I be suffering like this?"

"Must be a boy." Carmen said.

"I said the same thing to Don yesterday. I told him that only a guy would make a woman suffer like this."

"You guys want a boy or a girl?"

"I've always wanted my first born to be a boy. I don't know why. Guess it's the whole protective older brother idea for whoever comes next. He says it doesn't matter, but I think Don wants a boy, too. All guys want their first to be a boy."

"A Donald Flack the third?"

"Are you kidding me? He'd kill me if I even suggested it. He's always trying to get out from the shadow that name casts on him all the time. He wouldn't think of doing that to his own kid."

"Speaking of the name," Carmen said. "When's this dinner with his parents suppose to take place?"

"Sunday. They're having us under the assumption I'm just the new girlfriend. Don's freaked."

"I know. He was rambling on about it at our scene today."

"He's nervous how is parents are going to react having two bombs dropped on them. Gaining a daughter in law and a grandchild just out of the blue. Let's just hope the situation is a positive one."

"You don't sound too optimistic."

"I'm trying to be. God, enough water!" Sam sat the nearly empty bottle on the table in front of them. "If I drink anymore I'll either be sick or explode. Both, maybe."

"I just hope this OB can give you something to stop all the puking so you can actually keep food down." Carmen sighed, beyond worried for both her friend and the baby she was carrying.

"Hawkes mentioned a pill, Diclectin, that is practically a miracle worker. He said to ask about it."

"Sam, for God sakes, be careful with medication. Look at all the women that thought Thalidomide was safe and took it while they were pregnant and their babies were born with all kinds of problems. And what about your other meds? You can't stop taking the seizure ones, can you?"

"I don't know. They said I need to have another MRI to see if there's anything that suggests the seizures will be permanent."

"And what about the depression and anxiety meds?"

"I've been off of them since the attack."

Carmen blinked. "You have? You never told me that."

Sam shrugged. "Didn't want to get your hopes up in case I needed to go back on them. So far, I'm doing okay."

Carmen leaned across the couch to hug her friend. "I am so proud of you. You know that, right? You've come so far in such a short period of time."

"Thanks. Don't get too excited, though. Might need to go back on them when I meet Don's parents."

"I'm sure everything will go nice and smooth. But just watch the meds, Sam. You don't want anything bad happening.'

"You sound just like Don. Do you two get together and talk about these things before hand?"

"He's just concerned." Carmen told her. "And he loves you and this baby and wants everything to be okay. And we all love you. All of you. We just want everything to go smooth for you guys."

"Why do I feel like things will be anything but smooth?" Sam sighed.

"'Cause it's you and Flack." Carmen reasoned. "Nothing's ever easy for you two."

Sam's phone, sitting on the table in front of them, beeped noisily and she leaned across the table to pick it up. "Oh fuck off all ready," she said when she saw who it was.

"Who is it?" Carmen asked.

"You would not believe me if I told you." Sam replied.

"Try me."

"Don's ex-girlfriend. The rich one. Dylan...Denise...whatever the hell her name is."

"Devon. What does she want? And how'd she get your number?"

"She's been calling Don constantly for about two months now. Short of changing his numbers, he ignores her the best he can. Guess she stopped by downstairs yesterday and he wasn't there and Angell wagged her big mouth off and told her that Don had gotten engaged and, God bless Angell's soul, my name and where I worked. Somehow Devon managed to get my number and now..."

The phone rang again.

"this is the result." Sam finished. "It's constant."

"Give me the phone and I'll tell her where to go and how to get there." Carmen said.

"Do it in person. She's going to the ball tonight. Guess she attends all this charity gigs."

"Wonderful." Carmen sighed.

"You have my permission to fuck her right up." Sam said.

"Whose fucking who up?" Flack asked as he entered the break room, catching the end of the conversation.

"Carmen's going to bitch slap your ex into the middle of next week." Sam told him. "She keeps calling me. Four times in a half an hour. Next time you answer it and ask her what the hell she wants."

"She hangs up when I answer." Flack said. "Block out her number. I told you to do that four hours ago." he went to the fridge and helped himself to someones bottle of water.

"She's using unknown name, unknown number." Sam told him. "I thought you said she was stupid."

"She is. But not as stupid as Angell apparently. I'll take care of her when I see her tonight. Both of them. Trust me."

"How'd it go in Queens?" Carmen asked as Flack parked himself on the arm of the couch. "Good witness?"

"Not even close. He definitely did not see anything remotely related to our crime. He told me that he saw three people, all together, dumping the body. OJ Simpson, Saddam Hussein and Hitler."

"No Osama?" Sam asked. "He didn't show?"

"Guess he had the night off." Flack replied. "Are you ready? Drink all your water?"

"For the most part."

"Suppose to drink the whole thing." he informed her.

"My bladder is only so big. It will not hold a litre of water."

"Did you eat?"

"Well..." Sam said.

Flack looked at Carmen, an eyebrow raised.

"Don't look at me." Carmen said. "I just got here."

"I had some crackers and an apple." Sam informed them.

"That is not eating." Flack said. "You throw it up?"

"Just a bit."

"I say we hold her down and force feed her" Carmen suggested.

"You know what I hope?" Flack asked. "I hope the doctor puts you in the hospital and shoves a feeding tube in ya and leaves it there for the next however many months."

"You're mean!" Sam exclaimed.

"Tell Carmen how much weight you've lost since the time you thought you had the flu to this morning. Tell her so she can beat your ass." he downed his water and stood up.

"Not that much." Sam said.

"Eleven pounds." Flack announced, tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bins across the room. "She's lost eleven pounds."

"Not good, Sam." Carmen declared, shaking her head.

"Like she wasn't small to begin with." Flack said. "Now she really does fit in junior clothes."

"You're exaggerating." Sam told him. "And besides..." she stood up and rubbed his stomach. "You have enough weight for both of us."

"Cute...you're cute. If you weren't a woman and pregnant, I'd beat your ass."

"I like your love handles." Sam declared. "Sometimes you look like the pregnant one. I'd say..." she pinched his stomach. "at least five months."

He smirked. "You know what? Let's go." he gestured to the door.

Carmen couldn't help but laugh at their good natured teasing. "See ya later, guys. And make her eat something, Flack."

"Yeah...right." he said as he followed Sam to the door.

"Maybe I'm trying to be a skinny, anorexic pregnant chick like Nicole Ritchie." Sam told them.

"Uh... no." Flack said. "Let's go."

"Magic word." Sam retorted.

"Now."

She grinned at Carmen. "I love when he gets all bossy, aggressive cop. I almost take him seriously."

Flack sighed exasperatedly. "Samantha..."

"All right, all right. I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh."

Flack shook his head as he watched her leave the room.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you." Carmen said.

"Oh, I know. I'm just trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to put up with her for the rest of my life."

"Are you coming or not?" Sam called from the hallway.

"Patience is a virtue, Flack." Carmen reminded him.

"Yeah? Well whoever said that never met her."

"And you thank God every day that you did meet her."

He smiled. "Absolutely." he said.

* * *

The waiting room of the ultrasound clinic at Women's and Children's was packed solid with expectant mothers and their nervous spouses. Women in various stages of pregnancy, including ones that could barely walk and looked like they could pop any second.

Sam watched one such woman, as she left the actual ultrasound area and slowly made her way through the waiting area on the arm of her husband. The woman looked like she was carrying a small elephant never mind a baby.

"I so hope I don't get that big." she commented to Flack.

"You kidding. Bigger." he teased and stretched out his legs and leaned his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes.

"Bite your tongue." Sam said and went back to her magazine. Anything to keep her mind off of the fact she needed to go to the washroom. "Did you turn your phone off?" she asked.

"It's on vibrate." he replied. "I turn it off and a call comes in, Gerrard will have my ass."

"That guy's an ass hole." Sam declared.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"And you're starting to scare people."

"Why?"

"Your badge and your gun are spooking them. I think they think you're escorting a prisoner to an appointment."

"And I'm sitting here with a felon with my eyes closed trying to take a nap?"

"Hey, it's the NYPD. Anything is possible. Seriously though. People keep staring at us."

"Maybe I should 'cuff ya to the chair and really freak them out." Flack suggested.

"Honey, I think your handcuffs are partly responsible for getting us to this moment."

"You know what go us to this moment? Someone forget to take their birth control pills for five straight days." Flack told her.

"It happened before that.'

"So that means you forget to take them on more than one occasion. How does someone as smart as you forget to take the pill? This proves my whole more education less common sense theory."

"Only thing it proves, Donald, is that you can't keep it in your pants."

He smirked. "No is a very simple word, Samantha." he retorted.

"I do not know the meaning of that word."

"Apparently." he said and got smacked in the arm by her magazine.

"You are being a real pain in the ass today." Sam told him.

He opened his eyes and sat up. "Just joking. Come here." he put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her into him to kiss the side of her head. "You're being way too hormonal all ready." he said. "Freaking out on me last night for leaving socks on the floor and the toilet set up."

"I almost fell in at three in the morning!" she exclaimed.

"Next time turn the light on." he suggested.

"Next time put the seat down."

"Hey, if I want to leave the seat up, I can. It's my..." he bit his tongue to prevent next word from escaping his mouth.

"You are so damn lucky you caught yourself you finished that sentence." Sam said.

He bit his bottom lip and nodded in agreement. "What time are we suppose to see this doctor at?" he asked, checking his watch.

"Whenever we're done here."

"I have to be back at four." he informed her.

Sam sighed.

"What? I do. I can't help it. I've got loads of work to do and we gotta be at that stupid goddamn ball thing for eight."

"Aren't you excited? You get to wear a tux."

He snorted.

"And we ge to spend the night in a fancy hotel room and you get to see me in a fancy dress."

"All I care about is getting you out of the dress." he said.

"Is that all you think of?" she asked.

"You really have to ask that? I'm a guy. A guy who gets to sleep in the same bed as someone who looks like you and has a body like you do. Do you blame me for being a perv? And you're usually the one who initiates things anyway."

"What?" she laughed. "You are so full of shit! You're the aggressive one and you know it."

"My back and shoulders beg to differ." he said.

"God!" she exclaimed, shaking both legs. "I have to pee so bad!"

"Gotta hold it. You don't hold it and we'll have to come back and do this all over again."

"I'm telling you right now, they press on my stomach to much and I'll pee all over them."

"Just don't think of anything that has to do with water." Flack told her. "Don't think about the way the kitchen tap drips constantly or the way the neighbour upstairs constantly runs the water or the way it's suppose to piss down rain for the next three days."

"Stop!" she cried. "You'll make me pee my pants."

"And whatever you do, do not think about Niagara Falls."

"Don!" she scolded him. "Don't! Or I swear I will pee myself right here and you'll have to clean it up. You just wait until you're forty five and you have to go for a prostate exam. I will needle you until you can't take it anymore."

"If you even think I'll let some doctor..."

The door to the ultrasound viewing area opened. "Samantha Ross?" a tech, chart in hands called into the waiting room.

"Ready?" Flack asked, standing up and offering his hand. "Let's go see what this brat looks like."

* * *

It was a small cramped room with nothing in it but a simple hospital bed, two metal chairs and an elaborate ultrasound machine. The tech introduced herself as Allison. She was tall and slightly chubby with cropped red hair and a piercing in her eyebrow and numerous studs in each ear.

"Just lie down and pull your pants down a bit and I'll get set up here." Allison said to Sam.

Sam giggled. Mostly from nervousness. "Pulling my pants down got me here today." she said as she did as she was told.

Flack cleared his throat and shook his head at her and tried not to laugh.

"Well it is." Sam said and settled her head against a pillow.

Allison pulled up a chair and nodded to it. "Go ahead, Dad, have a seat."

Hearing someone call him that for the first time took Flack by surprise and he felt his chest tighten with emotion and his stomach feel anxious.

Allison noticed the badge clipped to his pants as he sat down at the head of the bed. "Are you both police?" she asked curiously.

"He's a detective and I'm a crime scene investigator." Sam told her.

"Like the show?"

"Just like it. Only we don't get test results in a minute and it takes longer than forty five to solve a case."

"You're lucky if you solve it in forty eight hours." Flack said. "If you even solve it all."

"Is this your guys' first baby?"

Sam nodded. She was shivering because room was cold and she needed to go to the bathroom, and because she was scared right shitless.

"Exciting, isn't it?" Allison said as she sat down in front of the ultrasound machine and opened Sam's chart. "So, according to this letter here from Doctor Lightheart, you're here to have the pregnancy confirmed and dated. So what I'll be looking for mostly is the heartbeat, umbilical cord and placenta." she noticed Sam's ring. "Very nice." she commented. "You must have been a very good girl."

"I was. Another reason why we're here. I was too good."

Allison laughed. "But I bet it was fun getting to this point." she said.

"You have no idea." Sam told her.

"Okay. We're ready to start. Did you drink all your water?"

"I did. And I warn you now that if you press too hard, I'll make a mess."

"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened. I promise I'll be as gentle as possible. Now this is going to be cold..." she warned and smeared a gel like substance on Sam's bare stomach. "You're tiny so we won't have trouble getting good pics. Nervous, dad? You look nervous."

"A bit." Flack admitted. "More excited than anything."

"Lots of excitement to come in the next several months, trust me. I have three kids of my own. Each time is just as exciting as the one before it. So let's see if we can find this little baby of yours."

Flack picked up one of Sam's tiny hands and held it tightly, stroked her hair with his other hand.

She turned her head and smiled and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

It took several long, agonizing minutes for Allison to find what she was looking for. Prodding and poking and swirling the transmitter over Sam's stomach, occasionally stopping to input information into the computer. Such a long wait to see anything made both Sam and Flack extremely nervous. They wondered if the reason why the young woman was having trouble finding anything was because there wasn't anything to find. That they'd gotten their hopes up for nothing.

Samantha was crest fallen and near tears and was about to ask if they couldt just stop and get the hell out of there when Allison finally stopped her exploration and hit a couple of buttons on the keyboard in front of her.

"Here we go!" she announced.

Sam squinted as she looked at the screen. "I don't see anything." she said. "Looks like a whole lot of nothing."

"You're just in the early stages." Allison told her. "Not much to see until about the twentieth week. But right here..." she pointed to a spot on the screen. "that's the umbilical cord. See it stretched up like that? And here..." she pointed to another spot. "that is part of the placenta... and this right here..." she enhanced the image and tapped a finger against the screen. "That's your little ones heart beat."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "I don't really see anything."

"I'm sure. See...you can see the movements. And that's a strong heart beat, trust me."

"So I am pregnant?"

"One hundred percent."

"That's amazing." Flack said.

His tone was so soft and quiet that Sam didn't even recognize his voice. She'd been so intently looking at the screen beside her that she'd almost forgotten he was even there. She looked over at him and there were tears trickling down his face. She smiled and tightened the grip on his hand and reached out to touch his face gently.

"See what we did, Sam? What we made? It's amazing." he said and kissed her softly and gazed into her eyes with adoration and pride.

"Congratulations." Allison said, beaming. "If you want, I can print up some pictures and you can take them home."

"I'll keep one at my desk." Flack said, wiping at his eyes. "You know, when I look at it, it'll make the bad days more bearable knowing I have something to look forward to."

Sam stared at him. "Who are you and what have you done with my fiance?" she asked.

He just shrugged and smiled and kissed her.

Suddenly a whole new life was right there in front of him. Another chance to be the man he wanted to be and knew he could be.

* * *

An hour later they were out of the appointment with Doctor Lightheart and armed with prescriptions and a list of things to pick up and places to call. The doctor - a tiny little ball of energy with snow white waist length hair and an Irish accent- had gone through the results of the ultrasound. Measurements of both the fetus and the uterus dated the pregnancy at thirteen weeks. Farther than both of them expected it to be. At three months, plus one week, it meant that they'd only been together a month when she'd conceived. She was all ready pregnant -barely- at the time they had their conversation at the zoo about kids. And at the time of the attack. Doctor Lightheart had no explanation as to why the baby had survived the incident, other than it must have been an act of God.

After being weighed and sent for a triple screen test -a simple blood test that could, by certain levels of hormones in Sam's blood, determine the percentage of which the baby may carry some genetic or chromosonal defect- they were given a detailed list of vitamins and supplements to pick up and a prescription for the medicine that Hawkes had recommended. They went to the nearest pharmacy, got the script filled and loaded a basket with pre-natal vitamins and folic acid. Sam couldn't wait to start taking it and start feeling human again and took the first one in the car the second the prescription was filled. Then they talked about what they'd do if that blood test showed anything was wrong with the baby. They agreed that unless it was life or death to Sam or the baby or both, they'd have it no matter what. If that baby could survive what happened to its mother, it was meant to be on earth. It was simple as that.

They planned to start telling everyone the news as soon as they got back to work. First, they went to the Barnes and Noble book store a block from the lab and spent some time browsing the parenting section. Picking up a chalk load of reading material. Something called The Pregnancy Journal that Sam could fill out as each week went by or she experienced something new. A copy of Pregnancy, Childbirth and the Newborn, one of The Expectant Father and the old standard, What to Expect When You're Expecting. That last one they actually looked at it in the aisle.

Flack found the thirteen week section. There was a to scale drawing of a fetus.

"Looks like a tadpole." Sam commented.

"I was thinking it looked like your brother." Flack said and shut the book.

"Way to insult our child!" Sam laughed. "Saying it looks like Adam!"

They had just started to head for the cash when a familiar face stepped out of one of the nearby aisles and the three of them stood staring at each other.

"Uh...hi..." Sam stuttered. "...Mac..."

Her boss looked at the two of them. Saw the deer caught in the headlights look on both of their faces and the stack of books in Flack's hands. The title of the top one catching his eye. A slow grin crossed his face.

"You two have something to tell me?" he asked.

"Surprise?" Sam offered.

"First an engagement and now a baby?" Mac asked. "You two have been busy."

"One has nothing to do with the other." Flack told the older man.

"When did you find out?" Mac asked.

"About an hour and a half ago." Sam replied.

"So that's the appointment you had to go to. How far along?

"Three months, one week." Sam replied.

"Congratulations." Mac said sincerely and offered his hand to Flack.

"Thanks, Mac." he said and shook the hand of the man who once saved his life.

"Congratulations, Samantha." Mac said and embraced her and kissed her cheek. "You realize what this means, right?"

"I can work in the field until I can't stand on my feet anymore?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Means you and your brother will be spending a lot of time together in the lab." Mac replied.

She pouted.

"We'll have to go over what you can to and what you can't do. Certainly no radiation of any kind or exposure to toxins. And probably ballistics is out of the question too."

"You're killing me, Mac." Sam declared. "Are you always like this when an employee gets pregnant?"

"Actually," he said. "You're the first employee that's ever gotten pregnant since I've been in charge."

"See what happens when you hire a Brooklyn girl, Mac?" Flack teased. "All hell breaks loose. Next thing you know, women are gonna be getting pregnant all over the place at work. It'll be like it's contagious."

Mac frowned. "I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Could be Stella." Sam chirped.

"Just for that," Mac teased. "You're in trace for the next six months"

**Thanks to everyone whose R and R'ing and adding me to their alerts! Apologies to anyone who didn't get an e-mail back. I was having major comp. issues ad was lucky to get this done!!**


	44. Start spreading the news

**Start spreading the news**

"There are places I remember  
all my life though some have changed  
some forever, not for better  
and some have gone and some remained."  
-In my Life, John Lennon and Paul McCartney

* * *

Speed walked quickly and determinedly to the tox lab. He'd spent the entire day suspecting that his Hudson floater was either a suicide or death by misadventure. There were no outward signs to suggest foul play of any kind. Body was still fully clothed, no obvious trauma or defensive wounds to suggest an attack, and all the ID, credit and bank cards and a hundred in cash still the the wallet. Not even a hit in missing persons. Either no one missed the guy or he hadn't been gone long enough to cause suspicion. Speed had walked into tox with the expectation of finding massive amounts of drugs in the system to support his over dose theory or the thought that the guy'd been doped up so bad he's simply walked into the river not knowing where he was going and drowned. Wouldn't be the first time that had happened and it wouldn't be the last.

The lab tech who'd handed over the final results was a fresh faced, just out of college guy named with Chase who had carrot red hair and a face load of freckles and a witty, often off hand sense of humour that meant he fit in well around there with sarcasm and dry, cynical humor that seemed to drip out of every ones pores. Chase could hold his own with the best of them, but he shivered in his Nikes whenever Sam came around. Tiniest thing there and she terrified the shit out of him. Probably because you could only get snarky or bitchy with her once. First time she gave you a look that meant not to try it again. Second time she sat you back on your heels. Even Speed had to admit she was intimidating for someone that could fit into most peoples' pockets. But most men were intimated by fiercely intelligent, insanely attractive women. Especially ones that weren't afraid to stand up for themselves or other people. Flack denied it, but Speed suspected even a big guy like Flack was a wee bit scared of her.

When Speed had walked in asking what he had for him, Chase had given him a relieved look that clearly meant, I am so glad it's you coming in here. He'd made the mistake of telling Sam she had a nice ass this morning when she bent down to pick something up in front of him. Only he'd made the comment when Detective Flack had been in the same room without even realizing that the two of them were even a couple. Chase had only been working there for three days and had managed to steer clear of the office gossip for an entire seventy-two hours. And it wasn't as if Sam and Flack walked around advertising they were together while on shift. One of Mac's major peeves with office relationships was those who felt the need to engage in any form of public display of affection. Whether it be a kiss on the cheek to the simple act of holding someones hand. Mac saw that and you were being hauled into the office for his legendary 'keep your head on straight' lecture. Every couple had been subject to 'the talk'. And more than once.

So Chase had made his now infamous 'junk in the trunk' comment and had been torn a new one by Flack. Every tech in there at one point in time had been torn a new one by Flack, usually over screwed up results or plain stupidity. This time he was a little more pissed off than in normal circumstances. Chase was intimidated by Flack. Most people were. Not so much the snarky, off hand, ass-holish comments that Flack tossed around so easily, but because the guy was so goddamn big. At least six inches taller and at least sixty pounds heavier than the new lab tech. Chase had nearly pissed himself and couldn't apologize enough. And now every time he was Flack or Samantha, he was scared right shitless.

"Don't worry," Speed said when he noticed the look of sheer relief on the kid's face. "I'm actually in a good mood today."

"Good." Chase said and leafed through a pile of reports cluttering his work station. "'Cause I don't need anymore confrontations."

"I don't know what rock you've been hiding under for three days, but everyone knows that Sam and Flack together. They're engaged for Christ sakes. And they're expecting..." Speed bit his tongue.

Twice today he'd almost let the news slip and one of those times had been to Gerrard when the Chief Inspector had waltzed into the lab wanting to know where Flack and 'that girl' were. Guess old Gerrard had gone looking for Flack downstairs and someone -probably Angell, who was being a spiteful little bitch lately- had ratted Flack out and said he was upstairs at the lab. Gerrard knew damn well that Flack had shit loads of work to do and assumed he was spending time up in the lab socializing. Only a fifteen minute search of the thirty-fifth floor had turned up no Flack and no Samantha. Only pissing Gerrard off more. So he'd stormed into trace demanding to know where Flack was and Speed had nearly, unintentionally, let out the big secret.

"He's gone to Womens and Childrens with his fiancee." Speed had said.

"And why have they gone there?" Gerrard inquired.

"Because she's..."

Hawkes had stomped on Speed's foot so hard it nearly brought the latter to his knees.

"Because the neurologist dealing with her seizures is there." Hawkes lied convincingly.

"Well you two tell Flack if you see him before I do that the next time he skips town in the middle of a shift, his ass is mine."

"Yes, sir." Speed had retorted, fighting back the urge to snap off a salute. Instead he flipped the middle finger at Gerrard's parting back.

That was nearly two hours ago and still no Flack.

"So what ya got for me?" Speed asked Chase, before he put his foot any farther in his mouth.

"Results." the tech handed him a file folder.

"Positive ones I hope." Speed said and flipped the folder open.

"Sorry." the tech said when he heard the CSI sigh heavily.

"You sure about this?" Speed asked.

"Ran it three times." Chase replied. "Same thing every time."

"Doesn't make sense." Speed said, more to himself than to anyone else. "I would have put money on it that there was drugs or alcohol involved. You are absolutely sure about this?"

The tech looked offended. "I know how to do my job, Speedle."

"Easy, easy. I'm just saying that it seemed clear cut to me as an OD. No defensive wounds, no signs of trauma."

"Well he died somehow." Chase said.

Speed frowned. "No shit. You're pretty perceptive, you know that?"

"Shouldn't you be off somewhere trying to figure out how he died? Isn't that what they pay you the big bucks for?"

Speed snorted as he left the room. "Thanks!" he called, waving the file over his head. "For nothing!"

* * *

Carmen paced frantically in front of the elevators, her arms crossed over her chest, biting her bottom lip, her cell phone clutched tightly in her hand. As Speed came out of the tox lab and saw her standing there, her thick auburn hair cascading down her back and her green eyes sparkling intently, he was taken aback by how beautiful she actually was. How alluring and sophisticated and astonishingly sexy. Sometimes it took you to stand back a little to see what was right in front of you. This amazing, loving, tender yet oh so complicated woman that had unexpectedly dropped into his life and made him want to be a better man and realize what true love was suppose to feel like. At that moment it was if a light bulb turned on in his head and he was filled with an overwhelming, intense feeling of love and adoration and ownership. As chauvinistic as that may have sounded, she was his and he was damn well determined to keep it that way.

Before Carmen, he never considered his future. Now he thought about it all the time. And she was his future.

"What's going on, Red?" he asked as he approached. "You're gonna wear down those tiles there pacin' like that."

"I'm waiting." Carmen replied simply.

"For?"

"Sam and Flack."

"Thought they had these doctors appointments to go to."

"They did. But the ultrasound was for two and even if that took half an hour and the appointment with the OB took an hour, and driving back here thirty minutes, they should have been here by now. It's close to four thirty."

"Maybe they got held up." Speed reasoned.

"Maybe there's something wrong." Carmen fretted.

"If there was something wrong, Flack would have called you."

"But I've been trying to get a hold of them!"

"If they're in appointments, he isn't going to answer. You need to leave those two alone and stop harassing them."

"I am not harrasing them!" Carmen argued. "I am excited for them and concerned and I just want..." she was interrupted by the shrill ring of her cellphone. She checked the call display. "Finally!" she exclaimed and pressed talk. "Hello?... where have you guys been?...I've been worried sick...where are you now?...okay, see you in a few." she hung up and smiled at Speed. "That was Flack. They just got back and they're on their way up."

"You're obsessed. You need to quit stalking them."

"They're my friends, Tim. Sam's like a sister to me. And this is a massive deal for them and I just want everything to work out for them. Not to mention I want Sam and the baby to be healthy. That's first and foremost."

The light above elevator to the left let out and there was a loud ding before the doors opened up. Sam and Flack stepped off, both looking so serious that Carmen immediately figured something must be wrong.

"Guess what?" Flack said, his tone dull and lifeless.

"Jesus..." Carmen put a hand to her chest in hopes of calming her pounding heart. "Don't tell me that it was some kind of screwed up false alarm."

"Nope." Sam said, a bright, ear to ear smile over taking her face as she held out an ultrasound picture. "You're going to be an aunt!"

"Seriously!?" Carmen shrieked. "For sure? Let me see!" she took the picture to get a better look.

"You can't really see much because I'm not that far along." Sam said. "But the part there that's circled? That's the heartbeat."

Tears of joy welled in Carmen's eyes. "This is so amazing! Can I keep this?"

"Sure." Sam said. "We have tons more. Don just showed them to fifteen complete strangers in the elevator on our way up here."

"I am so happy for you guys!" Carmen gushed and hugged her friend tightly while Speed congratulated Flack, who couldn't keep the huge, proud grin off of his face.

"Congratulations." Speed said to Sam, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

"Thanks, Tim. Just think, you'll be uncle Timmy."

"Don't you dare even think of teaching your kid something like that." Speed said.

"So?" Carmen patted Sam's stomach. "Just how pregnant are you?"

"Thirteen weeks."

Carmen was genuinely surprised.

"I know. We were surprised too." Sam said. "We weren't expecting that to say the least. We thought two months, maybe two and a half. We would have gotten back here sooner but we had a prescription to fill and we bought all these vitamins and what not and then Don all but cleaned out the parenting section at Barnes and Noble."

Flack held up a plastic bag as evidence.

"You're pathetic." Speed informed him.

"He's a proud father to be." Carmen retaliated. "It's nice to see a guy take that much interest. These days you don't see that very much. Don't ever loose that Flack."

"I won't." he assured her. "You guys seen Danny? I wanna tell him before someone else does.'

"Down in reconstruction." Speed said. "Word of warning, Gerrard is looking for you. And he's on the war path."

"What else is new? I'm gonna go and hunt down Danny and then get back downstairs before I find myself working a triple."

"Congratulations again, Flack." Carmen said and hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You must be so excited. We'll have to celebrate at the ball tonight. It's gonna kill Sam to stay away from the bar. Did you at least eat something?" the question was directed at her best friend.

"Believe it or not, I had McDonalds. I took one of those pills and forty five minutes later I had a Big Mac and fries and a chocolate shake. And so far, no puking. And before you as, the pills are a hundred per cent safe."

"Good." Carmen said. "And both of you are perfectly healthy?"

"So far so good. I just need to start putting on some weight, but the ultrasound shows that the baby is fine."

"Well let's keep it that way." Carmen said.

"I'm off to find Messer." Flack announced. He turned to Sam. "You need anything, just come downstairs or call my cell. If you don't need anything, I'll see you at seven thirty." He rubbed the small of her back and kissed her cheek.

"I'll be bringing your tux down for you." she told him as he headed off down the hall.

"Don't remind me. Carmen, you keep an eye on her."

"Consider it my new full time job." she said. "See ya, Flack. Congrats again."

"Thanks...see ya..."

"Can one guy be anymore happier?" Speed inquired.

"You're very lucky, Sam." Carmen said. "Having a man that supportive and into it. You're very lucky."

"Yes." she agreed, a hand on her stomach and a smile on her face. "We are."

* * *

Danny was standing back from the stainless steel prep table in reconstruction, eyeing the pig corpse in front of him and the wide array of weapons alongside of it.

Which do I pick first? he thought, and made to grab for a meat cleaver. Stopping when Flack came into the room. "Crime-stopper," Danny greeted. "How's your girl? Everything go okay at the doc's? They figure out why she's throwing up so much?"

"Yeah... they did." Flack stood by the side of the table. "Another sick experiment of your's Dan-o or are you taking that home to eat when you're finished with it."

"Blunt force trauma case I picked up. Unusual shaped head wound. So? What's going on with Sam? She got some kind of crazy virus or what?"

"Or what." Flack said.

Danny frowned. "It's not something majorly serious is it? Nothing terminal or anything like that?"

"What? No. Nothing like that." Flack assured him. "There's something I need to tell you. About me and Sam."

"What happened? You guys ain't breaking up all ready are you?"

"Are you mental? No. Me and her are good. Better than good. We're permanent."

"Well quit keeping me in suspense here. I wait any longer I'll have grey hair like you. At least tell me it's good news.'

"It is. Great news, actually. Sam's pregnant."

Danny stared at his best friend long and hard. "Say what?" he finally asked.

"She's pregnant. As in me and her are going to have a baby."

Danny chuckled. "Did I just hear you right? I would have sworn you just said you and Sam were having a kid."

"That's what I said." Flack confirmed.

"You're gonna be a father? Donald Flack Jr? Who once swore up and down that he'd never get married or have kids?"

Flack nodded.

Danny sighed and went back to work. "That's...that's nice...good for you... a wife and a kid in record time."

"That's all you have to say?" Flack asked, irritated by his friend's response. "That's nice?"

"What do you want me to say?" Danny asked in return.

"How about that's great, Flack, congratulations? It's about time you got your head out of your ass and figured out what and who you wanted. Something like that would be nice."

"I'm glad you figured out what you wanted." Danny told him. "I just think you guys are getting into all of this a little too quickly."

"You of all people I expected to be happy for me." Flack said. "All the shit we've been through. All the good times. All the times I bailed your ass out of tight spot. You of all people I expected more from."

"It's not that I'm not happy for you, Flack." Danny told him. "I am. Sam's the best thing that's ever happened to you."

"Yeah. She is. And so is this baby."

"Baby's a big step, Flack." Danny pointed out. "What happened? Forget to use a condom?"

"What?" Flack fought to remain calm. "What the hell is your issue?"

"No issue." Danny assured him. "I'm just saying that you guys are moving pretty quick. Just me the girl five months ago and now you're already gettin' married and havin' a baby. Two major steps in a short period of time."

"That's rich." Flack said. "You're practically living with Erica and you've known her less than I've known Sam."

"Living with her. Not marrying her or fathering her kid. How do you know that what you're feeling right now isn't just 'cause you got caught up in the moment? Thinking your in love? Two, three years down the road you're in a marriage you want out of but ya can't leave 'cause now you have two kids and it would cost ya an arm and a leg to pay support if ya left."

Flack snorted and shook his head. "You have no idea what the hell you're talking about, Messer. This isn't something I want out of. I'll never want out of this. I love Sam. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. And she's going to be my wife and she's having my baby. And I don't see why you have a major issue with this."

"I'm just worried about you, Flack." Danny said. "That's all."

"What are you so worried about? Tell me. What are you so fucking worried about?"

"I'm worried you don't know what you're getting yourself into." Danny told him. "That since the bombing you're got it in your head that you need to be with someone to make your life complete. That you've convinced yourself that you're in love and want to get married and have a kid and that you just settled for the first person that came along."

Flack slammed his hands down on the steel table top and leaned over it, blue eyes blazing. "You are fucking unbelievable, Danny." he said.

"You don't want to be alone, that's fine. I understand that. But you don't need go tossing your life away by getting married and having a kid. Date her. Fuck her. Live with her. Whatever. Year down the road and you still feel the same way, than it's all good."

"And who the fuck are you, Doctor Phil? I find it hard to take relationship advice from a guy who based his previous relationship on how a drunker fuck on a pool table was."

Danny's eyes grew icy. "This has nothing to do with me and Lindsay."

"You're right. It doesn't. This has to do with me and Sam. I love her, Danny. More than life itself. She makes me feel things I have never felt before. And I'm gonna marry her and she's having my kid regardless of some psycho-babble bullshit you're handing me. I thought I'd come in here and tell you face to face before someone else got to ya. 'Cause I thought, you were my best friend and deserved to hear it from me. And I thought as my best friend, you'd be happy for me."

"Well I'm sorry you thought that way." Danny said.

Flack wanted to reach across the table and nail the guy in the face or strangle him. Or both. Mac's words echoed in his ears. Keep things separate. Professional on one side, personal on the other. "I'm sorry, too." he said as he turned and left the room. "I'm sorry you're such a fucking prick."

"Whatever happened to bros before hoes, Flack?" Danny called after him.

"You tell me, Messer." Flack said and kept walking. "You were the one that hooked up with Lindsay."

* * *

Stella was at her desk, sipping a cup of tea and flipping through case folders when a soft knock came to her door. She glanced up and saw Samantha in the doorway.

"Can I come in?" Sam asked.

"Of course. How are you feeling?"

"Much better." Sam replied and slipped into one of the chairs in front of Stella's desk. "The doctor was able to give me something to settle my stomach."

"It's not contagious is it? The way the cases are piling up around here, I can't afford to get sick."

"It's not contagious." Sam assured her and crossed and uncrossed her legs nervously.

"Okay. So spill. What's going on?"

"Have you talked to Mac in the last hour?" Sam asked curiously.

"No...he's been out running errands. Why?"

"Don and I ran into him. On our way back here. In Barnes and Noble."

"He's in there all the time. What's so odd about that?"

"Nothing's odd about it. I just...you haven't talked to him at all?"

Stella shook her head. "Sam, what's going on? Spit it out!"

"Well, see, we were in there buying some things and we ran into Mac and he saw what they were and..."

"Samantha...what is it?"

"I'm pregnant." she announced quickly.

Slight shock registered on Stella's face. "You're what?"

"Pregnant. Three months pregnant to be exact." Sam passed over a copy of the ultrasound picture.

"A baby?" Stella asked, making out the heart beat in the picture.

Sam nodded. "See we ran into Mac and he saw these parenting books so we were kinda forced to tell him and I thought maybe he might have told you."

"Haven't spoken to him." Stella said. "I can't believe it. You and Flack? A baby? Never thought I'd see the day where he settled down and started a family. I expected something coming from you two, but I stopped at the engagement. But a baby? Wow. Can I keep this picture?"

Sam nodded.

Stella tucked it into the corner of her computer monitor and then got up and came around her desk and stood in front of Sam, taking the younger woman's hands in her own. "Congratulations." she said. "I'm so happy for you and Don."

"Thank you." Sam said. "You're opinion means a lot. You know that."

"Well in my opinion, it's about time he smartened the hell up and found a decent girl to settle down with. And you're so good for him, Sam. And he loves you so much."

She smiled. "I know. And I love him, too. So much it hurts sometimes."

"I know that feeling very well." Stella sighed.

The phone on the desk rang behind her.

"I'll let you get back to work." Sam said and stood up. "I just wanted you to hear it from me."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. Am I going to get to be auntie Stella?"

"Of course. I wouldn't dream of you not being that."

Stella hugged the tiny woman tightly. Kissed her cheeks. "You know what this means, right? Lots and lots of shopping for baby stuff!"

Sam laughed. "I'm looking forward to it."

"So am I." Stella smiled. "You best be getting back to work if you want to be out of here in time for the ball tonight."

Sam nodded.

"If you need anything, Sam, my doors is always open."

Sam smiled and headed from the room. "I know." she said.

"Congratulations. I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks." the young, pretty CSI said as she headed out.

Immensely happy, Stella thought. And immensely jealous.

**Thanks to everyone R and R'ing. I appreciate it! I apologize in advance if you guys don't receive any e-mail response back. I am having some major computer issues that I am trying to get fixed. Just know I am getting your reviews and I love them and appreciate them. I will be cutting down to updating maybe every second and in some cases every third day. I hope I don't loose any of you. It's just that things are a little crazy around here right now and I'm trying to get my life back in order. I'll keep posting as often as I can! Please bear with me!**


	45. All dressed up and someplace to go

**

* * *

**

All dressed up and someplace to go

**A/N: With all the anticipation for the ball, I have turned it into a two parter. Here's the first.**

"We go to a party, and everyone turns to see  
this beautiful lady that's walking around with me  
and the she asks me, do you feel all right?  
and I say yes, I feel wonderful tonight.  
I feel wonderful, because I see  
the love light in your eyes  
and the wonder of it all  
is that you just don't realize  
how much I love you."  
-Wonderful Tonight, Eric Clapton

* * *

"You're late, Flack." Jimmy Sullivan, or Sully as all the guys called him, announced, briefly glancing up from a wrinkled copy of that day's New York Times as the young detective stepped up to the front desk.

The duty captain was white haired and beefy and nearing retirement after nearly thirty five years on the job. He'd worked with Flack Sr for his entire career, almost a decade spent as Sr's partner. His own son, Keith, who Flack Jr had been extremely close to through his childhood and teenage years, had joined the army the day after high school graduation and was currently deployed on the front lines in Iraq. Leaving behind a wife and two young daughters to worry incessantly about him. Like Flack, Keith had been expected to follow in his daddy's footsteps and become a cop. When he didn't, old Sully nearly disowned the kid.

"So?" Flack asked, as he reached for the clipboard and pen in order to sign back in. "What are you going to do? Fire me?"

"Don't tempt me." Sully replied.

In reality, he had a soft spot for Flack Jr. Becoming a detective in record time was no small feat and deserving of accolades, no matter what Sr said about his son not paying his proper dues out on the street before selling himself out to the brass. Way Sully looked at it, having a determined, tenacious young guy like Flack Jr out on the street as a beat cop or a patrol man didn't do the city a damn bit of good. Having him solving the crimes and using his head was what was winning the wars out there. The cases that kid solved were absolutely incredible. Especially the Wilder drug bust a year back. Narco wasn't usually Flack's bag, but when one of his confidential informants said the Wilder Gang had been moving drugs in and out of a warehouse in Brooklyn for nearly a year, Flack had spent almost two months organizing things in conjuncture with Homeland Security. And because it was his informant that was so helpful, the department let Flack lead the raid.

It turned out to be a huge success and Flack got all kinds of accolades for that one. Too bad all his old man could dwell on was two things: One, it was his son's own damn fault he'd been injured in the bomb blast two and a bit years ago. If Jr had have just gotten the hell out instead of playing hero with Mac Taylor, he wouldn't have ended up on deaths door. And two: the Dean Truby/log book/ Mac Taylor fiasco that Jr could not seem to escape from. His old man just couldn't let it go. He stopped short of calling his flesh and blood a rat, but Jr and everyone else were well aware it's how his father felt.

Biggest bust of your life and it had to be against another cop, Sr had said in disgust on more than one occasion. You must be so proud of yourself.

He wasn't. It bothered the shit out of Flack nearly every day. Almost as bad as it bothered him that his old man never showed up at the hospital to visit him as he lay so close to death. Or even after wards when he was on the slow, painful road to recovery.

Sully was convinced of two things. A: Jr had done the right thing as far as Truby went. The guy was a scumbag, low life dirty cop who brought shame to the department and deserved what he got. More guys should have the balls to do what Jr did. And B: Jr hadn't turned out to be the first class prick his father was. By the Grace of God he was a decent human being who tried damn hard every day to be an even better human being.

"You said four thirty." Sully said and checked his watch. "It's going on ten to five."

"So what?" Flack asked, scrawling his name on the sign in sheet. "I lied."

Sully frowned.

"I got held up at the at women and children's." Flack said. "Then I had a script to pick up and some other things to get."

"What the hell were you doing there? Your girl still not feeling well after all the bullshit that went down on the upper west side?"

Sully had met the tiny, gorgeous brunette CSI a few times. She didn't pass by his end of the station house to often. But he was happy for Flack. The woman was stunningly attractive and from what he'd heard she was ferociously intelligent. And he saw, when Flack had first introduced the new woman in his life to him, the way the two of them looked at each other with complete love and adoration and respect.

"For once, it had nothing to do with what happened." Flack said. "I get any calls?"

"Two. One from some broad named Devon and the other from your old man."

Flack groaned inwardly. His two least favorite people. "What they want?" he asked.

"I just take the messages, Flack. I don't ask questions. Your old man sounded pissed as usual and the broad, well, she just sounded crazy."

"That about sums her up." Flack said.

"You never answered my question. Why were you two up at the hospital? Good news, I hope."

Flack nodded. "Very good news, actually. I'm gonna be a dad."

Sully's eyes widened and a slow smile spread across his face. "No shit?"

"No shit. Went for an ultrasound today and they said she's three months. We got to see the heartbeat and everything. It was amazing." Flack reached inside his jacket and took one of the photos from the pocket and passed it across the desk. "Can't really see much 'cause she's not that far along, but that's the heartbeat that's circled."

Sully grabbed his glasses from on top of a stack of files beside him and slipped them on to see the picture better. "Didn't have these things when Lorraine had Keith and his sister. But Keith got to see it with his kids. Wait until I tell Lorraine about this. That little Donnie Flack's got a kid on the way. She'll be thrilled. Every time she sees your mother she's always asking her when you're gonna find a nice girl and settle down. It's been a while since you stopped by the house. You should come over for dinner and bring your future wife with you."

"I will." Flack promised.

Sully stood up and handed the picture back. "Congratulations, Donnie. Great news. Another cop in the family in about nineteen years."

Flack put the picture back in his pocket. "Yeah? Well some days, I think the kid's better off being the criminal. Hear Gerrard's been looking for me."

Sully nodded and sat back down. "Who the hell does that guy think he is? Who died and made him God? Walks around here intimidating people and talking to them like shit. He was not like that when he was on the streets with me and your old man."

"You know how it goes, Sully. Each promotion you get, the bigger of an asshole you become."

"Hope this is your last promotion then, 'cause your a big enough asshole all ready. How does that nice young thing even put up with you?"

"I'm an angel when it comes to her." Flack declared. "I have to be. She'll kick my ass. She's tiny but she's damn scary. Trust me."

"She's also the best thing that's ever happened to you." Sully pointed out.

Flack couldn't agree more.

* * *

Thankfully, Gerrard had abandoned his 'rake Flack over the coals' plan and had resorted to watching intently from the doorway to his office, as the young detective crossed the bullpen area and headed to his desk. Flack removed his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair before sitting down and getting straight to work. When Flack felt someones eyes on him from across the room, he glanced over and saw Gerrard standing there, staring at him, furious. The old man had his hands planted firmly on his hips and his lips pursed and his eyes blazing.

Flack offered a smile.

Gerrard smirked and his nostrils flared and he stormed into his office and slammed the door so hard the glass rattled.

Flack couldn't help but grin. Sometimes pissing the brass off was too much to resist. He reached over and powered up his computer and grabbed the first file off the pile to his right and flipped it open. He'd found that ever since the Dean Truby thing, he'd been Gerrard and Sinclair's whipping boy. Made even worse when he refused to flip on Mac during the IAB trial following Clay Dobson's death. Truth was, Flack didn't see a damn thing that day and as far as he was concerned, whether Dobson jumped or Mac tossed him, it didn't make a damn bit of difference. Dobson was dead and hopefully in hell where he belonged. In his heart, Flack believed Mac's version of the events, and his loyalty to the man who'd once put his hands in a gaping hole in his stomach to save his life, had earned him no brownie points with the brass.

Not like Flack really gave a shit. It was a job and no more and no less. It wasn't his life. He loved his job and the people he worked with and it paid the bills and would adequately feed a family of three, but it was not the be all and end all. The funny thing was, before Sam, work had been his life. It took his mind off being lonely, especially after the bombing. Now, especially with a baby on the way, he viewed his job as as the way to put a roof over their heads and food on the table and clothes on their backs.

And speaking of roofs. He'd forgotten to call his current landlord and tell him that he'd be leaving in two months. And to ask if maybe he could get away with leaving in one month, even if it meant having to pay the rent on the second month. He picked up the phone on his desk and dialled the number. He had to leave a message and went back to his work.

A shadow fell over his desk and he briefly glanced up.

"Why is it you have this uncanny abiity of irritating the shit out of me?" Flack asked.

"I haven't done anything." Angell replied.

"You don't have to."

"Saw you talking to Sully." Angell said. "What was that you showed him? Homemade porn?"

"Actually, it was an ultrasound picture." Flack said without glancing up from his work.

"Of?"

"Of the baby Sam and I are having."

Angell was stunned. Even more stunned than hearing the news that Flack had gotten engaged. "A baby?" she asked.

Flack nodded.

"As in nine months of pregnancy, the pain and agony of labor and eighteen years of sheer hell?"

"If you want to look at it that way, yeah."

"When did you find this out?"

"Sam took a home test on Sunday and when it came back positive, she made a doctor's appointment."

"So let me get this straight." Angell said. "You, of all people, are going to be a father?"

"You find that so hard to believe?" Flack asked.

"Yeah. Considering all the years we've worked together, you've never had a relationship that's lasted longer than three dates and all of a sudden you're getting married and having a kid."

"First of all, my dating practices are none of your concern, Jess. Second of all, we've only worked together two years. We haven't known each other a long time and we're not even friends. In fact, we haven't even worked together two years 'cause I spent four mounts recovering from the bombing. You were temporarily promoted just to pick up my case load and maybe take my place if I didn't come back. Only I did come back but lucky for you, you're Gerrard's golden child and got promoted anyways. So don't stand there and act like we're buddies. We're co-workers. That's it. And that's all we're ever going to be."

He stressed the words that's it and that's all so she'd get the picture that he wasn't interested then and he wasn't interested now.

"You're still technically single, Flack. And there's lots of guys out there that have kids but don't end up with the mother."

"Well, I'm not one of them." he informed her. "I asked her to marry me before we found out about the baby for sure. I'm not doing it 'cause I feel obligated. I'm doing it 'cause I love her and I want to be with her."

"Still fare game until that ring goes on your finger." Angell told him.

"Sorry. I play by my own rules. And that ring's gonna be there in three months do don't be getting your hopes up. Now do you mind? I have tons of work to do. You seem to have a hell of a lot of time on your hands to be socializing. Need something to do?" he grabbed some of the folders on his desk and held them out to her. "Here. Make yourself useful."

"I'm not your bitch, Flack." Angell retorted. "You want that, go upstairs to the lab and find her."

"Jess, do me a favor? Take a walk. Preferrably off the Brooklyn Bridge."

"You'll regret it, Flack. Trust me."

"No." he said. "I won't. And I don't."

* * *

"Whoa!" Detective Tony Scagnetti exclaimed, a hand clasped over his chest as the vision in ice blue satin glided towards him. "What did a guy like Flack do to deserve someone like you?"

Scagnetti was a twenty year veteran of the force. A tall, burly man with a heart of gold. Sam called him Detective Prada because shortly after she started at the lab, he'd walked into trace carrying a baby pink Prada handbag a uniform had found in a dumpster that they believed belonged to their vic.

He was used to seeing the tiny CSI in casual and business attire, so seeing her all dolled up, old Hollywood glamour like was a welcome and drastic change. The dress shimmered as she walked. Ice blue satin with navy and clear stones on the spaghetti straps and around the slender waist and a small train. The dress boasted a modest, scooped neckline but a dangerously low back. Sparkling barrettes held the hair off the side of her face. A wrap and strappy heels that matched her dress and small navy beaded evening bag completed the look. She carried a suit back and shoe box.

"Quit flirting with my fiancee, Scagnetti." Flack said, as he closed his last file and logged off on his computer. He stood up and stretched until his back and shoulders cracked. "What would your wife say?"

"Never mind my wife." Scagnetti said. "What about all my other girlfriends?"

"You know what they say about men who brag like that." Sam commented. "It means they're not getting any."

Scagnetti grinned. "I hear Donnie's getting enough for both of us. He told me the good news. Congratulations. Can you imagine this shmuck changing dirty diapers and patting up a burp and getting baby puke all down his suit?"

"He'll do fine." Sam said. "He's off to a good start."

"Hey, if you wanted a baby daddy, I would have been more than willing to..."

"I'd keep that comment to yourself, Scagnetti." Flack warned him.

"Just joking. I'm happy for you two. Especially for you, Donnie. Finally found yourself a good woman to take care of you. Congratulations. And you look beautiful tonight, Samantha."

"Thanks. Once in a while, I like to look like a girl."

"Well you clean up good. You're a lucky bastard, Flack. Don't fuck it up."

"Not planning to."

"Night, guys." Scagnetti said as he departed. "Have fun hobnobbing with the mayor."

"Rather gouge my eyes out with a dull spoon!" Sam called after him. She held the shoe box and suit bag out to Flack. "Hurry up. Get dressed before we're late. Carmen and Tim and Mac and Stella are waiting outside in the car. A limo, actually. Mac thought it would be nice."

"He's in a giving mood. Don't I get a hello? A hi, how are you? How was the rest of your day? Something like that?" he put a hand on her hip and leaned down to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hi." she chirped. "How was the rest of your day? Good? Now hurry up and get dressed."

"Do I really have to wear a tux?"

"I didn't go all the way to lower Manhattan to get it and you not wear it. Besides, every guy there will be in a tux. Not to mention Tim will kill you if he has to wear one and you don't."

Flack sighed heavily. "You're demanding."

"Do it or you won't get laid tonight." she said.

"I'm gettin' laid tonight regardless." he told her and took the suit bag and the shoe box from her. "I'll be back. It's not ugly is it? It's not pastel blue with a ruffled shirt or anything is it?"

"Carmen helped pick it out. Trust me, you'll look great. Very James Bond-ish."

He grinned. "Did you just say bondage?" he teased.

"No. I said Bond-ish. James Bond. Just go and get changed all ready."

"Fine. I'll be back." he told her and walked away, heading for the locker room. "By the way," he said and cast a glance at her over her shoulder. "You look incredible." He winked at her.

She smiled and took a seat at his desk while she waited. Passed the time by surfing the Internet on his Blackberry. It was fifteen minutes before he finally came back.

"Wow." she said, nodding approvingly and standing up. "Detective Flack... you're a hottie."

He looked devastatingly handsome. And it was hard to surpass when he was already pretty damn fine to begin with, whether in clothes or out of them. But in the well tailored black European cut tuxedo with a crisp white dress shirt, black onyx button covers, matching cuff links and a simple bow tie, she wanted to say hell with the party and let's just take advantage of the hotel room.

"James Bond enough for you?" Flack asked.

"Very. Spies are very sexy."

"I'll give you credit. It's not bad. I was kinda worried when you said you'd pick it out."

"Hey, I know what my man looks good in." she said and straightened his bow tie. "You look very handsome." she told him and smoothed down the lapels on his jacket.

"Thanks. And you... there are no words for you."

"Check out my rear view." she said and turned to give him a peek.

He swallowed noisily. The damn dress at at the small of her back. That was completely sexy. All that smooth, bare skin on display. The thoughts that were going through his mind at that moment. "I'd like to do things to your rear view." he said.

"Be a good boy tonight and I'll let you do whatever you want to my rear view." she promised.

He grinned. "You're a dirty, dirty girl, Samantha."

"Sometimes." she admitted.

"Not that I'm complaining. You look amazing. And that dress..." he shook his head. "Wow."

"You like?"

"I like. You're beautiful." Laying a hand on the small of her back, he kissed her gently. "Ready?" he asked, offering his arm.

"Absolutely." she said and put her arm through his. "By the way," she said as they headed for the doors. "I took our stuff over to the hotel about an hour ago. It's where I got dressed with Carmen. Anyway, our room is unbelievable. We have this big jacuzzi tub that can fit at least ten people and this massive four poster bed that I swear is twice the size, if not more, of the one at your place. And you know how much I love a large playground."

He grinned. "Well you'll be playing in it a lot later one, trust me."

"I'll hold you to that." she said with her little giggle.

"I hope you do." he told her and bent to kiss the top of her head before using his free hand to push open the door. He noticed she even smelled beautiful. Soft and exotic and oh so feminine.

The night had turned chilly. As they walked to the black limo parked nearby, she shivered and he took off his jacket and draped it over her slender shoulders.

They stopped at the side of the limo. The driver made to get out to open the door, but Flack politely declined and motioned for the man to just stay in the car.

"So if Devon is there tonight, you'll stick up for me against the wicked witch of the west?" Sam asked, her eyes twinkling in the light from the street lamp above them. She was more than capable of sticking up for herself. But part of her was still a damsel in distress that liked a man to take care of her. Spoil her. Protect her.

"Of course." he assured her.

"My hero." she giggled and he kissed her long and soft and warm.

The window next to them was rolled down. Bringing an end to the mini make out session.

"Rent a room, you two!" Stella teased. "Or I'll have to bust you guys for indecent exposure."

Flack grinned and opened the door. He helped Samantha slide in and with the train on her dress and then climbed in beside her.

* * *

"Well hello Miss Bonasera." Flack greeted, checking her out. Her hair pulled back, body on display in a deep burgundy sparkly halter style dress, make up gracing her Greek goddess porcelain features. "And you, too, Miss Devine." he said to Carmen, who looked remarkably like that actress Anne Hathaway in her emerald green strapless to the floor gown and her hair piled on the top of her head, soft curls tumbling down along her face and onto her shoulders.

"Hello yourself, Detective GQ." Stella said. "You polish up nice."

"Thanks. You two ladies look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as that lovely young lady on your arm however." Stella said.

"Yeah... she's something else." Flack declared and leaned sideways to kiss her cheek softly.

"Look at you two." Sam said, nodding at Mac and Speed. "Very, very nice."

"Stella says the look suits me. Very James Bond like." Mac said.

"What is it with you women and James Bond?" Flack asked.

"Spies are sexy." Carmen declared.

Sam nodded. "And that new James Bond? Daniel Craig. Hot. That's all I can say. That scene with him in his bathing suit?"

"Don't get me started." Stella said, fanning herself.

"Excuse me." Flack said. "There's guys in the car here. We don't want to hear this. Keep your sex fantasies to yourselves."

"Or at least share them with us in private later tonight." Mac said.

Sam and Carmen stared at him, mouths open in shock.

"Mac!" Sam exclaimed.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You?" Carmen couldn't believe it. "Talking like that?"

"We're out of the lab." he reasoned. "Time to loosen up a bit. Not to mention Stella is bringing out the lighter, funnier side of me."

"Thank God." Flack said.

"You guys staying over night too?" Stella asked Sam.

She nodded. "We have a room right next door to Carmen and Tim. We can actually go from our bathroom, into theirs."

"Memo to self," Speed said. "Make sure the door is locked. Last thing I want to walk in on is you two in the bathroom doing the nasty."

"That goes both ways." Flack told him. "Bad enough we'll have to listen to all your guys' noises."

Carmen laughed. "This coming from a guy whose fiancee makes enough noises to rival any porn star!"

"Hey," Flack said with a grin. "I take it as a compliment. Means I'm doing something right."

"That bun in the oven says that too." Stella said.

Everyone laughed. Then fell into a comfortable silence.

Ten minutes later they were pulling up in front of the famed Waldorf-Astoria.

"Something tells me we're in for a hell of fun night." Speed commented as everyone began climbing out of the window.

Everyone hoped he was right. God knows they all deserved it.

**Thankies to everyone R and R'ing! Now that my comp. is up and running properly, I can go back to returning mail!!**


	46. When old meets new

**When old meets new**

"Well, I guess I was wrong, I just don't belong  
but then, I've been there before  
everything's all right, I'll just say goodnight  
and I'll show myself to the door  
Hey I didn't mean to cause a big scene  
just give me an hour and then  
well I'll be as high as that ivory tower  
that you're living in."  
-Friends in Low Place, Garth Brooks

* * *

**A/N: Hands up. How many of you were surprised when I skipped a night of updating? LOL!! I am back!**

The 'Orphans of Nine-Eleven' was an annual fundraiser paid for, and hosted by, Mayor David Bloomberg and his council. Each year there was a different theme to the event. Last year was a Victorian thing with rich brocade tablecloths and chair slip covers and flowers and candles as far as the eye could see, everything done up in gold and burgundy and the waiters and waitresses in period costume. The year before that had been a Midsummer Nights Dream thing with the entire ball room done up as if you were in a forest, with flowers in soft pinks and blues and yellows and soft white mini lights strung along the ceiling and covered in soft gossamer fabric.

Flack hadn't gone to either one. But Stella was rambling on about what a great time she'd had at the last two events as the team took the elevator up to the twentieth floor, where the grand ballroom was located in the old, famed, five star hotel. Stella was in to that sort of thing. Dolling herself up in an expensive dress and sipping expensive champagne and mingling with the higher class. She had that kind of confidence in herself. She could blend into any crowd and never feel uncomfortable and remarkably hold her own against those she had nothing in common with. She was all class, all the time. And never let anyone think, or treat her, otherwise. Flack, he was more comfortable at a pub sipping Guinness and shooting pool or just hanging out at home with some take out and beer and watching t.v. in a t-shirt and sweats. Not this formal bullshit, forcing yourself to drink champagne and eat caviar and other things that tasted like crap while listening to people go on and on about what they owned and how much they had invested and how big their trusts funds were. Being dragged along to charity events with Devon had made him realize just how much he preferred being just a regular guy with regular guy problems. And solidified his opinions that rich people were a bunch of ass holes and deserved to be brought down a peg or two.

The event this year had no particular theme other than paying homage to the NYPD and FDNY. The entire place was decorated in various shades of blue and accented with silver. The tables were covered in navy fabrics with silver and lighter blue runners, the chairs boasting silver slip covers. Sparkling crystal stemware and sterling silver cutlery and fine chin sat at each place setting. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers dangled from the ornately carved ceiling and three sets of french doors led out onto the roof top garden/patio that hosted even more tables and chairs underneath white party tents and had delicate white lights strung through the tress and bushes.

Inside there was a classical string quarter and a pianist providing music while the waiters and waitresses in black tie hurried through the large crowd, hands burdened with heavy trays of glasses of champagne and plates of hors' duerves. Along the far wall an appetizer table was set up, along with a display of items that had been donated by local businesses and athletes and celebrities and were to be bid on for a silent auction. All the party goes were garbed in ball gowns and black tie and sparkling jewels.

"Did you see the size of the rocks in that lady's ears?" Sam mumbled to Carmen as an elegantly coiffed woman in a designer dress breezed by them as they waited for Speed and Flack to hand in their invitations. "They could sink the Titanic."

"Are you getting the feeling we are so out of place?" Carmen asked her best friend, who, as far as Carmen was concerned, was hands down the prettiest, best dressed woman in the whole place, pregnant or not. And as she thought that and glanced down at her friend's stomach, she would have sworn she saw a slight baby bump. Has to be my imagination, she thought, but stole another glance.

"Don't even say it, Carmen." Sam sighed, noticing her friend's curious eyes on her stomach.

"That can't possibly be a..."

"Baby bump? The doctor says it's because of how small I am that you can see it all ready. It's actually just the uterus swelling. Not the baby."

"Shit girl, if you're showing now, what will you be like in a few months?"

"Incapacitated. Bed ridden. Unable to move."

"Maybe there's more than one in there and they didn't see it."

Sam looked horrified. "Bite your tongue, Carmen! One baby at a time is enough!"

"Hey, those things have been known to be wrong before. So don't be getting too surprised when you're popping out instead of one."

"Devine." Flack said sternly as he and Speed joined their dates. "Don't even be joking about something like that."

"Come on, Flack," she ribbed him. "Two or three at once and you get all the kids you want at one time. Hey, there's Danny and Erica with Hawkes and Adam."

She waved to the smiling and waving quartet at a table near the back of the room.

Flack had told Samantha earlier about his incident with Danny, although he had left out the disparaging remarks Danny had made about her. And now, as they headed through the crowded ball room, his hand on the small of her back, protectively and lovingly steering the way, he felt a tension creep up in his body at the idea of even being remotely near Danny. Something he'd never experienced in all the years they had been friends.

Samantha sensed that tension, saw it in his face when she glanced over her shoulder to say something. She frowned and stopped walking abruptly. "Are you two going to behave or will I have to separate you?"

"Don't defend him." Flack said. "This is all his fault. He acted like a spoiled rotten little shit. There was no reason for him to react like he did when I told him about the baby."

"I'm not defending him." Sam assured him. "Like I said earlier, he was probably just really surprised and maybe a little jealous that you don't have as much time as you used to for him and he knows you have a lot ahead of you. Maybe he's not used to change so it pisses him off a bit that you're getting a life."

Flack grinned. "You have been spending way too much time at Gus' office. You're starting to sound like a therapist."

"Only stands to reason that he feels left out. You've been around him more than some spouses are around each other. Maybe he feels like a third wheel. You guys are pretty close."

"You are totally making this sound like a gay thing." Flack complained.

"No. I am making this into a best friend thing."

"I just don't get his issue. It's not like he's alone. He's with Erica."

"Maybe he's not sure where that's heading." Sam reasoned. "Or maybe he wants to go the same direction you are and he's afraid to do it. Or he thinks she isn't feeling the same way. Could be a number of things."

"Should I be paying you for this session?" he asked. "You take cash? Credit? Cheque?"

"I'll take favors as a form of payment." she replied.

He grinned. "What kind of favors?"

"The kind that requires us to be alone in that fancy hotel suite you splurged on. Where are you getting all this money from anyway?"

"You can afford anything if you have credit." he told her. "Now can we go and get this night started? 'Cause the sooner it starts, the sooner it's over and we can get up to that fancy hotel suite with the massive bed."

"Say no more." she said and grabbed his hand and practically dragged him to the table.

Erica, looking stunning in a figure hugging, royal blue chiffon gown that made her eyes pop even more than they already did and her blond tresses flowing free and curly, hugged her cousin tightly and kissed her cheek and softly patted her stomach.

"Congratulations, kiddo." she said. "I cried when Don called and told me. I am so happy for you two. And you," she turned to Flack and hugged him as well. "Congratulations again, daddy."

"Thanks." he said and kissed her cheek in gratitude. And saw Danny rolling his eyes and taking a huge swig from a glass of rye.

"You two will be great parents." Erica gushed. "Now let's get this pregnant woman off of her feet!" she exclaimed and grabbed her cousin's wrist and pulled her to an empty chair.

"Doctor Hawkes." Samantha said with an approving nod, checking him out in his tux as she sat down beside him. "You are looking mighty handsome this evening."

"And you," he said, leaning in to give her a sweet, gentlemanly kiss on the cheek. "Look stunning."

"Not you, too." Flack said, unbuttoning his jacket and sitting down between Sam and Erica. "I can't go three feet without someone telling her how great she looks."

"Because she does." Hawkes reasoned. "And you should be grateful she's with you and not one of them."

"Thank you, Doctor Hawkes." Sam said. "He needs to be reminded every once in a while."

"Don't they all?" Erica asked, sipping white wine. "They don't seem to realize just how important we are to them. I mean, who else is going to cook their meals and do their laundry and put out every night."

"Exactly!" Sam agreed. "And pick up their dirty socks and remind them over and over again to put the seat down."

"I only did it once." Flack pointed out. "Once. And I apologized and you still make me pay for it every single day since."

"Small price to pay for making her suffer for the next six months and for God knows how many hours of labor in the end." Erica told him.

"You are so outnumbered." Sam teased Flack and kissed his cheek.

"When I did my L and D rotation, I saw women who screamed like wild banshees through the entire thing, others who barely made a sound, some who only had to go through a couple hours of pushing, and a lot who went through sixteen or more hours." Erica told them.

"That'll be you." Flack said to Sam. "Twenty hours."

"No goddamn way!" she exclaimed. "This kid isn't out in less than eight, I am going for the c-section."

"Don't punk out, Sam." Carmen said. "Come on, you're a brave girl."

Sam laughed. "With an epidural I may be able to handle it. But when the doctor told me today, no epidural, I nearly shit."

"No drugs?" Carmen's eyes widened. "Why?"

"The tattoo on her back." Flack explained. "Right where they give the needle. 'Cause of the dye in the tattoo, the epidural is out of the question."

"Sarge told ya one day you'd regret getting that." Adam piped up from across the table.

"Just for that, Adam," Sam said. "You're coming in the delivery room and you can hold my hand during the worst parts. And I will yell and scream and crush your hand and call you every name in the book. Same way I'm going to be doing all that to Don."

"No way." Adam shook his head vigorously. "I am so not being there when you have that baby. Uh-uh. I am not seeing something like that when it comes to be sister. No way, no how."

"Suck it up, Adam!" Speed said. "Be a man."

"Would you want to watch your sister give birth?" the lab tech asked.

"I don't have a sister." Speed replied.

"Not the point. She's my sister. I don't want to see her... you realize where babies come out of? I don't want to see that!"

"Neither do I." Flack admitted. "But I don't have a choice."

"No" Sam agreed. "You don't. Ya help make it, ya park your ass next to the bed and put up with it. Carmen's coming in, too. You won't be alone through it all."

"Carmen will need to keep Flack calm." Stella laughed. "You know, Flack, I can see you fainting."

"What? Get outta town. I ain't going to faint. Puke maybe. But not faint."

"Let's start a pool." Speed says. "How long it takes Flack to pass out. We each pick a time and put some money down."

Almost in unison, members of the team began standing up and taking out their wallets and dropping money onto the table and announcing their predictions.

"You guys are bastards." Flack declared.

* * *

The team spent some time chatting and sharing stories from their long, tiring day. Danny and Flack spent the entire time going out of their way to ignore each other. Sam even tried to get Danny into a conversation but he only gave one word answers or nods and shakes of his head and she eventually gave up all together and took off with Carmen to go have a peek at the auction items and put down bids of their own. Mac and Stella made the obligatory visit to the Brass table, while Adam, Hawkes, Speed and Flack took off for the bar.

Danny, in a dour mood, stayed behind at the table with Erica, who had wanted to enjoy herself that night but found it nearly impossible with his behaviour. The way he was treating his best friend and her cousin was down right uncomfortable and inexcusable.

And she called him on it.

"What the hell is your issue, Danny?" she asked, not making an attempt to hide the anger and disappointment in her voice.

"What issue?" he retorted.

"Treating Sam and Don like that. It's disgusting. He's your best friend and she's his future wife and she's carrying his child. Not to mention she's my cousin and I love her."

"I just think that they're jumping into things too quick." Danny said. "He's known her for what? Five months? And he's all ready marrying her and he's knocked her up.?"

"First off," Erica said angrily. "There is no set time on when people fall in love. It happens when it happens. Second of all, Samantha and Don are disgustingly happy and everything is coming together for them. And they deserve that. He's been your friend for years, Danny. And you should be happy for him. Can't you see how happy he is? How much he loves her? And how much she loves him?"

Danny sighed and sipped his drink.

"The way you're acting is horrible." Erica continued. "You're acting like some immature, whiny little kid whose jealous of his friend 'cause a girl is taking said friend away from him. Flack's growing up. He's making a life for himself. He can't always be there to hang out and bail you out of trouble. He's getting married. He's having a child. And that's what he wants. You have no right to deny him that. You should be supporting him and Samantha and being there for him for a change. And for you to say the things you did, it's no wonder he didn't knock you out."

"I just wanted him to see that maybe he was making a mistake." Danny said.

"It's not for you to tell him that. It's for him to find out if that's what happens in the grand scheme of things. It's his life, Danny. He's an adult and and he's making adult decisions. And you need to accept that and grow up."

Danny sighed heavily.

The truth hurt.

* * *

Hawkes had seen someone he worked with in the MEs office and ran off to catch up on lost time. Adam had decided he'd already had enough for a little while and retired to his room to hang out and play some video games. Events like this weren't his thing and one look at him told you how uncomfortable and out of place he felt being there. And that he was way out of his element sipping champagne and wearing a tuxedo. With Danny sulking at the table and drowning himself in booze and the Mac and Stella off talking to brass and the girls off doing whatever it was girls did when they went to the bathroom together, it left Speed and Flack at the bar to take their own edges off from being in the last place on earth they wanted to be.

Speed ordered a JD and coke from the harried bartender. Flack asked for a double JD on the rocks.

"Drinking the hard stuff straight up tonight, huh?" Speed commented, as the bartender brought their drinks and Flack tossed some bills on the top of the bar to cover the cost and a generous tip.

"I'm making up for what Sam can't drink." Flack reasoned.

"You must be pretty excited. Wedding and a baby on the way."

Flack nodded and sipped his drink. "Excited and terrified. Hence my need for booze. So what about you? When are you planning on asking Carmen to marry you?"

"When I get up the nerve. And it's not going to be in the bathroom."

"Hey, it just happened that way. Spur of the moment."

"I still need you to come with me though. Seeing as you now have first hand knowledge of engagement rings."

"Hey, I needed Carmen to help me out. You should be asking Sam to go with you. She's good at that type of thing."

"Maybe I will. Didn't want ya freaking on me if I did."

"Why would I do that? You gonna make a move on my fiancee? My pregnant fiancee?"

"Of course not." Speed assured him.

"Then I'd have no reason to freak."

"How'd your double in Queens go today?" Speed asked.

"Still open. No solid leads, barely any evidence. Unreliable or unwilling witnesses. You know, same shit, different day. How'd your Hudson floater turn out?"

"Turned out he died of natural causes. Hammerbeck opened him and found he'd had a massive heart attack. I traced some biologicals back to a woman in CODIS. For prostitution. Turns out, my guy was in the midst of having sex with her and he keeled over. The hooker panicked, called her pimp and the two of them dumped the body. No homicide."

"At least the guy went happy." Flack said. "Personally, I'd like to go just like that or while I'm sleeping."

Speed was just about to say something else, when out of the corner of his eye, he was a tall, slender red head in a figure hugging shimmering silver dress that was way too short and tight to be considered legal. She was striding towards the bar determinedly. A woman on a mission. And before he could even form a single word, said woman was wrapping her arms around the homicide detective from behind.

What the fuck... Speed thought. Then realized Flack thought it was Sam when he smiled and rubbed the woman's arms.

"Miss me?" she asked in Flack's ear.

Speed had never seen a guy move that quick to get away from a woman. Flack grabbed a hold of the woman's wrists and turned around and pushed her away none to gently.

"Don... you haven't been returning my calls."

"I wasn't planning to. I thought you'd take the hint."

"I thought you were just playing hard to get." she moved closer to him and lay her hands on his chest before slipping them down onto his stomach.

"Well I wasn't." he said angrily and grabbed her hands and removed them.

"He isn't interested." Speed said. "Take a hike."

Devon looked at him. Smiling when she liked what she saw. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm not interested either." Speed replied.

"Devon, this is Detective Tim Speedle." Flack introduced. "He's a CSI. Speed, this is Devon."

The crazy one, he mouthed over Devon's head.

"A pleasure." Devon purred to Speed as she shook his politely outstretched hand. She turned back to Flack. "I missed you, Don." she said. "Really, really, really missed you." she wet her top lip with the tip of her tongue.

"Good for you." he said downing his drink, signalling to the bartender for another one and setting the glass down on the top of the bar. "Now get lost."

"Didn't you miss me?" she pouted. "You must have missed me."

"Actually," he said. "No. I didn't. Not one bit. Now leave me alone."

"And make it quick." Speed added. "'Cause here come Sam and Carmen. And Carmen looks ready to rumble."

"Devon," Flack spoke more intently. "Seriously, you better go."

"Tell you what." she said. "I have a suite just below here. 1902. Why don't you meet me there in half an hour and we get reacquainted?"

"Tell you what," Flack retorted. "Go and find some other poor blue collar guy to get fucked by and leave me alone."

"Come on, Don," she persisted. "You know you'll never have it that good again."

Speed snorted. "That's funny. He told me it was like fucking a corpse."

Devon frowned and shot daggers at Flack. "You actually..."

Carmen interrupted the socialite's sentence by jabbing her finger into the woman's shoulder.

Devon spun around. Gave Carmen a none to friendly once over. "Can I help you?" she asked snottily.

"Yeah." Carmen said. "You can start by telling me who the hell you are."

Speed stepped over to Carmen's side and laid a hand on her shoulder. He knew full well the lengths she would go to to protect Samantha. With those two women, their friendship and loyalty knew no bounds.

"Take it easy, Red." he said calmly.

Sam stepped closer to Devon. "So you're the bitch that's been calling me a hundred times a day!"

Flack moved to Sam's side and put his hand on the small of her back. Last thing he needed or wanted was stress with someone like Devon causing Sam any problems with her pregnancy. There was no way in hell anyone or anything was putting her or his baby at risk.

"Calm down, okay?" he rubbed Sam's back softly. "I don't want you getting upset. She was just leaving."

"She better leave." Carmen warned, looking right at Devon.

"What are you going to do if I don't?" Devon challenged. "Arrest me?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of kicking your ass!" Carmen replied.

"Easy..." Speed played peacemaker. "Easy..."

"Devon, just go." Flack all but ordered her.

The tall red head stared Sam down, expecting to instill a little fear and intimidation into the tiny brunette. "So you're the fiancee?"

"And your the rich skank?" Sam retaliated.

Devon snorted and looked at Flack. "You would turn down someone like me to be with someone like her? A cop of all things? A cop as opposed to this?" she gestured to her body. "How could you choose that over this?"

"Listen you fucking bitch..." Sam began and got right into Devon's face.

Flack stepped in between the two women. Facing Devon. "This woman," he began, struggling to remain calm. "is the love of my life and she's more beautiful and intelligent and classy than you could ever hope to be. You we're a fuck. That's it. Something to take my mind off of how shitty my life was. Only now my life isn't shitty anymore. I'm getting married, I'm having a kid..."

"A kid?" Devon asked. "Thought you didn't want kids? That's what you told me."

"I meant I didn't want kids with someone like you." Flack corrected her. "So do me a favor and find some other poor cop bastard to sink your claws into and brag about it afterwards to all your little friends like you did with me. I ain't your goddamn fuck buddy or your trophy to parade around. And there's lots of New York's finest for you to bang."

"You don't mean all this, Don." Devon seemed genuinely hurt.

"Yeah, I do. Leave me alone. Stop calling me at home, stop calling me at work and stop calling my cell. If I get any more calls from you or you keep calling my fiancee, I'll slap a restraining order on your ass. And daddy wouldn't be too happy seeing an order of protection against his princess, would he?"

Stella stepped up beside Flack. "Get lost, Devon. You heard him. He doesn't want you bothering him."

Devon was fuming. And defeated knowing she was outnumbered. "You'll regret this, Don." she hissed at him. "You'll wake up one morning and regret this!"

"No." he said. "I won't"

"You loose, Devon." Stella told the younger woman. "Plain and simple. Now do us all a favor and take your hideous dress and your gold card with daddy's name on it and get the hell out of here."

Devon gave Flack an icy glare as she pushed past him. "Bitch." she said in passing to Samantha.

"Who the hell are you calling a bitch, slut?" Carmen stepped in Devon's path. "I've kicked bigger ass than you're so bring it, bitch."

Speed grabbed her arm. "Okay...let it go...just let it go..."

"I will not let it go!" she exclaimed and started after Devon. Speed followed behind in case he needed to play referee.

* * *

"Boy!" Stella clapped her hands together and turned to Sam and Flack. "That felt so good. I've wanted to do that for so long. Since the day I first met that little whore. I'm sorry, Flack, but how does a guy like you, end up with a woman like that? You have horrible taste in women. Present company excluded of course."

"It was stupidity, Stell." Flack replied. "Sheer stupidity."

"I need a drink." Stella declared. "Time to have some fun. Sam? Drink?"

Flack cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

Stella slapped her forehead. "Shit! Of course! Sorry! Takes some time getting used to! Sparkling water for mommy and for daddy, a JD and coke. A triple, right?"

"Double." Flack corrected her.

"Hell, make it a triple!" Stella laughed. "You deserve it!" she headed for the bar where Mac was with Hawkes and Danny and Erica.

"Well?" Flack asked Sam as he took her hand and followed Stella. "Did I say enough? Too little? Too much?"

"What you said was perfect." she replied. "Thank you. You really are my hero tonight."

"Just tonight?" he asked playfully.

"All the time." she assured him.

"What can I say? I have a weakness for damsels in distress. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I was madly in love with you the moment I met you."

"Lust you mean." Sam laughed. "You were in lust with me."

"Okay. At first it was lust." Flack admitted. "But that first time I kissed you, and I mean really kissed you, I was gone."

She smiled up at him.

He stopped walking and bent down to kiss her. Long and soft. "We've come a long way in a short time." he said as they joined the others at the bar.

"Well," Speed said, sliding in between Flack and Hawkes. "I managed to stop Carmen from going all Mike Tyson on Devon in the lobby."

Sam sipped a wine glass of cider passed her way. "I prefer Oscar Dela Hoya. He's much cuter." she said.

Danny squeezed his way between Flack and Speed. Flack looked a little surprised. Expecting another confrontation and not in the mood for it.

"You like the big tough guys, Brooklyn?" Danny asked. "Why you with Flack then?"

"Fuck you, Messer." Flack chuckled. "Whose the one that ran into that warehouse to save your scrawny ass?"

"You kicked some serious Irish cartel ass that day." Danny said "You're my boy. You know that." he planted a kiss on Flack's cheek.

"Messer, do that again and I will take you outside and lay a beating on you far worse than the one you got that day." Flack warned lightheartedly.

"You know I love you, Flack." Danny continued, rubbing the back of the detective's head playfully. "I'd be miserable without you."

"Of course you would. Who'd be around to bail your ass out with Mac?"

"You know I'd miss your smart mouth and your lovely blue eyes." Danny said,

"Messer, I swear, I will knock you right out." Flack declared, laughing.

Danny suddenly turned serious. He laid a hand on Flack's shoulder. "You're my boy, Don." he said.

"You're my boy, too, Danny." Flack said sincerely in return.

Nothing more needed to be said.

**Okay. I hope the reviews have slowed down only because it's exam week and all! Thanks to all of you still reading and enjoying. And reviewing. Hopefully my comp. probs will be solved in a matter of days!**

**Ciao.**


	47. The night is young

**The night is young**

**WARNING: THIS IS RATED M FOLKS. AND IS DEDICATED TO ALL MY FAITHFUL. Y'ALL KNOW WHO YOU ARE! LOL!**

"Can I get my hands on you tonight  
(I must be feeling something)  
Some thing tells me I'm in for a ride  
(I wonder if you see me coming)  
Can I get my hands on you tonight  
(Tonight night has got me running)  
Something tells me I'm in for a ride  
(Right into your nighttime world)"  
-Nite-Runner, Duran-Duran

* * *

It was shortly after midnight. While the rest of the team lingered at the ball, pounding back more booze than actual lingering -"We are all alcoholics" Flack had announced, slurring slightly, and drinking JD as if it was nothing more potent than water, - Speed and Carmen had called it a night and went downstairs and out back for some fresh air. Surprisingly, the temperature had seemed to have gone up within the last few hours. The wind had died down and stars sparkled in the black velvet sky. As they walked the gardens hand in hand, chatting about nothing in particular, just enjoying each others company, Carmen snuggled into the tux jacket draped over her shoulders. She didn't really need it to keep warm, but Tim's smell was on it and that was a smell she never tired of. And she hoped she never did.

They paused at the locked pool area at the far end of the garden. The water was illuminated from underneath with a white spotlight and the slight breeze was causing it to ripple slightly. It looked cool and refreshing and welcoming.

"Wanna head upstairs now?" Speed asked, pulling her in the direction of the hotel.

"Actually," Carmen's eyes glittered mischievously. "I want to go swimming."

"Pool's closed." Speed stated the obvious.

"So? Know how to pick a lock?"

"I do."

She smiled.

"What do I pick it with?" he asked. "I left my B and E tools in my other pants."

She removed a bobby pin from her hair and used her teeth to straighten it. "This work?" she asked, handing it to him.

He sighed and took the object from her. "If we get caught doing this, you can explain it to Mac." he said.

"It's more Chief Sinclair I worry about." Carmen admitted, looking over his shoulder as he pushed the end of the bobby pin into the lock and began jiggling it around. "You'd never be a good burglar if it takes you this long." she complained.

"Thought you liked it when I went slow? Took my time?" he teased, smiling at her over his shoulder.

She kissed him deeply. "Hurry up!" she urged. "Before someone does see!"

Within minutes he had the lock popped open and was pushing the heavy gate ajar, trying not to make too much noise as they sneaked through. Carmen immediately went to the cabana. It was unlocked and she let herself in, emerging a couple minutes later with an armful of towels that she dropped on one of the lounge chairs.

"Want me to run up and grab your bathing suit?" Speed offered.

"No." she simply replied and reached around herself to unzip her dress and let it fall to her ankles, a puddle of satin at her feet. She stepped out of it, tossed it onto the chair.

"You're insane." he declared, not believing his eyes as she, without any inhibitions, began to remove her strapless bra, underwear and shoes. "Someone is going to see."

"No one is going to see." she assured him. "Its secluded and dark as hell back here. No one even knows we're here. Now...you're turn." she stepped over to him and began undressing him. Taking off the bow tie first and then unbuttoning his shirt.

"I don't think this is a good idea." Speed said.

"Suddenly you're shy?" she asked, tugging the shirt off of him and going for his bet buckle.

"I'm just not much of an exhibitionist." he replied. But not resisting either as she removed his clothing.

"No one will see." she promised. "Trust me. Besides, all that champagne has made me so horney."

He pushed her hands away and quickly got rid of the rest of his clothes. "Why didn't you just come out and say that?" he asked.

Carmen looked down at his groin. She grinned broadly. "Apparently all the rye and cokes have done the same thing for you that the champagne did to me."

He smirked, grabbed her by the hips and yanked her towards him and kissed her roughly.

She giggled and wriggled away him and jumped into the water. "Beautiful in here!" she called to him. "You should really come in. That is if you want to pick up where we left off!"

He dove into the water and went after her. She played hard to get for a while, always squirming out of his grasp when he caught her and laughing in her silly little tipsy way and wagging a finger at him as if to say 'not yet'. Teasing him. Finally he got a firm hold on her ankle and yanked her back towards him, spun her around and kissed her demandingly, backing her up against the side of the pool and holding her there with his weight.

Carmen's hands roamed his firm, muscular body, sighing as his lips made their way to her neck and his one hand squeezed and fondled her ass and the other dipped between her legs to seek, and easily find, her clit. Moaning loudly as he quickly, unceremoniously, slipped two fingers deep inside of her. He kissed her as his thumb sought out her clit to stroke it softly.

She groaned into his mouth and slid her hands down his chest and then his stomach to stroke his erection. "Please..." she pleaded, when his lips began teasing the hallow of her throat. "Tim...don't make me wait... I can't wait..."

Speed removed his fingers and stopped stroking her and pushed her hands off of him. "Can't use a condom in the water." he said, torn between just wanting to give her what she wanted - what they both wanted for that matter- and doing the more sensible thing and insisting they go upstairs and use the proper precautions.

"You were serious, about what you said a few days ago?" Carmen asked, her body aching for him. "About getting married? Having babies?"

"Of course I was. I wouldn't lie or joke about stuff like that. I love you, Carmen. So much it's like I can't even breathe or function properly."

She smiled and kissed him, long and deep. "I love you, Tim." she whispered against his lips. "Make love to me."

He kissed her in return, his tongue finding hers, and he took a hold of her leg and placed it over his hip and thrust into her warm, welcoming body. Moaning into her mouth at the sensation of being inside of her

She raked her nails across his shoulders, ran her hands up the back of her neck and into his thick dark hair. Tightened her grip on him as he moved at a fast, almost rough pace. He wasn't going to last long. Neither was she. They both knew it. The excitement of being in an unforbidden place adding to their arousal.

He reached between them to stroked her clit. It took only a few soft strokes before she was coming, digging her nails into the back of his neck and moaning into his shoulder, trying her best to reign in her cries of pleasure. Her muscles contracting around him pushed him quickly over the edge and his lips fastened onto her supple neck, moaning her name into her skin.

It took several long minutes before they were able to compose themselves, to let their bodies gradually come down of the high. He slowly pulled out of her, then leaned in to kiss her.

"Bed is looking mighty good to me right now." he said.

Carmen pouted. "I'm not tired. I don't want to go to sleep."

Speed grinned. "Who said anything about sleeping?"

* * *

Half hour after Carmen and Tim had called it quits and left the ball, Samantha had had enough. Tired of the mingling with the brass that wouldn't even spit in your direction let alone carry on a conversation with you if you were out in the field or at the lab. And bored to death of the politicians that talked your ear off, only interested really in scoring your vote in the next election. By the time twelve thirty rolled around, she was physically tired as well and just wanted to go to the room and relax. Have some alone time with Flack. Which in the past three days hadn't happened as often as they both would have liked.

And with the amount of alcohol he had consumed, it didn't look like the rest of her night was too promising. It was surprising that he could talk properly or even walk a straight line.

"You have an okay time?" he asked, as they headed for the elevators hand in hand, carrying her shoes for her in his free hand.

"Other than running into your ex?" she inquired.

"Let's pretend that never happened." he said with a sigh.

"It was all right." she said with a shrug. "The highlight was seeing you in a tux."

"You were that bored, huh? You looked bored. Why didn't you say something? We could have left hours ago."

"You were hanging out with Danny and Tim and Hawkes. Didn't want to interrupt your guy time. Besides, I was content just looking at you in your tux. Be careful or I might make you wear it when we get married."

"Wait a sec. We agreed a J.P. with five, six people there. Christmas Eve. And you also said I just have to wear a suit and a tie. And to make sure I shaved and got a hair cut. This tux thing is a one time only deal. Next year I heard we're going back to wearing dress blues. The guys anyway."

She smiled. "Even better. I bet you look damn fine in yours." she yawned noisily. "And you're right. I was bored. Horribly bored. I should have went to Adam's room and played X-Box with him. He was smart enough to bring it. I could only handle so much chatting with the brass. Especially the way Gerrard was so off hand and snarky with me. And did you see his face when you told his wife we were getting married and having a baby? Did you not tell him either of these things before tonight?"

"I was waiting for the perfect moment. Seeing him nearly have a stroke was that moment. That was worth getting dressed up for." Flack pressed the down button for the elevator.

Sam laughed. "I think you turned the rest of his hair grey with that announcement. But a congratulations would have been nice."

"Would have been." Flack agreed. "But I didn't expect it. It's the way he is. He's been like that since he worked with my dad. An asshole."

"Your dad must have rubbed off on him." Sam blinked when those words came out of her mouth. "I should not have said that." she said regretfully. "I'm sorry, Donnie."

"For what?"

"I haven't even met the man. I shouldn't say things like that about him."

"Why? He's going to be your father in law. And he is an asshole. Which is why I am not looking forward to going there on Sunday."

The elevator arrived promptly and they stepped out. They were the only occupants.

"What floor are we on again?" he asked, pausing before pressing any buttons.

"Ninth." Sam pressed the button for him. "You're half in the bag, aren't you?"

"Nah." he said.

She arched an eyebrow.

"More like three quarters." he admitted.

"Lucky me." she sighed.

"For what's it worth," Flack said. "I was pretty damn bored, too. I woulda much rather just hung out in the room eating room service and watching t.v."

"Yeah. That is so not what we would have been doing." Sam laughed.

He grinned. "Been a long three days." he said.

"Yes." she sighed. "It has. And now you're drunk and the only thing you'll be doing in bed is passing out."

"I am not drunk and you are so wrong."

"We'll see." Sam said. "You know what being here tonight made me realize? That I am perfectly happy with the life I have. I don't need loads of money or fancy house or all kinds of jewellery and a Bentley. I love what I have. What we have. Would you ever want to live like that?"

"No way. Too boring. We're not like those people. Thank God. Only nice thing would be to have enough money for us to live comfortably and not have to live pay cheque to pay cheque and rely on credit. Give our kids whatever they want. Within reason."

"Kids?" she asked.

"More than one would be nice." he said.

"We haven't even had this one yet. Let me see how bad labor is and I'll get back to you on having more. Just how many do you want?"

"I don't know. Starting line up for a hockey team."

"Six!" she exclaimed. "Six?! Are you insane? I am not getting pregnant six times! The only way you're getting six kids is if we have sextuplets, two sets of triplets or three sets of twins. Tell you what, I'll go with three or four."

"Five."

"Four."

"Four's good. I can handle four. But let's just concentrate on this one." he reached over and patted her stomach gently. "You do have a little baby bump goin' on there." he said with a grin.

She slapped his stomach. "I do not!"

"You do. I find it sexy. Everything about you is sexy. All night long, all I wanted to do was drag you downstairs and fuck the shit out of you."

"Well all you had to do was say the word." she informed him.

"Yeah? You know what I want to do right now?"

"What's that?" she asked.

He smiled. Dropped her shoes on the floor and grabbed her, a hand on the back of her neck as he pulled her into him and kissed her. His lips and his tongue demanding. Backing her up against the wall of the elevator, holding her there with his weight, his lips travelling to her ear and then down onto her neck, sucking and kissing and licking her soft skin. He reached out with his free hand and hit the stop button.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked, aroused yet still a little alarmed.

"Something I've been wanting to do all night." he replied.

"You can't wait until we get to the room?"

"Nope. I can't." he said and dropped to his knees and hiked her dress up. He kissed her through her panties, tracing her clit with his tongue.

She gave a small cry at the sensation. Her legs opened farther, she buried her hands in his hair. He yanked her panties down and off. Kissed his way from the back of her calf to the inside of her thigh and then even higher. Teasing her lips and her throbbing clit with his fingers, listening to her soft panting. He slipped a finger inside of her warm, wet body, as far as it could go, and she moaned and clutched at his shoulders. He added a second finger, thrusting them in and out of her, slow and deep, then kissed the sensitive spot above her mound before pressing his tongue to her clit.

She moaned his name. Begged him not to stop. Her hands on the back of his head holding him where he was. He licked and sucked at her clit, fingering her at the same time, bringing her closer and closer. The sweet taste of her on his tongue and lips. He had an aching, throbbing hard on but was determined to get her off and then worry about himself once they got to the room. He found her g-spot with his fingers, pushing on it and rubbing firmly, his tongue lapping at her slowly, agonizingly.

She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. She was close. So close. Only a few more strokes of his tongue and his fingers on that magic spot and...

The emergency phone began to ring.

"Hope there's not a camera in here." Flack said, removing his fingers from inside of her and sitting back on his heels.

"What are you doing?" she nearly wailed. "Don't stop! I can't believe you stopped!"

"I gotta answer it. I don't answer it and they're sending someone up here to check on us. You're gonna have to wait a couple minutes."

"I can't!" she cried.

Flack grabbed the phone. "Hello?" he answered. "Yeah...we're fine...drunk guy in here passed out and hit stop on the way down and we got busy looking after him and didn't think about starting it again. No, we don't need any help...everything's under control... all right, thanks." he hung up.

Samantha was grabbing her underwear to put back on.

"What are you doing?" Flack asked. "I'm not done."

"I think we should...'

He grabbed her by the hips and pushed her back against the wall again and lifted her dress with one hand and went back to work. Her nerves were all ready on edge and it only took a few minutes of aggressive tongue work on her clit and she came powerfully, screaming his name. He waited until her body stopped quivering completely before pressing a kiss to her aching clit and then helping her back into her panties and lowering her dress. He smiled at her as he stood up.

"Now I'm done." he said, hitting the stop button to re-start the elevator.

"I'm not." she said and grabbed him by the front of the shirt and yanked him down for a smouldering kiss. "So you better have a lot of stamina."

* * *

The room was dark and quiet. Quite the change from half an hour ago. But now, with just the moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains, they were both silent. Their bodies drenched in sweat and completely and utterly spent. How long they actually lay there for neither of them knew. All they were aware of was the feel of eachother's bodies and the pounding of their hearts. Lying on their sides, arms and legs entangled.

"Don?" she asked, running her hands over his shoulders and down his back.

"Yeah?"

"Are you awake?"

"Did I not just answer you?"

She pinched his side.

"Owww! Yeah, I'm awake. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She sighed contently. "I'm perfect." she declared.

"I didn't hurt you?"

"No. You were amazing. In every sense of the word."

"You weren't so bad either."

"I wasn't so bad?" she laughed. "That's all you can say?"

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

She pushed him away and he grabbed her and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

"How about baby, you are fucking incredible and you blow my mind." she said, straddling his stomach.

"Baby," he ran a hand down her back and over her ass and around and down her thigh to her knee. "You were fucking amazing and you blew my mind. I've honestly never had sex as amazing as it is with you. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"That's much better." she said and leaned down to kiss him. "I'll be back."

She climbed off of him, leaned over to flick on the bedside lamp, then slid off the bed. He watched her as she crossed the room and scooped up his shirt and slipped into it.

"Baby, when you wear my clothes it drives me insane." Flack said

"Why do you think I do it?" she asked with a grin and disappeared into the washroom. After a few minutes she called out to him. "You really need so see this bathroom!"

"It's a bathroom. What's there to see?"

"This is not an ordinary bathroom. Everything is automatic. You stand up, the toilet flushes. Put your hand under the faucet and the water turns on. Close the shower door and the glass frosts up. And the tub! The tub is one of those infinity ones where you can fil it to the top and if it over flows it goes into a special liner to drain! And the hot tub fits at least ten!"

"No hot tubs." Flack said. "The doctor said no hot tubs. Too dangerous to the baby."

"I know. And there's tons of candles in here!"

"I know what you're going to say next."

"Well it is romantic." she reasoned. "And you did promise me romance tonight."

"I can do the bath thing. Just no bubbles."

"The bath beads smell like roses!"

"Don't even think about it, Samantha. Last thing I want to smell like is roses."

"I don't want you smelling like them either. I like men that smell like men. On the other hand, it is okay to be metro-sexual once in a while."

He shook his head. "I will pretend you never said that."

"Nothing wrong with a guy that gets pedicures and manicures." she said. "It's when they start shaving body hair off and wearing eye liner and mascara and nail polish that I worry."

"Well you never have to worry about that." he assured her. "I have no desire to shave my chest or my arms or my legs or wear makeup."

"Good. You're a man's man, Don. Just the type I like. But I warn you, if I ever come home and you're wearing my underwear..."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Just a warning. In case you ever feel the urge to see what a black lace thong feels like."

"Never gonna happen. And even if it did, your underwear would never fit. You're like eighty pounds lighter than me."

"True." she journeyed out of the bathroom. "See what I bought for you today?" she asked as she approached the bed.

"What's that?" he sat up and looked. She was standing by the end of the bed in a light pink satin spaghetti strapped nightie that stopped just above her knees and had a generous neckline trimmed with lace. "Whoa..." he said approvingly. "Where'd you get that?"

"Victoria's Secret. Carmen and I stopped in over lunch. Let's just say you and Tim should be very, very happy men."

"I can't speak for Speed, but I am very, very, very, very happy. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. Amazing."

She smiled. "Even comes with a robe and matching undies." she lifted the hem of the nightie and twirled around to give him a few of the thong panties.

He swallowed noisily. "Sweetie, you honestly have the most amazing ass I've ever seen." he told her.

She climbed onto the bed and kissed him. "Do you remember how I said if you were a good boy I'd let you do your thing, within reason?"

"I remember." he said, hard all ready.

"Well guess what?" she kissed him again and reached down to fondle his cock. "You were a very, very good boy."

**Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing. And to all the lurkers out there, please review! It means a lot.**


	48. What happens in the hours after

**What happens in the hours after**

**Okay, I had to give this an M rating because of a small part at the beginning**

"And if I need anything at all  
I need a place that's hidden in the deep  
where lonely angels sing you to your sleep  
though all the world is broken  
I need a place where I can make my bed  
a lover's lap where I can lay my head  
'cause now the world is spinning  
the day's just beginning"  
-Atlantic, Keane

A/N: Thanks to Mauveine for this song! Ironically, this was the song that played at the end of Consequences in Season Three

* * *

The room was bathed in rays of warm sunlight. A cool, refreshing breeze wafting through the open window. Flack's eyes opened slowly, trying to adjust to the shards of light falling on the bed. In his semi-awake, slightly hung over state, he saw the unfamiliar bed and walls surrounding him and wondered where the hell he was. He lay there for several long minutes, on his back, a forearm over his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts and get rid of the cobwebs in his brain. When his normal thought process and realization of where he was returned, he sighed heavily, rubbed at his throbbing temples and checked his watch. It was just after nine thirty. He wondered why the hell he'd woken up so early when they had another night at the hotel booked and didn't have to worry about check out until tomorrow. he yawned noisily and rolled over onto his left side, reaching for the warm, welcoming body beside him. Only all his hand found was cold sheets and an empty pillow.

His eyes snapped open and he sat up. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he looked around the spacious, opulent room. Samantha was at the picture window with her back towards him, clad in her robe and nightie.

"You okay?" he asked softly, so as not to startle her. "Why are you up?"

"I felt a little sick and needed some air." she replied.

"You okay now?" he asked with concern. "Did you throw up?"

"No. I just felt like I might. I'm okay now, though. I'm just getting some air and checking out the view."

"You're from New York and you still like checking out the view?" he asked, finding something so innocent and naive about that idea.

"I never get tired of it." she said. "And I was gone for a long time, remember?"

"I can't help but think if you never went to Arizona you would have ended up with the NYPD and working for Mac from the get go and we would have met a lot sooner. Who knows where we'd be now if we'd met a long time ago."

She'd thought about that a few times herself. How if she'd only gone to school in New York like she had originally wanted, she would have prevented a lot of heartache in her life. Started things off on the right foot working for the best lab in the country and meeting the man of her dreams before Zack had managed to take away any faith she had in men. But thinking about it and wishing for what could have been didn't change what was going on now. Now she was happy and in love and established in her career and the past didn't matter. And she found solace in the fact that Zack was dead. As awful as that no doubt made her sound.

"Who says I would have liked you back then?" she asked playfully, glancing over her shoulder as he slipped out of bed and into his boxers.

"You would have." he replied confidently and joined her at the window, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing the side of her head.

"I don't know about that. I heard you had long hair a few years ago. I don't like guys with long hair. I like guys who look like guys."

"It wasn't that long. And you would have liked me. I still had the blue eyes and we both know that's what you love the most."

"True." she giggled and he nuzzled the side of her neck.

"And it could have been me that didn't like you back then." he pointed out.

"I doubt that. What's there not to like?"

"Absolutely nothing." he concluded and kissed her cheek. "Good morning." he said.

She leaned her head back against him. "Good morning." she returned.

"Did you sleep good?"

"I wouldn't call it sleeping." she said with a bright smile. "Not much sleeping went on last night."

He smiled as well and lay his hand on her lower stomach. Somewhere in there, growing and thriving was their baby. Someone they had created together. And it was an amazing feeling. "You're feeling okay?" he asked. "No puking or dizziness or anything?'

"You're paranoid, Don."

He rubbed her tummy lightly. "I just don't want anything bad happening." he reasoned.

"I know. But I actually feel really good this morning. Considering how shitty I have been feeling."

"You can argue with me all you want, but you are getting a belly all ready."

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised. Especially with the father being as big as he is. Kid's probably going to be twelve pounds when he's born."

"He? You keep saying he all the time. You think it's going to be a boy?"

"I want it to be a boy." she admitted.

"I just want it to be healthy and have ten fingers and ten toes and everything where it should be. But a boy would be nice. First born being a son. What guy doesn't want that?"

"A Donald the third?" she asked.

"What is wrong with you? No. Hell no. That'd be torture. I'm not out to punish my kid."

"Middle name?"

"Not even the middle name."

"Third name?" she tried.

"How many named do you want this kid to have?" Flack asked.

"I just think we should have your name in there somewhere." she replied. "You are the father. It would make me happy. You want me to be happy, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

His hands ran down her stomach and around to her hips and lower. His fingertips pushing up the bottom of her robe and her nightie and drifting lightly along her bare skin. He felt the goosebumps that over took her body and heard the sharp intake of breath she gave. It was amazing that she was always so responsive. And that it seemed she was even more so in the last couple of months. His lips were against her ear. "I know how to make you happy." he said.

She shivered. "Think so, do you?"

"Mm-hm." he replied, nuzzling the side of her neck and then the sensitive back part, just under her hairline. He kissed and sucked lightly at the soft skin. Ran his hand up underneath her nightie and onto her stomach, pulling her back against him, his erection pressing into her.

"You're very excited this morning." she said and rubbed her ass against him.

"I'm like this every morning. You know that. It's a guy thing. Go to bed horny, wake up horny. And you are just so fucking sexy."

One of his hands slid up to cup her breast and play with the nipple that was all ready rock hard and begging for attention. The other hand slid down, his fingers delving between her legs to find her clit, his lips on the back of her neck. He rubbed her clit in slow, lazy circles. She was all ready wet. Her moisture bathing his fingers. She moaned and closed her eyes and leaned her head back against her chest.

"Feel good?" he asked against her ear.

"So good." she breathed and opened her legs to give him better access.

He slipped two fingers inside of her and used his thumb on her clit while thrusting his fingers in and out of her at slow pace, deep inside of her. Her moans were picking up in intensity and volume. He knew it meant she was getting close. He increased the pace of the fingers inside of her, stroked her clit faster and harder, squeezed her nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger and licking and sucking at the back of her neck, biting it lightly. That small bite sent her over the edge and she orgasmed with a loud, long moan, her muscles contracting around his fingers.

He needed to be inside of her. Now. Hearing her noises, feeling her come like that around his fingers, made him even harder, almost to the point of being excruciating. He yanked his boxers off, put her hands on the window and spread her legs more. Pulled her nightie up. He positioned his cock, all ready leaking pre-cum, at her entrance. She thrust her ass back at him and he pulled back a bit. Teasing her by rubbing the tip of his cock against her opening until she was whimpering.

"Please..." she begged. "Don...please..."

"Just lean forward a little bit and keep your hands where they are...you okay?"

She nodded.

He re-positioned himself at her entrance again and taking her by the hips, eased into her inch by inch. Driving her crazy. Pushing her closer to the window.

"I don't want you to move." he said. "I wanna do all the work. Okay?"

"Okay." she agreed.

He pulled out until just the head remained inside, the thrust back inside quickly. She moaned, leaned her head back against him once more. He moved at a slow, gentle pace, reaching around to play with her clit again. That aroused, he knew he wouldn't last long. And he didn't want to. He felt the familiar tension in his lower back and stomach and moved faster and harder, one hand coming up to fondle her breasts. His fingers on her clit bringing her closer to a second orgasm. Her noises became louder and more insistent, spurring him on, and he pounded into her and rubbed her clit and she came forcefully, screaming his name. He thrust through the tightness of her contracting muscles. Feeling her orgasm around his cock bringing on his own release. Her name was on his lips as he came hot and deep inside of her.

Her body tingled from head to toe. Her breathing was ragged. She shivered at the touch of his lips on the back of her neck and across her shoulders. He ran a hand over her hips and down onto her thighs, pulling out of her slowly and then fixing her nightie.

He kissed her ear. "Let's go back to bed." he suggested. "Stay there all day."

"You do have a lot of stamina these last couple of days." she said.

"It's you, Samantha. All you. You do this to me. You're so beautiful and you drive me crazy and I can't get enough of you."

She smiled.

"You'll never know how much I love you."

She smiled and turned around and looked up at him. "Why don't you take me back to bed and try showing me?" she asked.

Who was he to say no?

* * *

After two hours of slow, intense and consistent love making, they ordered breakfast from room service and ate it in the middle of their rumpled bed, then had a warm, relaxing bubble bath that had to be repeated when things turned hot and heavy the first time. Flack passed out the second he lied down, spent from the morning's activities and lulled into sleep by the hot water. Samantha got dressed, frowning when she realized that the Tommy Girl jeans she had just bought less than two months ago were all ready started to get snug in the waist. Wanting to give Flack a shot upside the head for getting her that way, but decided to be nice and just let him sleep. He'd been working a lot of doubles and the occasional triple lately and sometimes went a couple days with no more than a few hours sleep. The job on top of trying to work in some time for their relationship was wearing him out. Especially when he was so determined to to be there every step of the way through her pregnancy.

And then there was the pain. She knew he was in pain still from the horrific injuries he'd suffered in the bombing. He hid it well and changed the subject if she brought it up or just flat out denied that there was anything wrong and tried to convince her that she was reading into things. He wouldn't take a simple Tylenol let alone anything stronger, and it was frustrating not to be able to convince him that it was okay to be weak every once in a while. She'd even talked to Hawkes to see if it was normal that he still be having that kind of pain. Hawkes had said of course. With the severity of injuries Flack had suffered, pain would more than likely be lifelong. Maybe not as intense ten years from now, but nagging nonetheless. Then he'd written a prescription for Percocet in her name so Flack wouldn't think she was doing anything sneaky behind his back. That was nearly three months ago and the bottle was still full in the kitchen cupboard. Stubborn bastard.

Carmen and her took the elevator to the main floor. A little girl time was in order. They toured the hotel. Even if they hadn't left the city, it still felt as if they were on vacation. And now that her own pills had kicked in, Samantha found herself constantly hungry. So their first stop was was the small cafe as opposed to the larger restaurant, where they grabbed a couple of drinks and banana chocolate chip muffins. Sam bought two just in case. And two small cartons of chocolate milk.

They sat on the outdoor patio, enjoying the cool breeze and the warm, bright sun.

"Glad to see you're eating." Carmen commented. "Not much of a breakfast though. Two muffins and chocolate milk?"

"Breakfast?" Sam laughed. "I already ate breakfast. We ordered rom service. Want to try something heavenly? Order the strawberry crepes. Amazing. I had those and some scrambled eggs and toast. That was two hours ago. This is just a snack. I can't believe I am eating this much!"

"Hey, it's probably the little monster that wants to eat." Carmen pointed out. "Forcing you to eat."

"Probably!" Sam agreed. "Just like his father. Eats a lot. And apparently it has rubbed off of me. I'm going to be huge if I keep eating like this. My jeans are all ready getting tight."

"Don't worry. You'll burn it off quick." Carmen assured her. "You're too active not to."

"You know what's going to happen?" Sam asked. "I keep eating like this, this kid will weigh twelve, thirteen pounds when he's born."

"I don't know if he'll be that heavy, but he's going to be big. Look at the size of his father. Speaking of the baby daddy, he go into work or something? Tim tried calling him on the room number and his cell to see if he wanted to come to our room and have some beers and watch the Mets. But he didn't get any answer."

"He's sleeping." Sam said. "I turned the ringer off on the room phone and his cell is off. He's been working a lot of doubles and some triples. And he's trying hard to balance work and us and all the things we got coming up for the baby. He needs some rest."

"By the sounds of what I heard about three hours ago, you two seem to be balancing your relationship just fine." Carmen teased.

Sam blushed. "Sorry. I can't help it. I'm loud. Hard not to be when its as mind blowing as it is. And you and Tim woke us up at five in the morning so I wouldn't talk."

Carmen giggled. "Ooops. Hey, at least we all had fun."

"True." Sam agreed and sipped her milk and suddenly became thoughtful and quiet.

"Something's bothering you." Carmen said. "I can tell. Are you feeling okay? Are you worried about the pregnancy? It's okay to be worried."

"I am." she admitted. "A little. I'm worried something bad is going to happen. But that's not it. I'm fine."

"Okay...so what is it? What's up?"

Sam sighed. "Don's still in a lot of pain from the bombing. A lot. Some days he's not as bad, but others he can barely move. I try getting him to talk about it and he just changes the subject or he gets irritable about it. And forget getting him to take anything for the pain. I even talked to Hawkes about it and he wrote me a prescription for percs but Don refuses to take them. He's a stubborn bastard, Carmen."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Sam. I'm not saying this to be mean. If he wants to pretend that everything is fine, that's his business. He's a big boy. He coped long before he ever met you.'

"I know."

"And I think he's thinking you can't afford to be worried sick all the time. That is main concern is you and the baby. He just wants you to be healthy and for everything to be okay with that baby and he's worried that the stress you work yourself into will cause problems. You need to not worry so much."

"It's hard." Sam sighed. "I mean, what if the doctors missed something? What if he just up and dies in his sleep?"

"Are you kidding me?" Carmen laughed. "That guy is going to go down in a blaze of glory. Trust me. And they didn't miss anything. He had the best damn doctors in New York. If they did miss anything, Don would be dead by now. So stop worrying about him and concentrate on yourself and that little baby in there. Promise me you'll start worrying about yourself and less about everyone else."

"I promise."

Carmen knew that it was a promise her friend wasn't likely to keep.

They headed into the gift shop. Carmen immediately went for the aisle that sold baby things while Sam decided to browse the magazines. Just as she was going through People, a young man in a pair of Dockers and Timberland boots and a white golf shirt accenting a deep tan stepped up beside her, standing close enough so that their arms brushed up against each other when he reached for a magazine. Sam ignored it. She didn't even look at him and kept her eyes on the article she was reading.

"Nice hotel, huh?" he asked cheerfully.

"Very nice." she replied simply.

"Nice than anything I've ever stayed in. Here from Seattle. For a conference. I'm an insurance consultant."

"Good for you." Sam said.

"You from out of town?"

"No. I'm from New York. I'm just here for a nice little get away with some friends."

"Surprised your friends left a pretty little thing like you alone." he commented.

"I'm a big girl." Sam told him. "I don't need an entourage."

"Your accent, it's unique. Where are you originally from?"

"Brooklyn.'

He offered his hand. "John Cooper." he said.

"Look, I'm not interested, okay? In insurance or anything else. So if you don't mind..."

"So you're here with someone than. Where is he? Must be insane letting you wander off alone."

"He knows I can handle myself. And I'm engaged and pregnant so just move along, okay?"

He eyed her from head to toe. "Sweet little thing like you...shouldn't be letting you out of his sight. You know, I'm a nice guy."

"Sure you are." Sam said warily. "Jefferey Dahmer seemed nice at first too.'

"Me and you could have a nice time together." John said, reaching out to touch her cheek softly, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I should take you upstairs to my room, tie you to the bed. Show you a good time.'

"Look, I don't know what gave you the impression I was like that or that I was interested, but I want you to just leave me alone. Okay?"

He grabbed her upper arm to prevent her from going anywhere. "Trust me...someone like you...your man should be tying you up and showing you a good time."

"I'm pregnant. I'd say that meant he has been showing me a good time."

"Come on. I find pregnant women sexy. It'll be our little secret. No one will ever know."

Sam yanked her arm away and laid a protective hand over her stomach. "Leave me alone." she insisted, her first and only priority was keeping her baby safe.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, there was someone standing beside her. Wrapping an an arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek.

"There you are sweetie!" Danny exclaimed. "I turned around and you had wandered off. I was worried about you."

Sam was a little startled, but she kissed his cheek in return. "I'm okay, honey," she said. "Just browsing. Spending your money."

Danny chuckled. "Like always." he eyed the tall blond man beside her. "Who are you?" he asked.

"She's with you?" John asked.

"Who else you think put the bun in the oven?" Danny retorted, laying his hand over the hand Sam had on her stomach. "This guy bothering you?" he asked her.

"I was just being nice." John answered for her. "Seeing if she needed any help."

"I bet." Danny snorted.

"He told me he wanted to tie me to the bed and show me a good time." Sam told Danny.

Danny frowned. "You what? That's sexual harassment buddy. I should call the NYPD and...wait a second..." he reached into his back pocket of his jeans and took out his wallet. "I am the NYPD." he flashed his back. "So if she. Take a hike."

John backed off, hands up defensively.

Danny and Sam watched him go. Then looked at each other and smiled.

"You can't go anywhere alone." Danny said, shaking his head.

"I seem to have that problem." Sam agreed. "The weirdos always find me. Thanks, Danny."

"No problem. I won't even charge ya for my body guard duties. Although I think I see body guard number one over there looking at baby stuff. You and Carmen are always together. At work, out of work..."

"In bed."

"Don't start that teasing now." Danny said with a sigh.

"You didn't know? This isn't really Don's baby. Carmen and I found the best scientists in the world and they made it possible for s to conceive together. I'm only using Don for appearance sake. So it looks normal to the public. Once he buys the house and puts money in the bank, he's so out of there. I won't need him."

Danny shook his head. "You're disturbed." he declared. "You really are. You love the guy."

"Of course I do. He knows it. Trust me."

"So where is he? You wear him out or something?"

"I killed him and ate him. The baby craved human flesh."

Danny frowned. "You really are troubled."

"He's upstairs. Sleeping. Yes, I wore him out. But he has no complaints. He said if I saw you, that he'd met you in the bar at four. Thanks a lot. You'll have him drunk by six."

"Hey, you can go one night without it." Danny told her.

Sam laughed. "Uh, no. I can't."

"Which is why you're in the condition you're in. Too much sex."

"I am in this condition because we forgot to use birth control. And don't be so jealous. From what Erica tells me, its not like you're starving for sex."

"I am not complaining." Danny said. But it is nowhere near you and Flack. Guy's a lucky bastard."

"Yes." Sam agreed. "He is."

"Look," Danny sighed. "I just want to say I'm sorry. For the way I acted at the beginning of the party and for flipping out on Flack like I did. I didn't mean to disrespect either of you. I was just surprised. Little hurt, I guess. Things are going god for you guys. Guess I feel a little jealous."

"It's okay, Danny." Sam assured him. "I understand. But things are going good with you and Erica aren't they?"

"Things are great. Amazing. I just...it's been me and Flack for a long time...you know, hanging out, doing guy stuff."

Sam grinned. "Being players you mean?"

"I swear on my mother that Flack is not like that. Didn't go around banging whatever showed interest. I know people think he's like that 'cause he can be a little arrogant..."

"A little?" Sam laughed. "There's an understatement."

"But he's not." Danny told her. "I wouldn't lie to you. And after the bombing... he didn't want to be with anyone after that. The whole not wanting to take his shirt off in public thing."

"I know." Sam said. "He was like that with me at first, too. And I'm glad you brought up the bombing."

Danny frowned. "Why?" he asked.

"I need your help." she replied.

"Sure. With what?"

Sam filled him in on the situation she found herself embroiled in regarding Flack's pain and suffering and his refusal to take anything for it.

"Want me to talk to him?" Danny asked, having listened to her intently.

"I just don't want him knowing it was me that told you. I don't want him thinking I talked about him behind his back."

"I've seen a few things that made me think he was in pain still." Danny said. "I asked him a couple times but he got pissed and changed the subject."

"He's a proud man, Danny. And he hates weakness. He doesn't do weak."

Danny sighed. "I know. I'll just tell him I've noticed some things and I'll try to get him to agree to take the meds."

She hugged him gratefully. "Thanks, Danny."

"No problem. He's my best friend. I love the guy."

Carmen joined them, her hands loaded down with baby clothing. "Look at all this stuff!" she exclaimed, holding it up. "Hey, Danny."

"Hey. Baby shopping all ready?"

"I couldn't resist! It's all too cute!" she showed them three sleepers. One said I Love New York on it, the other two boasted the logos of the New York Rangers and the Mets.

"Flack would have killed you if those were the Islanders and the Yankees." Danny laughed.

"Carmen," Sam sighed. "You don't need to be buying so much stuff."

"Well I want to. That's my niece or nephew in there. If I want to spoil them, I will."

"It's just a little soon." Sam reasoned gently, not wanting to hurt her friend's feelings. "I feel if we do stuff too soon, we'll jinx it in some way."

"That's ridiculous." Carmen told her. "It's not going to hurt anything by being some sleepers and clothes. And I will buy whatever I want. So be quiet and just carry the kid and leave the spoiling to Auntie Carmen."

"So what's going on with the end of the month?" Danny asked as they headed for the cash register. "Still need my moving services or what?"

Carmen nodded. "Still going ahead as planned. Except for the fact that I have to sleep on the couch and give Sam the bed. Just until Flack moves in at the end of October. I'm going to stay with them until Tim and I find a place we like. Makes things easier if I leave and then they have an extra room for the baby and they don't have to worry about finding a place while she's pregnant."

"Weird how things worked out, huh?" Danny commented. "Sam gets pregnant out of the blue and you guys getting a place together kinda gets screwed up."

"God works in mysterious ways." Carmen agreed. "But it's a blessing. The baby. It's a miracle. Any baby is. And Sam and Flack are going to be amazing parents."

Danny nodded. "Gotta admit, though. I never imagined Flack as a dad. But he'll be great."

"I have no worries about him." Sam said confidently. "It's me I'm worried about."

"You're incredible with kids." Carmen assured her. "Even Flack said that. We have confidence in you. He has confidence in you. And that's all that all that matters. How he feels. And he loves you and supports you no matter what. You know that."

Sam smiled. "I just need confidence in myself. Which is why Don arranged an appointment with Gus for me next week to talk about the issues I have about being a decent mother."

"He loves you." Carmen said. "All that matters to him is you and that baby. You're lucky, Sam. Not a lot of women have a guy that's this into the whole thing. He's even reading that expectant father book. He's damn determined to be part of every little detail. It's refreshing to see a guy like that."

"Seeing Flack like that is surreal." Danny declared. "Seeing him grow up so quickly. You've done a world of good for him, Brooklyn."

She smiled brightly. "He makes it easy." she rubbed her stomach. "God I'm hungry." she announced.

Carmen laughed. "All she does is eat." she told Danny.

"You girls wanna grab some lunch?" he asked. "My treat?"

Sam looped her arm through his. "Danny Messer," she declared. "You are a man after my own heart."

* * *

It was quarter after four when Flack met up with Danny in the hotel bar. Only a few patrons lingered, sipping cocktails or beer and eating pub fare. Danny was near the end of the bar, watching the last three innings of the Mets versus Rockies, a pitcher of beer and two glasses in front of him, his own half full.

"Hey." Flack greeted, gingerly sliding onto the stool beside his friend.

When he got up, having slept in an awkward position, he knew he was in trouble the minute he stretched and a searing pain shot up his spine and settled between his shoulders. Now it felt as if someone had taken a hot knife and shoved it through his lower back and into his rib cage. Samantha had seen the slow way in which he moved and the grimace he tried so hard to hide, and immediately got on his ass about taking a Tylenol. Or a Perc. She'd brought both.

He was not impressed and a slight argument had ensued over his ability to take care of himself. An argument that resulted in her saying she didn't feel well and needed to lie down. And with her telling him to fuck off when he stepped out the door.

"Sam's through using you as a sex slave?" Danny asked. "She let ya out into the general population? Let you see the sun, breathe the fresh air?"

"She's sleeping." Flack replied and poured himself a beer. Even that slight movement hurt like a bitch.

"At four in the afternoon? You two wearing each other out or what?"

"She's been feeling extra tired the last few days." Flack explained. "The doctor told her to get all kinds of rest and take all these vitamins. Which I think's a bunch of shit 'cause they don't seem to be doing her any good. I don't know if her iron is low or what the hell it is, but she's always tired." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck and sipped his beer. "Never thought her being pregnant would be this stressful."

"What'cha stressed about?" Danny asked, helping himself to a handful of peanuts from a basket infront of them.

"I'm just worried. This job is stressful, Danny. You know that. And stress is not good for her or the baby. But there's always gonna be stress in her field. Our fields. Always. And now Mac's gonna keep her in the field for a least another two months."

"And you're not happy." Danny concluded.

"I'm pissed. I don't want her out there while she's pregnant. Hell, I don't want her out there half the time when she isn't pregnant. And I know Mac's got her under strict working conditions out there. She can't work alone, she can't run after a suspect, so on and son. But anything could happen out there."

"We'll all keep an eye on her." Danny assured him. "You know that."

"I know. And I appreciate it. 'Cause if anything happens to her or the baby..."

"Nothing will happen." Danny assured him. "Not on my watch, anyway. Ya wanna shot some pool? Come on," he slid off the stool and slapped his friend on the back. "Let's shoot some pool. I'll kick the crap outta ya like always. For old times sake."

He saw the way Flack moved slowly, as if he could barely even move.

"You okay? Don?" he asked, concerned, as they headed to a table.

"Fine. Why?"

"You're moving like you're eighty."

"I said I'm fine. Just rack the balls and break, would ya?"

Danny sighed and popped three quarters in a slot on the table to get the balls released. He racked them up and grabbed a cue. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, Flack." he said as he lined up his shot and broke the formation of balls.

"Don't tell me you're getting engaged, too." the detective said, taking his shot. "That'll be three of us."

"Whose engaged other than you? Speed?! Are you serious? Him and Devine are gettin' hitched?"

"They're talking about it. Keep it quiet, okay? Back to you..."

"Naw. Not ready to follow you and Brooklyn down the aisle of wedded bliss or into parenthood. It's something about you."

"Don't be giving me another one you're fucking up your life lecture." Flack warned him.

"Hell no. I'm happy for you and Sam. You know that. It's about you. Personally."

"Okay...what?"

"I've been noticing lately that you can barely move some days, Flack. You still hurting a lot from the bombing?"

"I'm fine. I just hurt a little some days.'

"A little? Who are you trying to kid? You had shrapnel from a bomb stuck in your chest. A severed artery in your stomach. No one is faulting you for being in pain. I'd be a wreck if it was me."

"Well it wasn't you." Flack said. "And I'm fine.'

"You're my best friend, Don." Danny's tone was dead serious. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Danny, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But drop it."

"You got something against taking meds? You need help, Don. If you're in pain, you need meds. Tylenol, Advil, Percs, Demerol. I really don't care. But you need something to function."

"I am functioning just fine, Danny." Flack said irritably.

"Are you? 'Cause it don't seem that way to me. I know you're not taking the meds."

Flack snorted and shook his head. "Sam opening her big fucking mouth again." he sighed.

"She never said a word." Danny defended her.

"Bullshit. She talked to Hawkes, too. He's the one that gave her the script for the Percs. So if she talked to him, I damn well know she talked to you. So what? She thought you'd be able to talk me into taking them?"

"She's worried about you, Don."

"Well she doesn't need to be. I told her that. I told her to worry about herself and the baby. That should be her main concern.'

"And it is. But in case you forgot, she loves you. And you're the father of that baby. She's gonna worry regardless. And maybe she'd like ya to enjoy the kid when it comes along without suffering all the time. What good are you gonna be when your kid is ten and wants ya to throw around the ball with him or teach him how to shoot a puck and you're too damn crippled up from pain to do it?"

Flack sipped his beer. He had no response.

"You know I'm right. You know she's right. Stop being such a stubborn ass and take the fucking meds."

"I'll think about it." Flack said.

"You'll think about it?" Danny shook his head. "No. You'll fucking do it."

"Who are you? My mother?"

"I'd put ya over my ass and spank ya if I was."

Flack smiled. "You'd enjoy that too much, Messer. You'd get off on it."

"Don't flatter yourself, Flack. Seriously though. It's not weak to need the meds. Okay?'

He nodded.

"I'm serious. You had a hell of a thing happen to you. You're lucky to be alive. So go easy on yourself, and her, and take the meds. Just take them when it's really bad. Give yourself some relief. You owe that to yourself. And to her and to that baby you put inside of her."

"Danny, I appreciate it if you minded your own business." Flack said, as gently as possible.

"Don, you're my friend. This is my business. Take the goddamn pills."

"Like I said," he drained his beer and poured another one. "I'll think about it."

"You are the biggest, most stubborn sonofabitch I have ever met." Danny declared.

* * *

They had dinner delivered to their suite and ate by the small table in front of the picture window while listening to some music on the radio. Sam knew something wasn't right the minute she woke from her nap and saw him drinking JD on ice and watching television on the opposite bed. It just wasn't something he would do. She tried to start conversations with him but got one word answers or none at all. And when he did speak, he was rude and off hand. And he barely came anywhere near her and avoided any kind of physical contact.

And now, as they ate dinner, sitting across from one another, he didn't even make eye contact with her. The only sound the fork hitting the plate as he stabbed at the food in front of him.

"You know what?" Sam pushed her own food away. The anxiety the situation was causing her making it impossible to eat. "I can't take this silent game anymore, Don. What's wrong?"

"Why'd you tell Danny about those pills?" he asked, not looking at her.

"I just thought..."

"It's none of his goddamn business." Flack snapped before she could finish. "Or yours."

"I just thought Danny could get you to take them." she admitted.

"I don't want to take them. How many fucking times do I have to tell you? And it's not your place to tell people that stuff.'

"I'm just worried about you." she reasoned. "'Cause you need the meds and you won't take them and I thought Danny could help."

"It's none of your goddamn business, Samantha."

That wasn't the first time he'd ever said that. It was the second time just in that conversation alone. And she was tired of it and it made her snap.

"Gee, I'm sorry. I thought when you asked me to marry you and you knocked me up that it became my business!" she yelled and tossed her napkin on her plate and got up from the table.

"Sit down." he said. "Sit down and eat."

"Don't fucking boss me around, Don! You're not you're father and I am not your mother!"

That reference pissed him off more than anything in the world.

"But you think you can boss people around!" he was on his feet as well, yelling back at her. "I don't want to end up some fucking perc popping junkie, okay? I can deal with this on my own!"

"Yeah." she snorted. "You're dealing with it real well, Don."

"How I deal with it is up to me. Not you!"

"You're dealing with it like some goddamn child refusing to let his mother give him cold medication!" she screamed, walking away from him in an order to calm herself "You need those pills and you fucking now it!"

"Will you just shut up about it?!" he raged. "I don't want to talk about it! Just shut the fuck up!"

"Don't tell me to shut up! I'm doing this because I love you!" she yelled, turning around to face him. "This isn't just about you anymore! This is about us! You, me and our unborn baby! You're suppose to be my husband in three months! How the hell are you going to look after a newborn if you're in this much pain! What if you collapse or something and I'm not around..."

"This is ridiculous." he said and turned his back on her. "You're being so fucking stupid for someone that's suppose to be so smart."

"For fuck sakes, Donald, could you please just be a little more fucking considerate? I need you more than ever! You're just being stubborn for the sake of..." she felt a sudden, stabbing pain in her stomach, had to put her hand on his back to steady herself.

"Don't fucking touch me right now? Okay? Just..." he turned around to face her, to get her hand off of him and she nearly fell into him. He had to grab her arm to keep her on her feet. Her face was white, her eyes wide, her hand clutching at her stomach. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately alarmed. "You okay?"

She shook her head. "I have...a pain... a really bad pain..."

"What kind of pain? In your stomach?"

She nodded. Tears forming in her eyes. "Oh God... it hurts...so bad..."

He made her sit down on the end of the bed, got her a glass of water. "Calm down," he said, finding it hard to keep calm himself.

"I can't..." her hand shook as she tried to raise the glass to her mouth.

"You know what? We're gonna go to Women and Children's and get you checked out." Flack said, going to the bedside table and grabbing his car keys and his wallet.

"Maybe if I just lie down 'til it goes away." she suggested.

"No. I'm taking you to the hospital. I can't believe this is fucking happening. I didn't mean to yell at you, Samantha. I'm sorry." he was near tears as he grabbed her jacket and running shoes. "Fuck...I didn't mean it... I'm a fucking prick, baby... I'm sorry."

"I know. I just..." she groaned in agony and double over. "Oh God...Donnie...the pain...it's so bad. What if it's the baby? This can't be happening! Don't let this happen, Donnie. Please don't let this happen!" tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth in pain. "Will you...get Carmen...please get Carmen..."

"I need to get you to the hospital like right now." he told her, his cell phone all ready in his hand.

"Please...get Carmen...please..."

He hurried next door, pounding so hard on the door and yelling Carmen's name so loud that everyone on the floor stuck their heads out to see what the hell was going on.

After he told her what was going on, she was out of the room and rushing next door before he even had a chance to blink. Him and Speed following behind.

"Samantha!" Carmen rushed to the bed, dropped to her knees and took her friend's teary face in her hands. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"The pain..." she sobbed. "Oh God...Carmen the pain is so bad...like your period times a thousand..."

"Just try and stay calm...Tim? Can you go down and get Hawkes and ask him if he'll come and look at her?"

Speed nodded and hurried out.

"Flack, get me a cold, wet face cloth." Carmen instructed.

He disappeared into the bathroom. Came out half a minute later and handed it to her.

Carmen applied it to Sam's forward. "Shhh...calm down, baby girl. Try and stay calm...we'll get you looked at..." she turned cold, accusatory eyes on Flack. "You guys were fighting? Tim and I heard you guys arguing. What the hell is wrong with you? You know that when she gets stressed, the baby gets stressed."

"It was an arguement. I didn't think that..."

Sam groaned, obviously in a considerable amount of pain. "I have to...go to the bathroom..."

Carmen put an arm around her friend's waist and helped her up. "You call if you need anything or you feel sick." she told her and guided her to the bathroom.

Sam nodded and disappeared inside, closing the door slightly.

Carmen glared at Flack.

"What?" he asked. "We were arguing about those stupid goddamn pain pills. I didn't want this to happen! Do you think..."

"Carmen!" Samantha wailed, in sheer panic. "Oh God...Carmen..."

She burst into the bathroom, and found Samantha sitting on the floor, cross legged in a small pool of blood. Her heart stopped for a brief moment. "Flack!" she yelled, sticking her head out the door. "Go out in the hall and see what the hell is taking Hawkes so long!"

"What's going on, Carmen?" he was nearly panicking himself. And he was the kind of guy who never panicked about anything.

Carmen's green eyes met his blue ones. "She's bleeding." she said simply.

His face went ashen.

"Hurry up and find Hawkes! I'll take care of Sam!" she disappeared back into the bathroom. Helped Sam to her feet and back into the bedroom area. Sam was sobbing. She was in pain and in near hysterics. "Okay...everything's fine..." Carmen tried to remain as calm as possible, even though she was shaking from head to toe and her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

"The baby..." Sam was crying over and over again.

"Everything's fine. You don't know that anything is wrong. It could be something else. We're getting you help. Just try and relax."

Please God let it be something else, Carmen prayed. Don't do this to her. Don't destroy her like this.

Hawkes came rushing into the room. Cool, calm and collected. Ever the professional. "I'm not well versed in obstetrics and gynaecology." he said in way of an apology. "I only did a six week rotation. If you want to just go out in the hall with Flack and Speed, I'll take a look at her. Samantha, do you want me to take a look? See if I can help?"

She nodded. Past caring if someone she worked with, especially such a good looking man, saw what she looked like naked from the waist down. "Can Carmen stay?" she asked, reaching for Carmen's hand.

"I don't mind if she doesn't." Hawkes said.

Carmen shook her head and sat down on the edge of the bed and held her friend's hand tightly and stroked her hair with the other as Hawkes gently pulled off her pants and underwear and began a quick examination.

"I'm sorry." he said sincerly when Sam flinched and moaned. "I wish I had proper things to work with her."

"Just do the best you can." Carmen told him.

He pressed lightly on her stomach from the outside. "The uterus is still swollen so there's no immediate sign of a miscarriage."

"What about the blood?" Carmen asked. "There's quite bit."

"Could be caused by other things." Hawkes replied. "Broken fibroid, burst cyst... happens a lot once the uterus begins to expand. My best suggestion, she needs to get to Women's and Children's and have her own OB or whoever's on call, check her out. I have people I know on staff there. Let me make a couple calls and we'll get her in there, no ER time. Just straight to the OB ward."

"Thanks, Hawkes." Carmen said.

He nodded, patted her on the back and went to make his phone calls.

"Is the baby going to be okay?" Samantha asked, in a tiny voice that reminded Carmen of a small child.

"I hope so, sweetie. You just try and stay calm. Okay?"

Samantha nodded and closed her eyes and prayed.

So did Carmen.

**Thanks to everyone who is R and R'ing!! Please keep it up! With all the PC problems I have been having, I haven't been able to return mail very well. I hope y'all know how much I appreciate everyone one of you. Good news? My new note book arrives in two to three weeks!!**


	49. What a tangled web we weave

**What a tangled web we weave...**

"I wake up, it's a bad dream  
no one on my side, I was fighting  
but I just feel too tired  
to be fighting  
guess I'm not the fighting kind  
wouldn't mind if if you were by my side  
but you're long gone  
yeah you're long gone now."  
-A Bad Dream, Keane

**A/N: Thanks to Mauveine for another amazing song. I need to hire her as my go to girl for music. Also, this chapter contains a little bit of dark. I warn you all now. And that there's a startling revelation made and it may drive some of you away. Just a warning.**

* * *

He saw everything, but nothing. Unable to comprehend or process how it had ever come to this. He didn't hear the chirping of the birds in the trees overhead or the bubbling of the stone fountain less than a hundred yards away. He hear voices but they were garbled and muffled as if he was listening to them underwater. The most noticeable sound was the pounding of his heart hammering in his ears. He had a tremendous headache that blurred his vision and had been gnawing at his brain from the moment they began their journey to Holy Cross Cemetery in Queens. The ache only got worse as they crossed the lush green grass, Danny and Carmen with their arms around him, practically holding him up. Keeping him on his feet as they approached the mound of fresh dirt and the arrangements of flowers around that gapping hole in the ground, the coffin resting on a platform above. A newly finished light grey granite headstone gleaming in the sin. Marking double plot purchased only a week ago.

It was eerie. Seeing his last name on the stone. Only something wasn't right. Something didn't look right. It was all wrong.

**SAMANTHA L. FLACK**

**APRIL 24 1978-MAY 3 2018**

**LOVED WIFE, MOTHER, SISTER, FRIEND**

That name was wrong. It shouldn't have been there. There was nothing under his name that was engraved next to it other than his birth date. It should have been the other way around. That last date belonged under his name. Not hers.

He wanted desperately for it to be him. He wanted it more than anything else in the world. It should have been his body waiting to be put in the ground. Not hers. God, not her. Sam and the kids would have survived without him. It would have hurt like a bastard for a hell of a long, long time, but she would have coped a lot better than him. She could have cared for those kids, his kids, their kids, far better than he knew he could. She was a strong woman. She'd survived a lot. She would have survived if it had have been him. She would have picked herself up and carried on. He took it more as a testament to her strong will and determination than an insult that she could have easily lived without him. He knew that she loved him. Relied on him to take care of them and make things right. And he always had. He'd always been the strong one. And now...

Now he felt weak.

I wish it was me, he thought. I wish I could go back and let Him take me instead of her. I would have laid down my life for her. She knew that. Everyone knew that.

It wasn't suppose to end like this. It wasn't their plan. They were suppose to go away in less than a month. The honeymoon they never had. They'd gotten married so quickly. She'd been five months pregnant and there'd been no time for a honeymoon. They'd been lucky to get Christmas Day and Boxing Day off. They were suppose to watch their children flourish and grow. Graduate high school. College. Hell, even the academy if that's what they wanted out of life. Get married and have kids of their own. Spoil their grandchildren. Celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. Die old and grey and warm in their bed.

Why couldn't things just go easily for once?

Why did she have to go like that? She didn't deserve that.

Why did she have to leave me?

And as he sat in that graveside chair, clutching a rose he'd later place on his wife's casket before it was lowered into the cold, dark earth, Flack made up his mind. As the priest gave a final blessing and those closest to her came up one by one, most weeping, to sy a quiet farewell, each placing a flower on top of the coffin, he knew what he had to do. It was his only choice.

Please forgive me, he thought, as he stood at her final resting place, his left hand on the cold wood lid, his wedding band sparkling in the sun. Please forgive me. I know you wouldn't want this, baby. But I have to do it. I have to be with you. I can't live without you. The kids have lots of people who love them and will take care of them. Way better than I could. I can't do it alone. I can't be in this world without you. I need to see you again and hold you and hear your voice and tell you I love you. And hear you say it back. I wanna hear you say Donnie again. Hell, even Donald. And I need you to understand why I need to do it. Why I have to do it.

It's because I love you, Samantha.

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he turned away. Someone stepped beside him and put their arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Danny? Carmen? Gavin? No. They were all still sitting there, watching him, lost in their own grief. He looked over at the person to his right. White haired and nearly as tall as he, slightly wrinkled, eyes blue as his own.

"Dad?" he choked out, disbelieving.

"It's okay, Donnie." Sr said, leading his first born back to his seat. "I'm sorry, son. I'm sorry I didn't make it to the church in time. I'm sorry for a lot of things. But I'm here now."

"Dad?" he said again, a half sob escaping his lips.

"I know it hurts like hell, Donnie. And I'm sorry you have to go through this. I am so sorry. I know you loved her."

"Dad." It was a full sob this time.

Sr stopped and turned to his son.

"I can't..."

Flack couldn't finish. The grief overtook him and he felt himself being pulled into his father's strong, warm embrace. Where he sobbed like a child. Unabashedly, unashamed. "Oh God, Dad...I can't...I can't breathe...feels like I can't breathe..."

"I know." Sr stroked his son's hair softly. "It's going to be okay, Donnie. I promise you, son."

He squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what he had to do. The only thing that would take away the horrible, unbearable pain.

Donald Flack Jr would take his own gun and kill himself in less than 24 hours.

* * *

The crime lab and the precinct had kicked in the money to hire someone to cater the wake being held at Flack's house. By the time everyone arrived back from the cemetery and guests began showing up, table upon table of food and drink were set up in the backyard and in the dining room. Mrs Jenkins, an elderly neighbour whose recently deceased husband was FDNY and occasionally watched the children, had kept an eye on the four kids while everyone was gone and made sure things were properly set up and organized.

The turn out was huge. At least a hundred people, if not more, coming in and out. Some of them members of the general public who'd gotten a hold of the address or had been told by someone with loose lips within the NYPD. Uniforms and detectives and lab techs who were working and unable to attend the funeral but who wanted to offer their condolences.

Flack felt as if he was walking through some sort of dream. Hearing only muffled voices that seemed so far away. He was tired. Physically and emotionally. He needed sleep. But sleep in a permanent sense of the word. It was all he could think about as he shook hands and said very little. His father a constant presence by his side. His mother re-acquainting herself with her grandchildren that she hadn't seen since Mikayla was a sick, tiny two and a half pound newborn in the NICU at Women and Children's.

Speed avoided Carmen. Not because he wanted to. God, he wanted to be near her, with her, as much as possible. But she was running herself ragged with the kids, caring for them in that patient, motherly way that made him wonder how she would have been if their baby had have survived.

He drove all thoughts of that out of his mind. He couldn't think about that. It just hurt so bad even now.

He still loved her so much.

He needed some alone time. He couldn't deal with the way Carmen's ass hole she called a husband was watching him so intently. Rick knew full well that Speed couldn't take his eyes off of Carmen, that he was waiting for a moment he could seize to be alone with her. Speed wondered how much Rick actually knew of the past. And how in the hell she had ever ended up with someone like that in the first place.

He took his beer and left the backyard. Headed down the driveway and cut across the grass to get to the front porch. He craved quiet and there was no one else around. He needed time to sort out all the thoughts and emotions in his head. But as he mounted the front steps leading to the wide, spacious porch, he realized he wasn't alone. And that he couldn't turn around and leave out of good faith. He felt his heart break. And that was a difficult thing for someone like him to experience.

Six year old Daniel -or was it Mackenzie? No. Mackenzie was the the one with the longer hair, this was Daniel with the brush cut style going on- sitting cross legged on the front porch swing, his eyes downcast, holding a tattered t-shirt in one hand and an equally tattered and greying stuff animal in the other.

Daniel glanced up briefly as Speed climbed the stairs. He'd only met Uncle Tim that morning when he arrived at the house, but he liked him. Uncle Tim seemed funny. And he drove a motorcycle. A fast one, he had told Daniel and his brothers and had showed them pictures on his cell phone. Daniel liked motorcycles. They were cool. So there for, so was Uncle Tim.

"Hey little man." Speed greeted, pulling a lawn chair over and sitting down in front of the swing.

Truth was, for purely selfish reasons, he wanted a better look at the kid and wanted to make it as discreet as possible. All morning and afternoon he'd been trying to get a good look at him and his twin brother, stopping short of taking photos with his cell phone. Sam had said that Flack was the father. But he needed to see for himself. 'Cause there was something about the thickness and unruliness of Mackenzie's hair that didn't sit right with Speed. Sam had had rod straight hair. Flack's was so short it was hard to tell what it looked like longer. Speed had heard around fourteen years ago that Flack had had a lot of hair and that it was near black and thick and wavy.

But something about that kid's hair. And both their noses. Save for the freckles splattered across them, they did not have their mother's nose and certainly didn't have Flack's. And the more Speed looked, the more he wished he hadn't.

Jesus, Samantha, he thought, why didn't you tell me?

"How ya doin', Daniel?" he asked. Wanting the kid to look at him so he could see the eyes.

"Fine." he replied in a tiny voice.

"Why aren't you out back playing with your brothers?"

He shrugged.

"What'cha got there, little man? Can I see?"

Daniel hesitated, a brief look of panic on his face, then he nodded and reluctantly surrendered the first item. A white t-shirt with colorful child size hand prints all over it. And each of the children's names. Homemade.

"This was your mom's?" Speed asked.

Daniel nodded. "I made it. Last year. Daddy helped me. For mommy's day."

"She must have really liked this. She wore it a lot?"

"Yeah. As jammies lots of times."

"What else you got there?"

Daniel held up a raggedy, discolored cat missing an eye, the bow long faded and tattered. Speed was taking back to that day ten years ago when Sam was attacked at that house on the upper west side. Flack had given her that cat while she was in the hospital.

"It was mommy's." Daniel told him. "But when we were babies we got to sleep with it. Daddy gave it to her a long time ago."

"That was nice of her to let you guys sleep with that. Something that meant so much to her. She must have loved you guys a lot."

Daniel nodded. Sighed heavily. Stared blankly at his lap. "My mommy's dead." he said quietly.

Speed felt a lump form in his throat. Tears threatened. God, he had loved her. In his own way. Maybe not love. Love was too strong a word. That was reserved for only one person. But he had held a special place in his heart for her. "I know." he managed.

"Daddy's really sad." Daniel said. "He cries a lot."

"Well he loved your mommy very much. He's feeling sad. He misses her."

"I know. I miss her, too."

"I bet you do." Speed said with a sigh and a sip of his beer.

"She was suppose to take me to the zoo next week. With school. Now I can't go." Daniel said.

"I'm sure your dad will take ya."

"He can't. He has to work. That mean man said he has to or else."

"Well how about Uncle Danny? Or Auntie Carmen? Or even Uncle Adam and Auntie Gus?"

Daniel shook his head.

"What about Aunties Erica and Alexis? Or Uncle Sheldon?" Speed tried.

"Working. Everyone is working. Mommy wasn't working. And now she can't go to the zoo. She can't go ever again." tears threatened, his lower lip wobbled.

"Well, how about I stick around for a few extra days and I take you to the zoo." Speed offered.

Daniel looked up.

His eyes were dark brown.

Speed's heart pounded in his chest.

"You'll take me?" Daniel asked through his tears.

"Sure." Speed replied. Jesus, was it really possible? He was sitting across from his own son?

Daniel managed a smile. "Thank you."

"No problem. What's your favorite animal?"

"Uh..." Daniel wrinkled his eyes and nose as he thought about it.

Just like his mother, Speed thought sadly.

"Tigers?" Speed offered.

"No. Not tigers. It's a cat. I'm 'lergic to cats." Daniel told him.

Like Flack, Speed thought. Feeling a little relieved. Until he reminded himself a lot of people were allergic to cats.

"I like elephants." Daniel said. "And giraffes."

"Yeah? They're cool. I like those too."

"Did you know that they are six feet tall when they're born?" Daniel asked, laying the cat and t-shirt down beside him and placing his foot in his lap and untying and re-tying his right shoe over and over again as he spoke enthusiastically. "And that their tongue can be as long as 45 centimeters and even though their neck can be six to seven feet long they have the same number of vertebrae as humans?"

Speed did know all of that. He'd done a project in elemantary school years ago on giraffes and he'd memorized all the facts he could and like most information, he kept it stored back in his brain if he needed it. What amazed him was that a seven year old knew all that. And how as a child, Speed himself had been able to recite information off of the top of his head that astounded adults. This kid was smart. Almost too smart.

"How'd you know all that?" he asked, sipping his beer, needed to keep that knot in his throat at bay. It was the realization that there were too many similarities to ignore between him and this child. "You read that on the Internet?"

"No. I read it in a book. The encyclopedia." Daniel said, matter of factly. He re-tied his shoe a final time, looked at it and nodded his approval, then moved to the other shoe.

Jesus Christ, Speed thought. Seven year olds didn't know what that meant, let alone pronounce it properly. And there was something else that he couldn't get past. The obvious Obsessive Compulsive behaviour that this kid was showing. Just like...

Him.

That knot grew bigger and more agonizing.

"You're a smart kid." Speed said in praise.

"Mommy says I'm a genius. But to never get too full of myself."

"You're mommy was a very, very, very smart woman." Speed told him. "You like to read?"

Daniel nodded, concentrating on his shoe tying.

"What kind of books do you read?" Speed asked.

No response. The kid so engrossed on the task at hand.

"Daniel." he snapped his fingers in front of the kid's face to snap him out of the daze. "What kind of books do you like?"

"Lots of kinds. I like Harry Potter. Lord of the Rings stuff. The Hobbit."

"Your mom and your dad read those to you?"

"No. I can read them on my own. I know how to read, Uncle Tim. I read better than Kieran even."

"What about t.v.? You watch t.v.?"

"Sometimes. Not lots."

"What do you watch when you watch t.v.?" Speed asked.

Daniel shrugged. "Cartoons. Spider-man. Transformers. I like those. And I watch The Discovery Channel, too."

Speed nearly choked on his beer. "What do you watch on the Discovery Channel?"

"I don't know. Different stuff. Stuff about animals mostly. And stuff about operations. I want to be a doctor like Uncle Shelly."

It took Speed a minute to figure out that Doctor Shelly was Hawkes.

"You don't want to be a police man like your dad and your mom?"

"Maybe like mommy. Daddy says she's the smart kind of police man. A scientist. That she helped catch bad guys that way."

Speed nodded. "That is exactly what she did." he agreed.

"What do you do, Uncle Tim?" he asked curiously, turning his attention from his shoes to a piece of loose thread on the cuff of his navy blue cargo pants.

"I'm a scientist police man, too." he replied. Finding it surreal his best conversation in a long time was with a seven year old.

"Will you use your scientist stuff to catch the bad guy who did this to my mommy?" Daniel asked hopefully.

"Tell you what, I will do whatever I can to help your daddy and your Auntie Carmen and Uncle Adam and everyone else do just that. Okay?"

Daniel managed a smile that crinkled his eyes and his nose. "Okay." he agreed.

God, just like his mother, Speed thought, and felt a wave of crippling loss and sadness take over him. So many things that he should have said to her before she left his bed that morning seven and a half years ago. Apologies he should have made. Only he never got the chance. And now...

He glanced Daniel sitting there, so innocent and pure.

Why didn't you tell me, Samantha? Why didn't you just pick up that damn phone and tell me about him? About them. There was two. He had to remind himself of that. It wouldn't have brought him back to Miami or into her life. He didn't love her in that way. And he never would have taken those kids from the man they called daddy. But it would have been nice to know. Maybe send her money to feel like he was being responsible. But to find out like this? When she was gone and he couldn't ask her those questions. It didn't seem fair in the least

* * *

The screen door was pushed open abruptly, nearly colliding with the small window to the left of it and Carmen hurried out, looking frantic. Until she saw the source of that panic and laid her hand over her pounding chest.

"Daniel!" she cried. "I was worried sick about you! I thought you ran off!"

"He's fine." Speed assured her. "We're just having a chat. Getting to know each other."

Carmen didn't like the way he said that last part and her icy glare let him know.

"We're going to the zoo." Daniel announced happily.

"We are?" Carmen asked. "Uh...okay...I don't think you're daddy is up to that, buddy."

"No Auntie Carmen." Daniel corrected her with a slight impatient tone. "Just me and Uncle Tim."

"He means next week." Speed added. "School thing his mom was suppose to take him too. Kid needed someone to take him and I offered."

"Just like that?" Carmen asked, sounding skeptical.

Speed nodded and sipped his beer. "You're all too busy to do anything with him so..."

"Don't..." Carmen held up her hand for him to stop. "We work, Tim. Okay? I've taken almost a month off now. I can't..."

"Easy, Red. I wasn't blaming or accusing. You've done a lot. I know that. And you've done a great job with them. I'm proud of you."

She smiled. A little.

"We're going to see the elephants." Daniel told her. "And the giraffes." he slid off the swing and moved to the small table beside Speed. Laying the t-shirt and stuffed cat gingerly on the porch before reaching for a metal container under the table.

Speed looked at Carmen for an explanation to what the kid was doing.

"Rocks." Carmen explains. "Watch what he does."

Speed finished his beer and sat and watched as Daniel took off the lid, laid each rock out gingerly, then meticulously began arranging them by size, shape and color. It must have went on for fifteen minutes. And they just sat there and watched. Speed just shook his head. And wished he had another beer.

"Daniel," Carmen said, when the child finally stopped. "Why don't you go inside and get something to eat and drink. So I can talk to your Uncle Tim." she stressed the word Uncle. In case Speed had other ideas.

His face went nearly white. "I don't want to go inside." he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"It's scary. All those people. All the black clothes. It scares me. Don't make me, Auntie Carmen."

"How about..." Speed took out his cell phone. "I call your dad on his cell and ask him to come and get you? Would that be less scary?"

Daniel nodded. "Daddy always makes things less scary." he said.

Speed dialled the number. "Yeah...Flack...I know this is weird considering you're in the back and I'm in the front of the house, but I've got your son here and he's afraid to go inside...all the people are freaking him out...okay...bye." he hung up. "Your dad is on the way." he assured Daniel.

"I'm hungry." Daniel said and rubbed his stomach.

"Your daddy will get you something to eat." Carmen told him. "Why don't you give me your stuff and..."

Daniel hit the panic button when he saw Carmen reach for the shirt and the cat. He scooped them up, clutching it to his chest. "It's mommy's!" he screamed. "Not yours!"

"I know..." Carmen said, clearly startled. "But..."

"Mommy's! You'll never be my mommy Auntie Carmen! Never!"

"Daniel, I'm not trying to be your mommy." she assured him.

"Yes! Yes you are! I don't want you to be my mommy! I want my mommy! Not you!"

Tears streamed down his pale cheeks and he jumped up and scurried to Speed and climbed up into his lap and curled his tiny arm's around Speed's neck and buried his face in his shoulder. Speed wasn't sure what to do. He'd never been around kids before and dealing with them was awkward. Especially when your nephew as actually your son. Carmen was looking at him with a let's see how you deal with this look on her face.

"It's okay." Speed spoke calmly, stroking Daniel's hair. "No one is going to take your mom's things or replace her. Auntie Carmen just thought it would be easier for you to eat if you let her take them. That's all. She didn't mean anything by it. So tell you what? Why don't you let your dad take them and hold them for you. 'Cause you don't want them getting wrecked, do you?"

Daniel sniffled. "No." he raised his head. "Will you hold them for me?" he asked. "Please?"

"Sure. If that's what you want. I'll keep an eye on them and you can come back when to me and get them. All right?"

"All right." he agreed.

Speed leaned over, kid in lap, and gently picked up the items.

Daniel kissed Speed's cheek. "Thank you." he said.

He swore his heart stopped at that kiss on the cheek. "No problem, buddy. I'll take good care of them. I promise. But you know, you should apologise to your Auntie Carmen. She loves you and your mom and she's just trying to help your dad and you kids out. You wanna say sorry?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Auntie Carmen."

"It's okay." she assured him. "I know you miss your mommy and that those things keep her close to you."

"Your mommy is always right here." Speed told the little boy, laying his hand on that tiny chest. "In your heart and you can always think about her. Whenever you want. And she loved you very much and she took care of you and your brothers and your sister."

Flack came up the front step, hands in his pockets, looking weary. And froze on the top step when he saw his son with Speed. Seeing the two of them so close together, the resemblance was striking. And painful. The two of them had an obvious connection. Daniel hadn't handed over that cat and that shirt since Sam died. Not even to his father.

It broke his heart. He didn't think it could possibly break anymore than it all ready was. It only cemented his decision. Once he was gone those kids would be okay. Two of them would still have their real father.

Carmen saw the hurt in his blue eyes, the darkness that came over his face. Her heart ached for him. "Don..." she said.

"Daddy!" Daniel exclaimed and reached up for him.

Flack scooped him up effortlessly. "What's wrong, buddy?" he asked. "All the people scare you?"

Daniel nodded and wrapped an arm around his father's neck and his legs around his torso. "All the noise, daddy." he said. "Bothers me."

"Sensory issues." Carmen explained to Speed. "Hearing. Lots of noise at once drives him crazy."

"That ever get better?" Speed asked.

"When he's older." Carmen replied.

"What causes it? Just happens?"

"All tied to the OCD." Flack said. "Guess it's handed down, huh?" he glared at his friend. "Wanna get something to eat, Daniel? You hungry?"

"Hungry." he agreed. "And thirsty."

"Come on, we'll go and get ya something." Flack headed down the steps carrying his son. "Thanks, guys." he said to Speed and Carmen.

"No problem." Carmen said. "If you need anything..."

"I won't." he assured her, a little too harshly.

* * *

Carmen sighed and sat down on the vacated swing.

"What's this about Daniel being OCD?" Speed asked.

"You didn't notice when we first got back that he was organizing his books in alphabetical order? And putting his toys smallest to largest on that shelf in his room? Or how he freaked on Mackenzie for messing the place up. His room is immaculate. He does it himself. No seven year old has a room that clean. Sometimes, at dinner, he even arranges his peas by size."

"I did wonder what was up when I got here this morning and he was sorting his crayons in primary and secondary colors. Has he always been like that?"

"As long as I can remember." Carmen sighed. "Sam managed to get him out of the excessive hand washing and teeth brushing. He was making his hands raw and his gums bleed. I didn't realize OCD was passed down."

"No scientifc proof." Speed said. "But I've heard of lots of heredidary cases."

"Did you love her Tim?" Carmen asked suddenly.

He sighed. "I cared for her deeply, Carmen. I'm not going to lie to you. But I didn't love her."

"You did enough to make love to her." Carmen pointed out.

"It happened once. One time, one night. And it wasn't making love. We had sex. I fucked her. Plain and simple. Did I enjoy it? Did I want her? Of course I did. And so did she. But guess what? She called me by her husband's name. Several times. She was thinking about Flack the entire time."

"She loved him."

"I know. She told me. And she cried herself to sleep afterwards and instantly regretted it. And so did I. I thought about you the entire time, Carmen. She thought about him and I thought about you. Not my proudest moment, I admit. Sleeping with my friend's wife. I never thought in a million years she'd get pregnant. Shoulda used a condom. We were drunk and... it was the last thing on my mind. And if I had have used one, those kids wouldn't be here. Its a catch twenty-two."

Carmen nodded.

"Why didn't she tell me? She told me that those kids were Flack's when I saw her pregnant at your wedding."

"They turned down the DNA test. They weren't ready to hear the answer. Flack stepped up to the plate and accepted them as his own. And what would you have done if she had have told you? Run back from Miami to play daddy?"

"I would never have done that." Speed assured her. "He takes great care of them. He loves them no matter what. Takes a big man to raise another man's kids. I admire him for that."

"And this bullshit, about the zoo..."

"Not bullshit." Speed argued. "I am taking him to the zoo."

"I thought you were only town a few days."

Speed shrugged. "I'll call Horatio, tell him I need more time to attend to things here. No big deal."

"Please promise me you won't say anything to either of those boys about you being their real dad." Carmen begged.

"Jesus Christ, Carmen. What kind of person do you think I am? I would never do that."

"He's an amazing father Tim." she said. "They're loved and they have a nice place to live and they go to a good school and have all these friends and Sam would want..." she choked up. "Sam would want them to..." she broke down, a hand over her face as she sobbed.

Speed reached across and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh God...I miss her! I miss her, Tim! So much it hurts!"

She slinked off the swing and knelt in front of him between his legs, circling his waist with her arms as she cried into his lap. "I miss her...I can't believe she's gone...I can't...'

"It's okay, Carmen." he assured her. "I'm here. Cry, scream, rant and rave. I'm here."

"So stupid! She's stupid! She knew better! She knew not to go into a crime scene alone! How long has she been doing this? Long enough to know better! She wasn't some rookie CSI! She was the one they put the newbies with to train! Why was she so stupid?"

"It wasn't her fault, Carmen. You know that. How many times have we gone into a crime scene alone? This one time, something bad happened. Something really, really bad."

"I miss her! I'm trying so hard to take care of Don and the kids! I don't have time for my feelings! Or anyone who cares about them!"

"I care, Carmen. I care and I'm here. I wish I had been here all along."

She raised her head and looked at him. "So do I." she said.

He brushed her tears away with gentle fingertips. "God I love you." he said.

"I love you, Tim. I never stopped loving you. Everyday I prayed you come back to me."

"I'm back now, Carmen. And I'll stay if that's what you want."

"I do. I do want you to stay. With me. But things are complicated and..."

The sound of a car door opening and being slammed interrupted her sentence. She wiped her eyes and stood up, prepared to greet the newcomer.

"Oh. My. God." she breathed in disbelief, hand to her chest at the face coming towards them.

Speed stood up and turned to look. "Holy shit." he said.

One word escaped Carmen's lips. One name.

"Lindsay."

**Thanks to all of y'all reading and reviewing. I realize this chap. probably blew a lot of you away and I may have lost some of you. But I felt this made for a compelling read and I hope y'all keep tuned in.**


	50. When it all comes together

**When it all comes together **

**Okay, I've rated this M 'cause of a small part near the end**

"I can see it in your eyes  
and feel it in your touch  
I know that you're scared  
but you've never been this loved  
it's a long shot baby  
yeah I know it's true  
but if anyone can make it  
I'm betting on me and you  
Just keep on moving into me  
I know you're gonna see  
the best is yet to come."  
-Once in a Lifetime, Keith Urban

* * *

Hawkes' phone call to Women's and Children's had proved helpful. Samantha was taken to the obstetrics and gynaecology ward on the fourth floor , just a few hundred yards from Labor and Delivery, immediately following a brief exam in the emergency department. The chief of the department, Doctor Hutchinson, was an old mentor of Hawkes' from the latter's days as an intern at Mercy. The two had maintained a tight relationship and Hawkes was able to capitalize on said relationship and get the high profile doctor himself to examine her.

Which he was doing behind closed curtains in that room at the end of the hall on the south side of the fourth floor. Accompanied by Hawkes and a fresh faced tech who'd brought up a portable ultrasound machine twenty minutes before. Despite being the father, Flack was banished to the hall along with Carmen. Speed had gone to get them all some coffee, something to keep his mind off the problem at hand, and to call the rest of the team, especially Adam. Carmen leaned against the wall across from the room, thumbs hooked in the pockets of her jeans, glaring at Flack as he paced relentlessly.

"What?!" Flack snapped at Carmen, tired of the looks he was getting from her. "What do you want to say, Carmen? You wanna call me a mean bastard? A prick even? Well you've never been shy or kept your mouth shut before so say it. Get it out of your system!"

"You were fighting with her? I can't believe you."

"We were arguing. Not fighting." Flack corrected her.

"In case you don't realize it, you are a scary bastard when you're angry, Flack. And you get angry with her? She's pregnant! She's vulnerable and you pick on her!? You're a goddamn bully, Flack."

"I wasn't picking on her!" he shot back. "I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. So don't even fucking accuse me of it!"

A nurse - tall with short cropped silvery grey hair and wearing stark white scrub set and glasses that dangled from a chain around her neck- stuck her head around the corner several yards away and gave them a foul look.

"Excuse me." she said sternly. "We have patients trying to get better here. Please keep your voices down or take it outside."

"Look lady!" Flack nearly took her head off. "I am dealing with some serious shit here, all right! Go back to changing bed pans or diapers and mind your own fucking business."

"Don!" Carmen exclaimed, startled by his outburst. "I'm sorry." she apologized to the fuming nurse. "I am so sorry. Just his wife is here and its stressful for him."

"Keep him quiet or I'll call security." the nurse warned and disappeared behind the corner.

"Security. Right." Flack snorted. "Have you seen those guys? Immigrants. Probably no green card. One call to DHS and I'd have them on the next boat back to..."

"She's right." Carmen cut him off . "We need to stop arguing and worry about what's important. Sam and the baby."

"You know I love her, Carmen." he said, his voice quiet. "Her and the baby. You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt either of them."

"So what happened, Don? I swear to God, if anything happens to her or that baby, I will never, ever forgive you."

"You think I wanted this to happen? She started in on me about not taking pain meds and she went behind my back and talked to Danny about it. Before that she talked to Hawkes. And I know for a fact she's talked to you. You two tell each other anything. I was pissed. And she got on me and would not stop. And I snapped. I'm not proud of it. Believe me. I'm not."

"You have to go easy on her, Don. She's in a delicate way. She doesn't need the stress. She needs this pregnancy to be as relaxed and easy going as possible. You can't just go at her like that. I know you didn't mean it and that you'd never do anything to hurt her or the baby..."

He shook his head and stared at the ground. "I'm just like my father." he said quietly. "Snapping at her like that. I shouldn't have. I'm just like him."

"No. You're not. You're just new at this stuff. A fiancee, baby on the way. It's overwhelming. You just need to take it easy, Don. Sam's just worried about you. She loves you. She doesn't like to see you in pain like that. It kills her to see it. She doesn't want to, or need to, see you like that. So stop being so goddamn selfish and just take the pills. She's going to be your wife. She's the mother of your unborn child. She's not just some girl off the street you knocked up by mistake."

"I know." he sighed heavily. "I love her, Carmen. You know I do. I didn't mean for this to happen. What if..."

He didn't get a chance to finish. Hawkes and the tall white haired doctor conversing as they left the room, the technician pushing the ultrasound machine out. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands trembled.

"Detective Flack." the elderly doctor said with a nod. "Every thing's fine. The baby's heart beat is strong and we were able to see movement. The intense pain and the bleeding was caused by a ruptured cyst that was undetected in the previous ultrasound. It's most likely been there for years and the swelling of the uterus caused it to rupture. It's not life threatening to her or the baby."

"Thank God." Carmen said as both she and Flack breathed huge sighs of relief

"However..."

Flack didn't like the sound of that.

"Her blood pressure is extremely high. Which could be life threatening to both of them. It could lead to pre-eclampsia. Which usually comes on or after twenty weeks gestation but I have seen it sooner."

Flack looked to Hawkes for a simpler explanation.

"Pre-eclampsia is a serious condition." the ME turned CSI explained in that gentle tone of his. "Characterized by protein in the urine, high blood pressure, swelling, sudden weight gain, headaches, changes in vision. It's the leading cause of death in modern day maternal and fetal fatalities."

"So does she have this pre-eclampsia whatever?" Flack asked the doctor.

"She's at risk for it." he replied.

"And what can we do to make sure she doesn't get it?"

"She needs proper rest. A proper sleeping schedule. Lots of vitamins and minerals. I've written some prescriptions I want her on right away that are perfectly healthy for the baby. And she needs to avoid high stress situations."

"Right." Flack said with a slight chuckle. "You know what she does for a living? High stress situations are in the job description."

"Well you'll all have to keep that stress to a manageable limit." the doctor said. "It will be extremely difficult in your specific situation, I know. But in the long run both her and the baby will be healthier because of it."

"We'll do what we can." Carmen assured him. "All of us." she shot Flack a pointed glance.

"I certainly hope so." the doctor said. "Now here's the prescriptions I want you to get filled for her ASAP." he handed Flack a small stack of papers. "I assume as civil servants you have coverage."

Flack nodded. "We're both covered on our own plans. We're not legally married yet. So however we work the benefit thing right now is good."

"It is." the doctor agreed. "Because what those medications are worth would pay for your pharmacist's mortgage for a month."

"Does she have to stay overnight?" Flack asked.

"She's free to go once I fill out the discharge papers. The bleeding has all but stopped and anything that does leak out she can just wear a sanitary napkin to keep off of her clothing. If she has anymore profuse bleeding or even pain, bring her back. Sometimes a burst cyst can cause stress on the fetus and induce a miscarriage. Don't hesitate. If something is wrong, bring her back ASAP."

"I will." Flack said. "Absolutely."

"My advice is for her to sleep on her back or on her side. Keep pressure off the uterus. And for sexual relations, stay away from missionary position, which obviously also puts pressure on the stomach area."

"That's going to kill you." Carmen remarked dryly.

Flack glared at her. Then turned back to the older man in front of him. "Thank you, Doctor," he offered his hand. "I appreciate you coming in to look at her."

"She's a lovely young woman. A great patient. Very brave. And anything as a favor to Sheldon. Take care, Detective." he shook Flack's hand. "Enjoy the next five and a half months. And fatherhood."

"I will. Thank you." he watched as the doctor headed down the hall. "That was damn scary." he said to Carmen and Hawkes.

"Learn your lesson?" Carmen asked.

"Devine..." he said with an irritated sigh.

She held up her hands in self defence.

"Thanks, Hawkes." Flack said. "For everything."

"No problem. You should go in and see her. She was asking for you."

"She probably wants to kick your ass." Carmen said.

Flack glared at her and then disappeared into the room.

* * *

They got back to the hotel an hour later after getting her prescriptions filled at the CVS three blocks away. The place they usually went to for all her other meds and his pain pills was a smaller, family owned place around the corner from his apartment, but the chances of getting the meds filled that night were slim to none so he had to resort to the larger chain store that was packed full of sick people and screaming kids and seniors that dumped their change on the counter and took ten minutes to count out ten bucks in quarters, nickles and dimes. And the doctor hadn't been joking. Even with benefits, the co-payment on the pills ended up being nearly a hundred bucks out of Flack's pocket. Not that he was complaining. She needed them and whatever she needed was neither too big nor too small as far as he was concerned.

It was ten minutes to ten by the time they got to their room. He had wanted to just take her back to the apartment and come back to the hotel alone tomorrow to check out and pick their stuff up. But she wouldn't hear of it. He'd payed ridiculous money for the room and they were going to use it. She changed into one of his shirts as pyjamas and settled back against the pillows he so diligently arranged for her and watched television while he cleaned the mess in the bathroom. Afterwards he ordered her fruit salad and some milk and a huge ice cream sundae with hot caramel sauce from room service and they sat on the bed and she watched t.v and relaxed while he tried to make sense of all her medication and work out an order for her to take it in. Writing out a detailed schedule on the pad of complimentary paper you got in every hotel room.

Sam had honestly never seem him take that much time and effort in anything. Even work.

"Okay." Flack said. "You have to take this one..." he held up a yellow pill bottle. "one pill at a time, an hour before meals. That's to keep the protein out of your urine. You have to take this one..." he held up a larger bottle. "one at a time, three times a day with food or mill or it'll rot your stomach. That's the blood pressure meds. And this one..." he held up the last vial. "This is for your swelling. Two pills twice a day on an empty stomach."

She frowned and licked ice cream off her spoon. "I will never remember all this." she said.

"Which is why when we get home I'll type this out on the computer and print out two copies. One we'll keep on the fridge, the other I want you to keep at the lab."

"You are going way overboard." she sighed.

"Three hours ago you were in hysterics thinking you were having a miscarriage. And now you're telling me I'm going overboard? No such thing as overboard sweetheart. I am being cautious. I don't want anything happening to you or my kid. And these meds will do you both some good. Okay? Please take this seriously."

"You're right." she said and finished her ice cream and sat the dish and spoon on the night stand. She leaned sideways to kiss his cheek. "I'm sorry, baby. And I'm sorry about earlier. The arguement we got into. About those meds and Danny and..."

"I don't want to talk about it." Flack said. "Okay? I feel shitty enough. I never should have freaked on you like that. I was selfish and immature and..."

She lay her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. Kissed him softly. "Thought you didn't want to talk about it." she said with a smile.

"I don't. But I want you to know that I love you and I'm sorry. That I didn't mean to upset you like that. You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I know you'd never hurt us, Donnie. It was stupid on both our parts. And we need to try not to fight so much. 'Cause we fight way too much. And I hate it when we fight."

"So do I." he said and kissed her softly.

She put a hand on the back of his neck when he went to pull away, holding him there as she deepened the kiss. Her other hand sliding up his leg and towards his crotch.

"Don't even think about it." he said and pulled away. "None of that is happening tonight. Not after what happened earlier. I can't believe you'd even consider it. Being inside of you would probably hurt you like a bastard right now."

"There's other things we can do that don't require penetration." she said. "'Cause you're right. It would be painful. It's not a good idea tonight."

"I don't think anything is a good idea tonight." Flack told her.

"Really?" she pouted dramatically. "The doctor said I needed to relax." she kissed his ear, tracing the outer edge with the tip of her tongue while slipping her hand into his crotch. "And a real amazing orgasm would help me relax."

"I just don't think that..." a groan cut off his words as she licked the inside of his ear and squeezed his cock through his jeans.

"Don't think what?" she asked. "You don't think it's a good idea and you want me to stop?"

"Fuck..." he moaned when she bit his ear lob gently and then kissed and sucked at the sensitive spot just below the ear.

She giggled. "That spot always gets you." she said, gently nibbling her way down his neck.

"I just think that we should..." he moaned again, despite his best efforts, the hand on his cock coaxing him quickly to an erection.

"You know what I think we should do?" she asked, taking his hand and placing it between her legs. "We've done this a few times. Remember last month at the movies? Halfway through?"

''Cause the movie you forced me to take you to was boring." he said. "Had to liven it up someways.'

"And you did. It was fun. And you enjoyed yourself."

"So did you." he reminded her.

She smiled and kissed him. Long and deep. Unsnapped his jeans and then unzipped them. Slipped her hand through the opening of his boxers.

He groaned at the touch of her hand and deepened the kiss and gently pushed her onto her back, lying beside her. "Sure about this?" he asked, a hand on her stomach.

"I'm sure."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Just keep everything outside and we'll be fine." she assured him.

"That'll be tough. You like the fingers inside. All three of them."

She shivered at those words and as he unbuttoned the shirt and lay it open. He leaned down to kiss his way across the smooth, pale skin of her collarbone, his tongue trailing over the top of her breast and down to her nipple, swirling around it before drawing it into his mouth.

She moaned lightly and rolled onto her side, slipped her hands inside his pants once again and releasing his cock.

"This makes me feel like I'm back in high school, making out with someone on my parents couch." Flack chuckled, their foreheads touching.

"Ever get caught?" she asked.

"Couple times. My old man kicked my ass, gave me the you better be using a condom speech."

"You obviously didn't listen." she giggled. "'Cause your sperm fertilized my egg."

"Ooops." he said and kissed her gently. Then bent his head to kiss and suck lightly at her neck.

She moaned and tightened her grip around his cock and jerked him off nice and slow.

"Baby..." he groaned. "God, that feels so good." he slipped his hand between her legs as she put one leg over his hip. His fingertips gently grazed her fine hair, then sought out her clit, rubbing slowly and lightly, hearing her groan against him.

"You feel good?" he asked.

"You have to ask? Isn't it obvious?"

"Yeah...considering how wet you are, I'd say you like it a lot. And what you're doing...that feels good."

"You mean this?" she asked and pulled from the base to the tip. "Or this?" she ran her thumb over the head that was already leaking pre-cum.

"Both...both feel good...so goddamn good...you're okay with what I'm doing?"

She nodded. "I just need you to..." she groaned when he rubbed her clit harder. "Never mind. You don't need to be told. You know what you're doing.You know me so well."

"I would hope so." Flack said and kissed her before she buried her face in his neck. He could hear her soft moans and quickened breaths. Her sounds becoming louder as she got closer and closer to orgasm. Her hand working its magic. Fuck, she was good. So good. She was a damn genius with her hands.

He groaned loud when she tightened her hand around him and yanked at him quicker. He lowered his head to suck at her nipple and rubbed faster at her clit. She came just like that, crying out his name and shuddering against him. Her hand stopped moving. The pause was agonizing. When she composed herself, he brought his head up and kissed her.

"All right?" he asked.

"Oh God, yeah..." she breathed. "So good. My turn."

She pushed him onto his back and before he could even ask what she was doing, had yanked his pants and boxers down and closed her mouth over the head of his cock.

"Fuck..." he groaned, gripping the sheets below him and burying the fingers of his other hand in her hair.

God, she was even more of a genius with her mouth. Sucking on the head and rolling her tongue on the underside where she knew was so sensitive. Alternating between shallow and deep movements, working him with her hand as well as he babbled incoherently, uttering profanities and his toes curling into the mattress. It wasn't going to take long. She'd already brought him so close with her hand. And now, the way she was flicking her tongue across the leaking tip...

"Samantha...fuck...you gotta ...shit..." he couldn't even form a thought let alone a sentence. "Gonna cum...shit...fuck..." he was panting, and she knew he always was reduced to panting when he was close to orgasm.

She sucked at the head, jerked him off harder and withing seconds he was coming into her mouth. She swallowed every last drop. Then skimmed the tip of her tongue from the head to base and then kissed her way from his stomach to his lips.

His eyes were closed. Arms limp on the bed.

"You okay?" she asked, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand and taking a sip.

"Hmmmm?" was his response.

"Are you okay?" she repeated.

"I...I don't know...I can't think right now...who am I? Where am I? Jesus...fuck..."

She smiled. "You are so very welcome." she said.

"You...I...you'd do that really fucking good."

"I am a master." she declared. "But you've been the most excellent teacher."

"You are the master." he agreed and sighed contently.

* * *

A knock came to the door.

Flack groaned. "Go away!" he called out.

"Uh...it's me...it's Adam..." came the muffled response.

"Go away, Adam!" Sam yelled. "We're trying to sleep!"

"Yeah..." Flack chuckled "Sleep...right..."

She clamped a hand over his mouth.

He mumbled something into her palm.

She pressed harder against his mouth.

He mumbled even louder and started shaking his head.

"What do you want, Adam?" she asked.

"I really, really, really need to talk to you." he replied. "Really."

"Hang on a few seconds then. I need to get out of bed." she removed her hand from Flack's mouth. "What were you trying to say?" she asked.

"I was saying I hope that wasn't the same hand you used to jerk me off."

She grinned impishly. "Sorry."

"That's fucking sick." he declared and took the bottle of water from her.

"It's all your germs anyway." she reasoned and climbed out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweats and his t-shirt to slip into. "And you might want to clean yourself up in case he wants to come in."

"Yes, m'am." Flack said and snapped off a salute.

"Smart ass." she complained and went to the door.

"I really need to talk to you." Adam was almost out of breath from running from one side of the hotel to the other. His face was flushed. "Can I come in?"

"You couldn't just call me from your room?" Sam asked, giving Flack a chance to fix himself up.

"I wanted to do it face to face." Adam panted. "Can I come in and sit down for a second?"

Sam glanced back into the room. Flack was already back in his jeans and watching t.v. as if nothing had ever happened. "Sure." she said to her brother and held open the door.

"Hey, Flack." Adam managed, bending over, hands on his thighs, trying to catch breath.

"Hey, Adam. What's up with you? Where's the fire?"

Adam held up a finger, needed a moment to compose himself.

"So glad you're not out on the street chasing perps." Sam commented, going to the bar fridge and taking out a bottle of water and opening it before handing it to him.

"Thanks." Adam said and straightend up and took a sip. "First off, let me just say that if I interrupted anything, I am so sorry."

"We just finished." Flack told him.

Adam frowned. "Okay...that I did not need to hear."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I am. But you may not be."

Sam arched an eyebrow. Flack listened intently.

"When you first went to the hospital, I called mom and Sarge like you asked and told them you weren't feeling well." Adam began, sipping his water. "Well they weren't in so I left a message and by the time Sarge called me back, you were already back from the hospital so I could tell him everything was okay."

Sam knew there was more to this than Adam was saying. "Okay...so why the hurry to come down here and see me?"

"Well, you see, when Sarge asked what was wrong with you I had no idea you hadn't told him and mom yet and I assumed you had so...you are going to kill me...please don't kill me...especially you, Flack."

"Adam..." Sam said calmly. "What did you do?"

"I kinda sort said there was a problem with the baby."

Sam blinked.

Flack groaned audibly.

"You what?" Sam asked.

"Like I said, I assumed you had already told them. And Sarge said what baby and I said yours and Flack's baby."

"You didn't." Sam said.

"I did. Like I said, I thought you had told them. Needless to say, Sarge was none to happy."

"And?" Sam pressed. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He said nothing."

"Adam Gregory Ross...what did he say?"

"He said nothing. He just hung up on me."

"And?" she pressed once more.

The phone on the bedside table began to ring. They all looked at it.

"And that would be him." Adam squeaked.

**Thanks to all of you who are R and R'ing. And thanks for the outpouring of support for that last chap. It was not an easy one to write. The decision to make Speed the father of the twins was a difficult one to make and I am glad y'all are sticking with me. Keep up the reviewing. And to all you lurkers adding me to your alerts, please review!!**

**And to all of you: show me some love and vote for me for the awards!!**

**And check out Aphina's Devine Intervention where Sam is appearing!!**


	51. Between two dads

**Between two dads**

**THIS IS RATED M FOR A NICE LITTLE PART AT THE END**

"Some day some boy will come and ask me for your hand,  
but I won't say 'yes' to him unless I know,  
he's the half that makes you whole, he has a poet's soul,  
and the heart of a man's man  
I know he'll say that he's in love,  
but between you and me, he won't be good enough."  
-My Little Girl, Tim McGraw

* * *

No one moved. All three stared at the cordless phone resting in the charger on top of the bedside table. Not one of them made a move or the effort to answer it.

"Maybe one of you should get that." Adam nervously suggested. "He'll only keep calling."

Flack glanced at Samantha, a bottle of beer at his lips.

"Don't look at me!" she exclaimed.

"He's your father." Flack pointed out.

"Which is exactly why I am not answering. I all ready know what kind of freak out he's going to have."

"I just don't get why you guys haven't told them yet." Adam said, momentarily relaxed when the phone stopped ringing.

"Don was telling his parents tomorrow and then I was going to call mom and Sarge and tell them in the evening." Sam told him. "We wanted to tell everyone here first and get a grip on becoming parents ourselves without dealing with our families too. Especially Sarge and his ranting about pre-marital sex."

Adam laughed. "Neither of us listened to that one." he said. "Especially you. You're more obvious about it than I am."

Sam put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "What is that suppose to mean?" she asked.

"You know, getting pregnant before you're married, practically living with Flack. And that time that Sarge caught you and Zack out back and you guys were..."

"Okay, Adam. Enough." she said. "Let's pretend that incident and him, never happened."

"Can't be any worse than having sex in the back of my SUV in an alley." Flack chimed in.

Adam stared at his sister, horrified by the revelation. "You what? You... you have no shame. Either of you. What's wrong with you people?"

Flack shrugged and stretched out his legs and leaned back against the head board. "Hey, your sister was hurtin' for it and I wasn't going to argue. Besides, I had her cuffed to the steering wheel anyway."

Adam looked as if he was going to be sick. "You...that...that's my sister!"

"Your sister's a nympho." Flack said matter of factly and sipped his beer and flipped the channels on the t.v. with the remote.

"That isn't the entire story." Sam argued. "And no, you're not telling him the entire story either."

Flack grinned. "Our little secret." he said.

"Jesus Christ." Adam was mortified. "You two are seriously disturbed. You're both unhealthy. No wonder she's pregnant."

"Your sister is pregnant 'cause she has a masters degree but can't figure out how to take the pill properly." Flack corrected him.

"How hard could it be?" Adam inquired.

"That's exactly what I said." Flack agreed.

The phone rang again.

Adam blanched and hightailed it for the door. "This is for you two to deal with." he announced.

"You caused this!" Sam reminded him.

"And you should have told them long before now!" Adam shot back and she tossed a pillow at him as he ducked out the door.

The phone was on its tenth ring. Clint was relentless. Flack took a huge swig of beer, and leaned across the bed, sitting the bottle on the nightstand and reaching for the phone. "He's right you know, we should have told our parents way before this." he said. "You realize he's gonna tear me a new one as soon as I answer, don''t you?"

"I know. But it's only going to piss him off more if we don't answer." Sam told him.

Flack sighed and scooped the phone up and pressed talk. "Yeah?" he answered.

"Detective Flack." came that deep, baritone voice.

Can't be good, Flack thought. He called me by my last name. And threw Detective in there. "Clint." he said calmly. Cautiously.

"How's my daughter?"

"She's better. We had a ...she had a...a scare. We had a scare and I took her to the hospital and she got checked out and now she's doing all right. She's in good hands."

"Apparently you've been doing a lot of things with those hands, young man."

Flack was not in the mood to listen to that kind of bullshit at thirty years old. Especially from his future father in law. At least getting off had put the usual snarkiness on the back burner. For now. But if Clint pushed him...

"What's this about my daughter being with child?" Clint asked.

"Maybe you should talk to Samantha." Flack suggested.

Sam swatted him with a pillow and clamped a hand over her mouth. She shook her head vigorously.

Talk to him, Flack mouthed.

She continued to shake her head.

"Actually," Clint was saying. "I'd like to talk to you, Detective. Man to man. Seeing as you were man enough to get my daughter pregnant."

"Your daughter should be the one talking to you." Flack insisted and glared hard at Sam.

"No way in hell!" Sam whispered and took off for the bathroom.

Flack heard the click of the door being locked. You little bitch, he thought. "What would you like me to say?" he asked Clint, leaning back against the pillows and grabbing his beer. Resigned to the fact that this was now or never. Sam was, after all, Clint's daughter, and she was pregnant with his grandchild.

"You could start by telling me how this happened." Clint replied.

"I think you know how babies are conceived." Flack said.

Silence on the other end.

Either that sealed my coffin or he found that funny or he passed out in shock, Flack thought.

"I know how babies are made, son. I am not a stupid man. What I want to know is how you made a baby with my daughter. You're father never teach you about contraception? A man has to take control of things like that. Take responsibility. This wasn't planned, obviously?"

"It wasn't intentional." Flack concurred. "We didn't plan on getting pregnant. It was an accident."

"A mistake you mean.'

Flack cringed at the use of that word. "Calling it a mistake is a bit harsh." he said. "It would have been a mistake if we didn't want the baby. It was unplanned, but not unwanted. We want the baby. We love the baby. We love each other."

"Mm-hm." Clint snorted. "Heard that song and dance before many times, son."

"If it makes any difference, we're getting married in three months." Flack said.

There was a loud clatter as Clint dropped the phone.

So there, Flack thought with a smirk and sipped his beer and grabbed the remote to turn up the channel on ESPN to catch the basketball highlights.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph." Clint managed after he'd recovered. "It just gets worse."

"Clint, you need to deal with the fact that you're daughter isn't a little girl anymore. She grows up more and more every day. And I love her and this is what we want. She's going to be my wife. And she's going to be a mother."

"Look, don't get me wrong, son. I like you. I really do. You're a stand up, respectable, law abiding fella. But all of this...it is way too soon for all of this. For both of you."

Flack could feel his body starting to tense up. Hear his voice getting defensive. "With all due respect, Clint, that's mine and Samantha's business. we're both adults. We did a dumb, immature thing by not taking precautions but we don't regret it. I love her. She loves me. That's all there is to it. This feels right to us and that's what matters."

"What matters is my daughter and now this grand baby of mine. I think what Samantha needs is to come back here or a while, stay with her mother and I, get herself together."

Like fucking hell, Flack thought. "You need to be rational about this Clint. That isn't necessary and you know it."

"Rational? My daughter was impregnated by, and is now going to marry, a guy she barely knows. I know what's best for my daughter, and what's best for her is to come home to me and her mom and get her head on straight again. See what she really wants with no outside interference from anyone."

Flack laughed. "Yeah, right. And you really think Sam is gonna let you do that?"

"She'll understand she needs to do it." Clint said confidently.

"There is no way in hell that I am gonna let you take my wife and my baby to Arizona." Flack argued.

"She's not your wife yet." Clint reminded him.

"Fine. My fiancee. But my fiancee is pregnant with my baby and you're not taking them anywhere. Got that? This is my family. And you're not screwing up my family 'cause you wanna play military daddy on her."

"A couple of months away will do her some good. Make her see if the life she has there, with you, is really the one she wants."

"She wouldn't have said yes when I asked her to marry me if this isn't what she wanted. We wouldn't be planning for our baby. She made the decision to be with me and marry me and have my kid and you need to accept that."

"She's making these decisions because of you." Clint fought back. "Because she doesn't know how to say no."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Clint! She's thirty years old! She makes her own decisions!"

"Not if you're filling her head with all this bullshit nonsense about having a life together and promising her forever. Pressuring her into things."

Remain calm Flack, he told himself. Remain calm. He grabbed the bottle of pain killers sitting amongst all of Sam's pills, and holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, twisted the cap off the bottle and dumped two small tablets into his hand. He swallowed them with a swig of beer and recapped the bottle and put it back. And it wasn't as if he were in pain. He actually felt pretty damn good. But he needed something to calm him down.

"I am not pressuring her into anything." Flack told him. "You think she'd really be here if she didn't want to be? I am not forcing her to get married or have this baby."

"Anything looks good after Zack." Clint said. "She needs time to think if she's doing this for the right reasons or if she's just doing it because she's afraid to be alone. As a man, I thought you'd be rational about this.'

"Sam is not scared of being alone. She has a fantastic support network here if anything ever went wrong. She has tons of people at her beck and call who would do anything for her. Stop being so overbearing and let her make her own decisions."

"My daughter is vulnerable and needs someone to make the decisions for her at this time." Clint reasoned.

"Well she doesn't need her daddy doing it for her. You can't protect her from the fucking world."

"I can protect her from guys like you and Zack and I'll come there and drag her ass back if I have to.'

"Over my dead body. You're not taking my wife or my child anywhere. That's my kid and I have legal rights when it comes to anything regarding that baby whether its born or not. You come here, you'll be leaving alone 'cause Sam does not leave this city. Understand me?"

"You tell my daughter I'll be there in two days to bring her ass back to me and her momma."

"Don't even fucking think about it!" Flack warned and hung up, tossing the phone onto the bed despite the fact he wanted to toss it against the wall.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the head board. Trying to calm himself. His heart felt like it was going to jump right out of his chest.

* * *

The phone rang again and he opened one eye to look down at it. He waited the ten rings for it to stop, then settled back against the pillows and tried to compose himself. When the phone rang again, his eyes snapped open and he grabbed the offending object and jumped off the bed.

"Samantha!" he pounded on the bathroom door. "For fuck sakes! Get out here and talk to your father before this phone ends up across the room or up someones ass!"

"Okay...calm down...give me a second..."

"Are you okay?" he asked, fearing the worst as to what was taking her so long in there.

"I was just going to the bathroom and washing up and brushing my teeth."

"But you're okay though?"

"Don..." she said as she unlocked the door and greeted him with her toothbrush in her mouth. "I'm fine. See? Perfectly fine."

"Any more bleeding?"

"A little bit of left over stuff. Nothing major."

He frowned.

"Nothing major." she assured him and went back to the sink to spit and rinse her mouth and toothbrush.

The phone rang again.

Flack held it out to her as she walked back to him. "He's pissed."

"How pissed is pissed?" she asked.

"On a scale of one to ten? A hundred."

She sighed and took the phone. She pressed talk and held it to her ear. "Hello?...hi, daddy..."

Flack stepped out of her way to let her back into the bedroom area and went into the washroom himself to get cleaned up. Leaving the door open so he could listen to the conversation and put an end to it if it got out of hand. He stood in the doorway, brushing his teeth and watching her as she walked around the room in a pair of black satin lounging pants and a cream colored tank top. Neither did little to hide that small yet visible bump she already showed. The most enormous sense of love and pride went through him every time he saw it.

"Dad," she began in a quiet, calm voice, sitting down in the chair at the table by the window. Pulling over the fruit salad and a fork. She couldn't believe how much she could eat in the last two weeks alone. She dipped a piece of cantaloupe into the dip that came with the salad and popped it into her mouth.

"You need to calm down just a bit." she continued. "I realize I should have called you guys and told you earlier, but Don and I needed some time to just deal with the news on our own before having to listen to other people toss in their two cents worth...well, no, your opinion actually doesn't make a difference..." she listened to the ranting and raving, chewing on a strawberry. "You are entitled to your opinion but I don't want to hear it and neither does Don. It doesn't change anything... you don't have a say in any of this, dad. This is our life and our decision and we are keeping the baby and getting married and that's that."

Flack shook his head at that last part. He could only imagine what was being said on the other end of that conversation. "Tell him to fuck off." he said around the toothbrush in his mouth.

Sam waved him back into the bathroom.

"Want me to tell him?"

Sam frowned and pointed in the direction of the bathroom

"Okay...okay...I'm going." he said and disappeared inside.

"I know how you feel," Sam said into the phone. "You let me know every time we talk. Which isn't often anymore. He is not just some cop, dad. Okay? That's his job. Not his life. And he's a detective and he's a damn good one and you need to respect him for that...of course I'm defending him!" she felt her temper rise.

Flack heard her voice pick up in volume and came out of the bathroom, pulling off his shirt and sitting down on the edge of the bed, watching her out of the corner of his eye while pretending to be interested in what was on t.v.

"You're right! I am sensitive when it comes to him!" she exclaimed. "You're not being fair, dad! Don is a good man and he loves me and this baby and he takes good care of us...you barely even know him!" she pushed the food away, suddenly not very hungry and got to her feet and went to the window, looking out at the skyline. "You barely know him yet you have so much to say about him and make so many judgements about him! ...maybe you should get to know him better! He's the father of your grandchild and he's going to be your son in law in three months...don't yell at me!" she screamed into the phone. "What the fuck is your problem!?"

"Sam," Flack spoke gently, calmly. "Take it easy. Don't get upset. It's not worth getting upset over."

"I am sorry I disappointed you, dad!" she continued to rave. "You don't like my profession, you don't like the city I live in, you're pissed that I got pregnant before I got married. You're pissed Don's a cop and you've got this major hang up about cops 'cause of Zack...he is nothing like Zack!...don't ever, ever compare him to Zack!...you would realize he's not if you gave him a chance!"

"Samantha." Flack spoke more authoritatively this time. "Calm down. Just calm down. You know what the doctor said. Please just calm down."

"Dad he has every right to get involved! He's going to be my husband and he's the father of my baby! He's worried about us! I notice you're not asking me about why I was at the hospital! You just want to rant and rave about me and Don and what we're doing with our lives...the doctor said to avoid stress or something could happen to the baby...or is that something you'd be okay with? Something happening to your bastard grandchild as you so eloquently put it!"

She felt a slight twinge in her stomach and grimaced and laid her hand on the spot.

Flack noticed it and jumped up from the bed. "Hang up." he ordered. "Hang up the fucking phone."

"This is your grandchild no matter how he or she was conceived, dad!" she continued. "No, we are not getting married because I got pregnant!...because I love him...more than I ever thought I'd ever love someone and I want to be with him forever...well I'm sorry you feel that way...don't even think about coming here! There is no way in hell I am going to anywhere with you! I am staying here with Don. You don't have a fucking say in this!"

Flack snatched the phone out of her hand, pressed the end button to hang up the call and tossed the phone onto the table. Then he went and yanked the cord out of the wall behind the nightstand.

Sam watched him do it with a bemused expression on her face. "You'll have to pay for that if you wrecked it." she said.

"So? It's worth it. I said to hang up. Why didn't you hang up?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just used to fighting back when he gets like that."

"Well you can't do that anymore, okay You can't. You have to to think about the baby. It's not just you anymore."

"Whoa...did I not just say those exact words to you about six hours ago?"

"I'm serious, Samantha. You promised me you'd take it easy. This shit with your dad is not taking it easy. Are you okay? You have pain or anything? I saw you grab your stomach."

"I didn't grab it." she said. "I rubbed it. And it went away. I wouldn't even call it pain. It felt more like a pinch. I'm fine. Just...just pissed off. Can you believe the nerve of that man."

Flack sighed. "He has a right to his opinion." he said.

"Don't be so diplomatic. Don't think it'll hurt my feelings if you say how you feel."

"I just think that your dad needs to deal with the fact that you're all grown up and in control of your own life." Flack told her.

"That's the family rated version of what you really want to say." Sam grinned.

"Trust me, it's better if I don't say anything. 'Cause if I get started, I won't stop. I just don't like the way he's acting or some of the things he said to you. Especially that bastard grandchild part."

She nodded sadly. "Yeah...that part hurt."

He reached out and laid a hand on the side of her face, his thumb stroking her smooth cheek. He kissed her softly. "Does it matter, baby? What he says?"

"Not really. But this is our baby, Don. I don't want anyone saying things like that."

"You need to stop worrying so much about what other people say and just worry about yourself. Can you do that for me? For the baby? 'Cause I don't want anything happening to you guys." he pressed a feathery kiss to her forehead. "And this crap about him coming to New York..."

"I was thinking that maybe I should go there for a while. If I do, it might calm him down a bit. To pacify him."

"What? Are you serious? Fuck, Sam, you can't be serious."

"I just think that if I go willingly, it avoids him coming here. He'll calm down and be less hostile towards you and..."

"No. No way." he said forcefully. "There is no way in hell that I am gonna let you and my unborn baby get on a plane and fly to Arizona and then you guys be gone for who knows how long. No way. You're insane if you think I'd go for that."

"It would only be for a couple weeks, Donnie." she assured him.

"Right. A couple of weeks. Then a couple of weeks turns into a couple of months. He'll get you there and never let you leave. Next thing, I'll be getting a call to say my kid was born. No. You're not going. I can't let you go. I can't take the chance of something happening to you or the baby. Or both. Or having him change your mind about me."

"What? Oh my God. You actually think that could happen?"

"Could it?"

"No! Nothing could ever, ever change my mind about you. I love you. I'm marrying you. I'm having your baby. Nothing he can say will ever make me change my mind. I can't believe you would even think that!"

"I can't let you go. I'm sorry. I know you hate being told what to do. But I can't. Let him come here. He'll see we're happy and we're serious about this. But you're not taking my baby all that way. What if something happens while you're there and I'm all the way in New York?"

"Nothing will happen." she assured him.

"Sam, you can't go. Please don't go. You need to be here where I can keep an eye on you and the baby. You get there and I'm worried he's gonna make you see that I'm not the guy for yo. That I'm just some dumb homicide detective and you're the crazy smart scientist."

"You need to let that go, Donnie. This whole complex with our educations. You don't give yourself enough credit. You are smart. Very smart. I mean, you were smart enough to hook up with me, weren't you?"

He grinned broadly, the dimples in his cheeks pronounced. "Smartest thing I have ever done." he declared.

"And besides. I don't hook up with dumb or boring guys. I hook up with hot guys." she hooked her finger in the waist of his jeans and pulled him closer to her. "Really, really hot guys." she reached for his belt buckle.

He backed away. "Don't even think about it." he said.

She pouted dramatically. "Why not?"

"'Cause tonight is not a good night. You need rest. All the rest you can get."

"What I need Detective Flack, is sex." she ran her hand down onto his crotch.

"Sam, come on. I'm serious. This can't happen. I'll hurt you. The doctor said..."

"The doctor said be careful. Not to put pressure on my stomach. He didn't say we couldn't have sex."

"Sam, seriously. What's going to happen is that I am going to sleep in one bed and you're going to sleep in the other."

"I don't fucking think so, Donald!"

"If I come anywhere near you, I won't be able to stop. So just lie down there and I'll lie down over here. Okay?"

"Why can't we sleep in the same bed?"

"We won't sleep and you know it."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Tonight, yeah. Humor me. Please?"

"Fine." she huffed and went to the other bed and threw down the sheets. "But don't you dare wake me up at three a.m wanting head or something. Go in the john and use your hand if you get horny."

"You don't have to cut out everything." he complained.

"Sorry. You lost the chance." she turned out the lamp and slipped into bed. "Good night." she said.

"I love you." he said, amused by her sulking.

"Good night, Don."

"This is the best thing for you. Trust me."

She pretended to snore.

He leaned over the bed and kissed the top of her head. "You can be a real little bitch sometimes." he said. "You're lucky I love you as much as I do."

"You're the lucky one buddy." she informed him, rolling over onto her back. "Now kiss me goodnight."

He bent down and kissed her softly. "I love you." he told her.

"I know. I love you, too." she rolled back over onto her side and giggled. "Sometimes."

* * *

Flack couldn't sleep. Not that he couldn't. Couldn't was the wrong word. The two percocets he'd taken along with the six beers he'd consumed should have been enough to knock him on his ass, and the second his head hit the pillow he'd felt himself drifting off. Only problem was, Samantha wouldn't let him sleep. There she was in the next bed, where she kept rambling -endlessly it seemed- about anything that she could think of. From previous cases -even ones back in Arizona- to what she wanted the baby's nursery to look like and how she hoped that she wasn't stuck working with Adam day in and day out. She was bugging the shit out of him and getting great enjoyment out of it. Because she knew if she drove him nuts enough, he'd give in and either come and sleep with her or tell her to shut up and get over there with him. The more he told her to be quiet, the more she talked.

She'd fallen silent at quarter to one. And just as he was thinking 'finally' and drifting off to sleep, he heard her get out of bed and assumed she was going to the bathroom. His immediate thoughts were bad ones. Sam was not the type to get up in the middle of the night to go to the washroom. She never woke up for anything, never mind a washroom break. And he was just about to ask her if she was okay when she jumped on him. Nearly knocking the wind right out of him as she came down unexpectedly on his chest.

"Shit, woman!" he exclaimed. "What the hell?"

"Wake up!" she said and bounced up and down on his chest.

"I'm awake, I'm awake...what is wrong with you? What do you want?"

She smiled.

"Other than that."

"I can't sleep by myself anymore."

"Fine. Then lie down and keep on your side of the bed."

"Oh come on, Don. We both know that it is impossible for you to say no to me."

"I am saying no. Now get off of me."

"I don't think so." she said and kissed him, grabbing his hands as they settled on her hips and pining him by the wrists to the mattress above his head.

He kissed her back. He couldnt' help himself. No red blooded male could say no to her. Then he felt her bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. It was a complete turn on. "Fuck, Samantha! Why do you have to be so vicious?" he asked.

"You love it." she declared and kissed her way from his hips to his neck, her one hand pulling aside the neck of his t-shirt to kiss and suck the tender spot between his neck and his shoulder. It always drove him crazy.

"Do you mind?" he asked, yanking his head away from her when she bit him. "Stop it with your biting."

"Thought you liked the biting. That you said it always turned you on."

"It does. Believe me. It does."

"What about this?" she asked and licked the side of his neck and up to his ear.

"Shit...don't do that...you know that drives me nuts when you do that."

"Do what?" she asked innocently. "This?" she bit his earlobe lightly.

"That's good too. But I meant..." he felt her tongue graze his inner ear. "That! I meant that!"

Despite his earlier protests, he now had a raging hard on and couldn't stop himself from running his hands along her silky thighs and up and around to her ass and then up her back. She was driving him insane by kissing and licking his ear, sliding her body down his so that his erection, kept contained in his boxers, was pressed up against her bare crotch. He groaned loudly as she rubbed herself against him over and over again, bringing both of them closer and closer to orgasm.

"Baby..." he fought to compose himself. "Stop. You gotta stop. Okay? You don't stop and I'm gonna come like this and that seems like a waste to me."

"Well let's do something about that." she said, and reached around her body to re-direct his hands to her hips.

"I don't want to hurt you, Samantha."

"You won't. I'm fine. If I didn't think I was fine, I wouldn't be wanting to do this."

"The doctor said..."

"He never said we couldn't have sex. He said to be careful when we did. So as long as we're careful, and you're nice and gentle, it's all good. Think you can do that?" she ran her finger tip from the hallow of his throat to his navel, skimming just below the waist of his boxers. Smiling when she felt him shiver. "Or do I have to teach you how to be gentle, Flack?" she asked.

"You can teach me whatever you want, Ross." he replied.

She grinned. "I hate when you call me that."

"I know. It's why I do it." he ran his hands underneath her shirt and along her smooth sides and up to her breasts, looking into her eyes as his hands gently cupped them and he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. Desire sparked in her eyes and her breath hitched and her nipples hardened.

She yanked the shirt up and over her head and tossed it aside. Despite the numerous times they'd been intimate, every time he saw her body he was still in utter amazement. Her smooth, pale skin kissed by the moonlight, her full breasts and her curvy hips. And so much more. Every inch of her felt so good under his hands and tasted so good under his mouth. And now that little bump of hers. God, everything about her was like a drug.

"You are so beautiful." he said and she smiled and moved off of him long enough to pull of his boxer shorts. Kissing her way from his inner thighs and up onto his stomach, tracing over the scar with the tip of her tongue before moving up further. When she licked and nipped at one of his nipples, he almost came right then and there.

"On a hair trigger are we?" she asked playfully, using her tongue to trace a slow path from the hallow of his throat, up the underside of his chin to his lips. She kissed him deeply. "So? How are we going to do this?" she asked.

"Exactly the way we all ready are." he replied.

"Good answer." she said, and straddling him, took his cock in her hand and placed it against her opening. She lowered herself onto him inch by agonizing inch.

He groaned when he was finally all the way inside of her. He ran one hand continued to fondle her breast and play with the nipple as the other one gripping her hip. He noticed her slight grimace.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just a little sore. I'm okay."

"We don't have to..."

"Yes. We do. I want to. You want to."

"I do. It's just that..."

She silenced him with a kiss. Letting her lips graze a path from his mouth, down onto his neck, over his throat and then down to his navel before righting herself again. She moved slowly, patiently, her hands on his chest, looking deep into his eyes as she made love to him. His hand moved from her breast and down over her stomach, his fingertips finding her clit and massaging it lightly.

She groaned and closed her eyes. She moved faster, harder when the pain subsided and was replaced with pleasure. The fingers on her clit were working her into a frenzy, her breathing was becoming quicker, her movements harder and erratic. He rubbed more firmly at her clit and ran the fingers of his other hand down the cleft of her ass and brought his head up to suck and lick at one of her nipples. She came powerfully. Throwing her head back and screaming his name. The clenching and tightening of her inner muscles bringing him to climax almost immediately after her. Moaning loudly, his name on her lips.

She collapsed onto his sweat slicked chest. Listening to his heart pounding in unison with her own. His hand lightly trailing up and down her back.

"You are so fucking amazing." he panted.

She smiled and sighed in contentment. "I am so tired now." she said.

"Me too. I took two of those percs and with all the beer I had, you're lucky I could even do anything. I feel like a zombie."

"You took some pills? I should be giving you shit for drinking with them."

"I took two." he told her.

"For me?"

"Well, actually, I took them to calm myself down while I was talking to your dad." he admitted.

She frowned. "Next time you'll take them for me?"

"Who says there'll be a next time?" he asked.

She yanked some of his chest hair.

"Oww! Sorry! Sorry! Yes, next time, I will do it for you. I promise."

"Good." she said and kissed him. Then climbed off of him and and lay down on her back.

Flack reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand and grabbed a handful. Using them to clean between her legs gently before cleaning himself. Tossing them into the trash can beside the bed, he settled down beside her, lying on his side, his hand on her stomach, rubbing it in soft circles.

"I love you." he said, nose and lips against her cheek.

"I love you too."

"Both of you." he said and patted her tummy. "Somewhere in there."

"I think he's more right here." she said and moved his hand down and to the left. "He was on the left during the ultrasound tonight."

"He?" Flack asked with a boyish grin.

"Mother's intuition."

"A boy, huh?" he nuzzled her cheek. "I'd really like that. My first born being a boy."

She smiled and entwined her fingers with his as his hand lay on her stomach. "Me too." she said. "Although I kind of feel bad for the kid."

"Why's that?"

"I did the math. According to the due date the doctor gave me, the poor kid was conceived in the back of your SUV."

"There's no way of accurately pin pointing that when we made love three times that day." he told her.

"Knowing our luck, that will be the time."

"Better than in the bathroom of a bar."

She giggled. "True. Much better than that."

"You know what I just realized?" he asked.

"What? And since when are you so cuddly and into pillow talk?"

"You're changing me. I just realized that we're complete nymphos."

She giggled even louder. "You just realized that? I realized that the first night we were together. What was it? Five times?"

"Six if we count the time we fell off the bed and you smacked your head off the floor." he chuckled.

"That was so your fault." she laughed.

"I'm just glad I didn't have to take you to the hospital for stitches."

"That would have been tragic." she said.

"Yes...it would have." he kissed her cheek. "I love you so much, Samantha. Thank yo."

"For what?"

"Choosing me. For loving me back. And for giving me this." he patted her tummy again.

She smiled and turned her head into his and kissed his forehead. "I do love you." she said. "You'll never know how much. Think we'll still be like this when we're eighty?"

"Hell no. We'll be like this when we're a hundred."

"You'll be bored of me long before then." she told him.

"Never." he promised.

She yawned noisily and rolled onto her side and snuggled into him, her back against his chest.

"I love you both." he said, kissing her shoulder and rubbing her tummy. "I just hope I never let you guys down."

"Not a chance." she assured him.

He kissed the back of her head and pulled her as tight into him as he could. Closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair.

Before long they were fast asleep. Peacefully. Contently.

Tomorrow was another day.

**Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing! Please keep it up! I appreciate the support! Today I am plugging: Devine Intervention by Aphina (where my girl Sam is guest starring) and also Aphina's Finding Kate over in CSI:Miami land. And Magnet for Trouble by laplandgurl.**

**Show some love and vote for me in the awards!!**


	52. This name is the cross that I bear

**This name is the cross that I bear**

"I am the son and the heir  
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar  
I am the son and heir  
Of nothing in particular  
You shut your mouth  
How can you say  
I go about things the wrong way?  
I am human and I need to be loved  
Just like everybody else does."  
-How soon is now, The Smiths

**Thanks to Mauveine for once again finding an amazing song!**

* * *

He pulled up in front of that modest, well maintained grey brick home in Queens and killed the ignition. Sat behind the wheel and looked out the window and at the house he'd grown up in. It hadn't changed much in the twelve years since he'd moved out. In fact, it hadn't really changed at all since he was a child. Except for maybe the new windows and roof and the fresh coat of paint that had been added over the years. His mother still worked her ass of to keep the place respectable inside and out. His father did little more than cut the grass and take out the trash. If that. Usually some neighbourhood kid came over and helped out for a few extra bucks. No matter how hard his mother tried to keep the place looking nice day in and day out, year after year, the fact remained there was nothing she could to to make up for the disaster of a life she'd been living for thirty years. A clean house was one thing. A messy conscience and a tattered heart was another.

It was always his mother that kept things together. Not just the house. With her loveless, painful excuse of a marriage and the two sons she still remained devoted to despite the fact they may have been living across the globe they spent so little time or effort to see one another. She'd always been completely devoted to her two boys. From the time they were babies in diapers to teenagers getting their drivers licenses and graduating from high school, mom was a constant presence. She was the mother and the father nearly ninety eight percent of the time. She took them on school trips and out on the weekends when they were too young to be hanging out with friends. She got them to soccer and football matches, baseball at the park and basketball at the Y. Seven a.m. hockey practices in the dead of winter. It was always her. She stretched herself as much as humanely possible, trying desperately to make up for the lack of a father in their lives.

A piss poor father at that. He was only around long enough to come home from a day out drinking and beat the crap out of his wife and kids. He had a penchant for taking off for days at a time, not even telling his family where he was going. Those were the best days of Flack Jr's childhood. When his old man was gone. He was relaxed and at ease and could concentrate at school. And the three of them -himself, his mother and younger brother Chris- laughed easier and had fun together and sleep better at night. Flack would pray everytime that his father took off that he would never come back. That they'd never hear from him again. But the old man always came straggling home in a worse mood than when he left and the beats would start all over again. It was amazing they even had a place to live in all those years to call their own. Considering the old man had a habit of spending all his pay on booze and his other woman and the kids he'd fathered with her and his gambling before he put food on the table or paid the bills.

And then there were the times the bookies came around looking for their money his dad had blown gambling. Big burly guys that didn't care if it was just a woman and two kids home and terrorizing them and instilling the fear of God into them. And the lack of concern or compassion his old man had shown after each middle of the night visit, while he was off at work or with his mistress or drowning himself in booze somewhere, was what had bothered Flack the most. His father simply hadn't cared. He acted like something like that was the most natural thing in the world and that his wife and his kids were overreacting. Only thing his old man cared about was the job. How many arrests he could get under his belt or heads he could bust and how quickly he could climb the ranks no matter whose toes he stepped on.

The man was a legend. No doubt about it. He had a lot of brilliant and hardcore, dangerous busts under his belt. He'd shattered records on his number of arrests and how quickly he made lieutenant. But while he was the department's golden boy, all his buddies looked the other way and kept silent on what Donald Flack Sr was like once that badge and gun came off. They ignored the bruises and fat lips and black eyes they say on his wife and kids and the rumors of his drinking and gambling issues and the complaints his mother had filed over years about the abuse. The department protected their own and there was no way they were going to let anything tarnish the reputation of Flack Sr. So it all got swept under the carpet and the family continued to live in their own personal hell.

It had been expected of Flack to follow in his father's footsteps. It was drilled into him every day from the time he was old enough to remember. He wasn't named Jr for nothing. Anything less than a career in the NYPD would not be accepted. Hell, he probably would have been disowned had he not become a cop. It was his destiny as far as every one was concerned. Once he got that name planted on him his fate was sealed. And no matter what he did or how much he protested and tried so hard to escape it, that name hounded him every day of his life for the last thirty years. He lived under a dark cloud of expectation. He was expected to either surpass his father or fail miserably while trying. Nothing in between allowed. And that cloud was getting increasingly harder and harder to deal with. Because no matter how big the best or how clean the arrest or the fact that he made detective in record time, nothing was ever good enough. Not for brass, not for his colleagues. Not for his old man. Not even for himself.

It was getting damn tiring just trying to keep up and managing to hold his head above the water. Outside appearances sake, Flack was outgoing and confident, sometimes bordering on cocky and arrogant. Inside he was wounded and sullen and just plain tired. A little boy struggling to make his father proud and failing miserably at it. He knew it shouldn't bother him at his age. That he should be able to just shrug it off and let it fall off his shoulders no problem. Truth of it was, it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Tears stung his eyes. He felt ashamed and weak for letting himself get like that. He never got like that. Especially over his father. But the argument with Clint the night before and hearing the things that he had said about Sam and about their unborn child had frayed his last nerve. Maybe coming to terms with the realization he was going to be a father, that there was a whole new life that would be totally dependant on him, was starting to sink in and his emotions were beginning to feel the after effect. Or maybe because he was scared shitless of being a father because he didn't have one to model himself after. And he was worried that he would be an absolute failure and he'd let Sam and their baby down in the end. That he would be just like his old man. And he couldn't live with himself if that ever happened.

His cell phone, resting on the passenger's seat rang noisily, startling him out of the daze he'd put himself in and he reached for it with one hand and rubbed at his blurry, burning eyes with the other.

He pressed talk without checking the call display, cleared his throat noisily. "Yeah...this is Flack." he answered.

"Hey." that cheerful, childlike voice greeted. "I just thought I'd call and see where you are 'cause I woke up and you'd all ready left."

"I just got here. Like five minutes ago."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Sam asked. "Say goodbye?"

"I just figured you'd know where I was. You knew I was coming here. And you said you weren't feeling good this afternoon so I thought I'd just let you sleep. How are you feeling now?"

"I still have a killer headache but I called the pharmacy down the street and they said to go ahead to take a tylenol. That one or two was okay every now and then."

"Even with all your medication?" Flack didn't know if he liked that idea.

"That's what they said. You can phone them and ask yourself if you want."

"I believe you. I trust you. Just...just be careful. That's all I ask."

"It's just a Tylenol."

"I know. But you never know what's okay to take and what's gonna cause massive problems."

"True." she agreed. "If it would make you feel better, I won't take it. I'll just suffer."

"Don't to that." he said.

"What? Do what?"

"Make me sound like the bad guy."

"That's not what I was doing." she protested "I just know that you worry about me and that if it makes you feel better I won't take anything."

He sighed. "Look, I don't want you suffering or anything. If it's that bad, take the Tylenol."

"I'll be fine."

"Samantha..."

"Maybe if I take a bath or lie in the dark with a face cloth on my head it'll feel better." she suggested.

"Samantha..."

"Or have some of that crappy tea Carmen bought me. It's gross, but..."

"Samantha!" he snapped. Then quieted his voice. "Take the Tylenol. If the pharmacist said it's okay, then take it. Okay? Take it."

"Okay..." she warily. "I just wanted to call and say hi and make sure you're okay. I know how stressed you were over going there and I just wanted to check on you. I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time."

"What? No. You didn't..."

"I might not be here when you get home."

"What? Where are you going to be?"

"I was thinking about going to stay at my brother's over night."

"Why? Because I snapped at you 'cause I'm freaked out a bit? I didn't mean anything by it." Damn pregnancy hormones, he thought. Always seemed no matter what he said, she found a way to be hurt by it.

"Just you might not be in the mood to have company around and..."

"You are not company. You are going to be my wife. You're having my kid. And I didn't mean to snap at you. I don't want you going to Adam's. I want you there with me. I want you to be there when I get back. Just..." he sighed heavily. "Please. Don't go. Please."

"Well could you do me a favor?"'

"Anything."

"Can you bring me home some oreo cookies and some chocolate milk?" she asked hopefully.

"I can do that. Make sure you eat something. I made you some pasta with sauce. Its in the fridge."

"Well aren't you just domesticated." she giggled.

He smiled. "I love you." he said.

"I love you, too. You're going to be fine, Donnie. I'm sorry I'm not there."

"It was my idea, remember? You don't need the stress. And believe me, this is going to be stressful."

"I'm sorry." she said again.

"Don't be. No reason to be. I should go. Before my mom starts freaking out that I'm not coming. I shouldn't be too late."

"Okay...if you need to, just call me. Okay?"

"Okay" he agreed. "I'll see you soon."

"Yep. Bye."

"Bye." he said and hung up. Sighing heavily and looked back at the house.

It was now or never.

* * *

Donald Flack Sr was the same height as his son but at least thirty to forty pounds lighter. In his hay day with the NYPD he'd been built like a tank and had been a force to be reckoned with. The years hadn't been kind to him. He'd lost all that muscle and power and his once vibrant blue eyes were dull and lifeless. Hard living and bad choices would do that to you. The only thing that hadn't changed was that he was still as miserable and condescending as ever. Maybe even worse. Which is why, when Flack let himself into his parents place through the unlocked screen door and found his father sitting on the bottom step of the stairs in the front hall, reading the paper and nursing a scotch on the rocks, he wasn't surprised that the first words from the old man were not cheerful ones.

"How come you're alone?" Sr. asked, barely glancing up from his paper. "What? She dump you all ready? Can't say I'm surprised. You never could keep a relationship."

Flack decided his best course of action was to ignore that. "Good to see you, too, dad." he said. "Where's mom?"

"How come your alone?"

"She's not feeling well."

"Problems still from that attack she suffered when you screwed up that crime scene on the upper west side?"

The old man had spies far and wide in the NYPD. He found out things before Flack ever got the chance to tell him. Not that he made it a regular thing to talk to his father. About anything. The last time he'd seen his dad was the last time he'd been at the house. Close to ten months ago when he'd stopped by to see his niece and nephew on Boxing Day. The last time they'd spoken was months ago when Flack made the papers for chasing the spies in a yellow cab. Needless to say, his father was not impressed.

"She's all recuperated from that." Flack said. "Where's mom?"

"Kitchen." Sr folded the paper and sipped his drink. "She'll be upset you didn't bring the girl."

"She'll understand.Thought Chris was suppose to be here."

His younger brother Chris was three years his junior and also worked for the city in sanitation. He was married to his high school sweetheart, Allison, and had two kids, Nick, 6 and Lucie, 4.

"Couldn't make it. Nick's got the measles. Wanna drink?"

"I'm fine. Thanks though."

He wanted one badly, but he'd promised Sam he'd cut down. She had commented on the number of open bottles of booze in the cupboard and the empties waiting to be taken back to the beer store and it made him realize he was on the borderline of a nasty drinking problem. It had gotten less and less when Sam had come along. The loneliness and despair had abated and it gave him less excuse to want to drink. But the job...the job made him want to tie one on every night sometimes.

Sr was eyeing his son from head to toe, the glass of scotch just touching his lips. "You're gettin' damn big, Donnie." he commented, sipping his drink. "What ya now? Two hundred?"

"Two fifteen. Pushing two twenty."

"What ya doin' to get so big? Steroids?"

He snorted. "Yep. You figured it out dad. I'm doing drugs."

Sr frowned at the sarcasm that dripped from his son's lips.

"I'm eating right and working out." Flack told him. "Playin' basketball and hockey. I'm in better shape now than when I graduated from the academy."

"Still playin' hockey, huh? Now there's something you coulda been damn good at. All that talent and skill you had. Scouts from the big universities looking at you, offering ya scholarships. And you go and piss your life away by joining the department."

"Thought being a cop was the better choice for me." Flack told him. In reality, the real reason was that he didn't have the grades or the incentive to go through four or five more years of schooling.

Sr snorted and downed the rest of his scotch. "Ya coulda been something, Donnie. Made a real name for yourself. You were damn good. Phenomenal even. The size and the skill." he shook his head. "Coulda been in the NHL raking in millions a year instead of what, a lousy eighty five a grand a year?"

"A hundren and ten, plus over time and then taxes taken off." Flack informed him.

"Not bad." Sr said with a nod. "For a guy with just a grade twelve. Guess you ain't looking a gift horse in the mouth, huh?"

"It pays the bills." Flack said simply.

"What's that girl of yours make in the crime lab?"

"Somewhere around seventy five thousand. She's been a second grade for a while so she's probably closer to eighty, eighty two. Plus overtime."

"You mean you don't know? You've never asked?"

"No. 'Cause I don't care. Doesn't matter to me what she makes. What she does with her money is her business."

Sr chuckled lightly. "You are a goddamn fool, son. If I was you, I'd be setting down some ground rules with the girl. Or she'll be keeping all hers and sucking you dry. Trust me."

"Well you're not me, dad. And I'm not you."

"No." Sr said. "You're not."

Thank God, Flack thought, though the way his father was looking at him with that look of sheer disappointment in his eyes told him his father and him were on different sides of the coin with who had let who down in the span of thirty years.

* * *

There was a period of uncomfortable silence between father and son. If there wasn't work to be talked about, then they didn't speak at all. All Sr cared about even now was the job, and Flack could just tell the old man was itching to get on him about something. Thankfully, his mother can swooping down the hall in time to save the day.

Patricia Flack was tall and slender. She'd come from a large Italian family and never stopped going to church every Sunday. At fifty-five she still had her girlish figure and her shoulder length shimmering dark hair. Her face wasn't marred by wrinkles or lines and she resembled a woman years younger. Which surprised Flack considering the hell she'd been put through over the last thirty years. Thirty five if you counted the high school sweetheart years. He wondered why in the hell she'd put up with that crap for so long. An attractive woman like his mom could find a nice guy who would treat her well. Not the pitiful excuse for a man she called her husband.

"Hi, sweetie!" she greeted her oldest (and favorite) son with a tight hug and a kiss on both cheeks. "It's been too long."

"It has." Flack agreed. He wouldn't have minded seeing his mother more, but she rarely managed to make it out of the house without the old man tagging along. And the old man was the reason Flack didn't visit as often as he probably should have. And his mother knew it, too.

"How have you been?" she asked, holding her son out at arm's length. "You look good. Well rested. You've been taking good care of yourself?"

"For the most part." Flack replied.

"You didn't bring your new girlfriend? I was so looking forward to meeting her."

"She probably got tired of him and dumped him." Sr commented.

Both Flack and his mother ignored him.

"She hasn't been feeling very well lately." Flack said. "She needed to stay in and get some rest. Which leads me to the reason why we were coming here in the first place. Other than so you could meet her."

"Well come into the kitchen and we'll eat and you can tell us all about it. I made lasagna. I'll have to pack some up for you to take home. Your girlfriend like lasagna? What's her name again, sweetie? Susan, Stephanie..."

"Samantha." he said.

"Samantha. I've always liked that name. So cute. Reminds me of that show Bewitched. You can take some food home for her. She likes Italian food."

"At this point in time, mom, she'd eat just about anything." Flack said.

Patricia arched an eyebrow. "Something tells me you've got a really big secret inside of you, Donnie."

"Tell you what, mom. Feed me and I'll tell you."

She smiled and linked her arm through his. "Sounds like a plan." she said.

* * *

His mother had always been an amazing cook. From the time he was a kid, he could remember the magic she could whip up in the kitchen. And it hadn't changed. Her lasagna was pure heaven and as usual, she'd made enough to feed a small army. All through dinner he was bombarded with questions about work and how Mac was running things over at the lab, hiring all these women. Sr was old school. He didn't think a woman had a place in the NYPD unless it was fetching coffee or typing up reports and answering phones. He cringed at the thought of a woman out in the field and steadfastly believe there was no woman on earth that could do the job the same way a man could. Flack begged to differ. Sam, Carmen and Stella were more than capable of holding their own and often did the job better than most men.

Now, as they sat at the table with the dishes cleared away, sipping white wine and relaxing and the old man had given up his tirade against Mac's hiring practices and the weaker sex bringing shame to the force, Flack decided it was now or never to bring up why he was there in the first place.

"I have something to tell you guys." he said.

"You're gay." Sr piped up. "That's what it is right? You're coming here to tell us there is no girlfriend. You're actually gay. You and that Messer kid are fags aren't ya."

"Donald!" Patricia gasped.

"What?" Flack couldn't believe his ears. "No. We're not. He's my friend and a colleague. That's it. Jesus, dad. Are you kidding me?"

"Just a wild guess. I was wondering seeing as your thirty and you've never had a real steady relationship let alone come close to gettin' married or havin' kids."

"Well that's what I have to tell you guys." Flack sipped his wine. Liquid courage. "You see, I'm kinda...well..."

"Spit it out, boy." Sr snapped.

"Leave him alone, Donald. Can't you see he's nervous!" Patricia turned to her son and smiled gently and reached out and laid her hand over his. "Go ahead, sweetie. I'm all ears. At least tell me this is good news."

"It is. At least we think it is."

"We?"

"Samantha and I."

"Are you trying to say that..."

"Samantha's pregnant." he spit out.

Silence around the table. Hours seemed to tick by before there was any reaction from either of his parents. It was less than a minute but felt like a lifetime.

"Come again." Sr said.

"Are you serious?" Patricia asked, tears welling in her eyes and a hand over her heart. "You're not joking around with me are you, Donnie?"

"No, mom. I'm not. Samantha's pregnant. Three and a half months actually. We just found out in the middle of the week."

"Oh, sweetie." she gushed and jumped up from her chair and rushed over to embrace him. "That's wonderful news. I'm so happy for the two of you. You must be so excited."

"I am. We are."

"When is she due?"

"Late February, early March."

"That's wonderful. I am so happy for you, Donnie." she kissed both his cheeks and held his face in her hands. "My first born is going to be a father. Congratulations. This is amazing news. How as she been feeling?"

"Awful, actually. She's been really sick. We were actually at the hospital last night. She had some cramping and some bleeding so I took her to get checked."

"But everything is okay?" Patricia returned to her seat.

"She's fine. The baby's fine. They're both fine."

"Thank God. Its always scary when things like that happen. I guess it's too early for them to tell what it is."

"They said at her twenty week scan we could find out. We're debating whether we want to."

"This is so exciting. You're going to have to bring this girl over here if she's having my grandchild."

"I will. When she's feeling a bit better I will. I promise. Or you would always just show up at the lab or ask her to go out to lunch with you or something. She'd like that."

"I'll have to do that. I really am happy for you, sweetie. Are you happy? With this news? With her? When you talk about her your face just lights up. You seem happy."

"I am." Flack said with a broad smile. "For once I actually am."

"So you're telling me that you went and knocked up some broad you barely know?" Sr asked, his eyes blazing. "What? Following in Gavin Moran's footsteps are ya? Didn't he do the same thing? Get some random girl pregnant?"

"Dad, what Gavin did is his business." Flack said, feeling his temper building. "And this is different. Samantha and I are in a committed relationship. We're moving in together. Actually, we're getting married."

"Jesus H Christ." Sr muttered.

Patricia nearly dropped her wine glass. "A grand baby and a daughter in law all at once?"

Flack nodded. "We're getting married Christmas Eve. Just a small thing. A JP is going to do it for us."

"Whatever you want, sweetie." Patricia said, dabbing at her tears with a napkin. "Whatever way you want to do it I will support you You know that."

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Sr asked, vehemence and scorn in his voice. "You're tossing away your life! You're career! Knocking up some girl you just meet! Marrying her 'cause you did knock her up!"

"That's not why we're getting married. We're getting married because we love each other and we want to be together."

"Right at the prime of your career! Just when you're starting to make a name for yourself! You go and do this!"

"Dad," Flack fought to control himself. "I'll still have my career."

"Only gonna bring you down, son. A wife and a kid. Don't do what I did. Marry some broad cause you knocked her up. That's what went down with me and your mother. She ended up getting pregnant with you and that was the end of my life as I knew it."

"Why don't you just tell me how you really feel dad. Tell me. Here I am. Sitting right in front of you. Tell me how I've been a constant disappointment and an embarrassment. Tell me. Get it all out on the table."

"Donnie..." Patricia laid a hand on his arm to calm him.

"It's okay, mom. If he's a man, he'd tell me."

"Don't do it, son." Sr said. "Don't ruin your career. If she's only three months, she can still get rid of it."

"What the fuck did you just say!" Flack snapped. He was out of his chair and would have killed his own father if his mother hadn't gotten in the way. "You did not just say we should get rid of it!"

"Abortion is a cheaper alternative than paying out your ass for the rest of your life." Sr reasoned, on his feet as well.

"There is no way in hell that we are getting rid of this baby! You got that dad! My career! You're worried about my career! Bullshit! You're worried that me getting her pregnant before we're married will embarrass you within the department! Well you know what! Fuck the department! And fuck you!"

"Get outta my house!" Sr bellowed. "Come in here and disrespect me!"

"Disrespect you! You've disrespected mom and me and Chris for thirty fucking years! You're disrespecting me right now! Me and my wife and my kid! You think that makes you a man! Makes you the miserable fucking bastard you are!"

"Get the fuck out of my house you ungrateful little fucker!" Sr yelled. "Everything I've done for you! I gave you my name! Made you who you are!"

"No, dad. I made myself who I am. And you may not think that that's much, but I can sleep well at night knowing I'm at least a half decent human being. You...I don't even know what you are."

"Donnie, please. Calm down." Patricia begged.

"Get out of my house." Sr fumed.

"Fine. You want me gone, dad? That's fine. Don't think you're ever gonna come anywhere near your grand kid."

"I won't want to with you as the father. Now get out and never come back. I wish that that day almost two years ago..."

"What dad? You wish I died? Say it. Its what you wanted. You wanted me to die that day, didn't you. Well, guess what. I didn't."

"Your dead to me now." Sr said.

Flack just nodded. Turned to his mother. There were tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, mom." he said gently and brushed her tears away and hugged her. "I'm really sorry. If you want to see your grand kid, you're gonna have to do it without him."

"Just call me. Please, Donnie. So I know how she's doing and when she has the baby. Promise me you'll do that."

"I will. I really am sorry mom."

She touched his face softly. "I love you." she said.

"I love you, too, mom. You need anything, just call me okay?"

She nodded. "Take care of her and the baby." she called to him as he left the room.

"I will." he paused in the doorway. "Goodbye, dad. Hope this was worth it."

"Just get out of my house." Sr said. "And out of my life."

Nothing more needed to be said.

* * *

When he got home an hour later, a bag containing oreo cookies and a litre of chocolate milk in his hand, all the lights were off save for the small florescent light in the kitchen above the sink. He could hear music playing down the hall in the bedroom, and after putting the the cookies and the milk away, he turned off his cell phone and tossed it on top of the fridge and locked every thing and headed down the hall.

Sam was already in bed, lying on her side, reading What to Expect When You're Expecting by the light of the bedside lamp while listening to the radio.

"Hey," she said, flipping her book closed when she saw him in the doorway. "You're home early. I wasn't expecting you until later."

"I needed to come home." Flack said, and went to the bed and bent down to kiss her softly.

"I don't like the way you said that. How'd it do?"

"Don't ask." he said with a sigh and went around to the opposite side of the bed and climbed in beside her, clothes and all. Cuddling close to her, her back against his chest, her ass in his pelvis. He kissed the back of her head.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked.

"No. I don't." he replied and put his arm around her.

She took his hand and guided it to her stomach. "Baby wants to say hi to daddy." she said playfully.

He smiled. And felt hot tears trickle down his face.

She felt the tears on her shoulder. "Don, what's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just...just let me have my little breakdown and I'll be fine."

"Okay." she said skeptically and held his hand tightly on her stomach as he cried into her hair.

She wasn't sure how long they lay there for, not saying a word, but eventually he stopped crying and wiped his eyes with the back of his other hand and moved as close to her as possible.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"I am now. Just let me hold you and the baby. Show me the part we're at now. What does it say?"

She reluctantly flipped the book back open. "Well, by the third month it says that the baby weighs one ounces, can swallow, squint, swim, move its tongue, suck its thumb and it begins to urinate. It has salivary glands and taste buds and the depending on sex, develops primitive sperm or eggs."

"What about the fourth month?" he asked. "We're almost there."

She flipped the pages. "By the fourth month, hair has begun to grow on the head, the baby is eight to ten inches long and weighs half a pound or more."

"Kid's gonna have tons of dark hair when he's born. A whole head full."

"And blue eyes." Sam said with a smile and closing the book, sat it on the night stand. She turned out the light and rolled onto her other side, so they were face to face, their noses touching, arms around each other.

"Tell me you love me." he whispered.

"I love you." she said and kissed him softly.

"Tell me I'm a good man and I'll be a good husband and a good father."

She snuggled even closer to him. "You're an amazing man and you'll be a great husband and a fantastic father." she told him.

He smiled and kissed her softly.

"And I'll never loose faith in you." she added.

"Promise me you'll never leave me, Samantha."

"I promise." she said.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and held her close.

And prayed to God she could keep that promise.

**Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing. Good news! My lap top arrived today!! Now all I have to do is get it up and running!!**

**Today I am plugging:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**laplandgurl: Magnet for Trouble**

**Madison Bellows: Positive**

**A/N: I know the amount of money Flack and Sam make seem outrageous, but it is true! Check the NYPD website for pay rates and you'll see it. Big thanks to Mauveine for doing the research for me!**


	53. Left Behind

**Left behind**

"Here I am, lost in the ashes of time, but who wants tomorrow?  
In between the longing to hold you again  
I'm caught in your shadow, I'm losing control  
My mind drifts away, we only have today  
Touch me and I will follow in your afterglow  
Heal me from all this sorrow  
As I let you go, I will find my way  
I will sacrifice 'til the blinding day when I see your eyes  
Now I'm living in your afterglow."  
-Afterglow, INXS

**A/N: Thanks again to my girl Mauveine for this fantastic song!!**

He was a good man his son. Strong and loyal and dependable. Always there with a sympathetic ear or a way to get you out of jam or even to lend you some money. Four kids and mortgage payments and car insurance and staggering bills aside, he was the one you could go to if you were strapped until pay day. He never asked what you needed it for or had to remind you to pay him back. He was the kind of guy you wouldn't think about screwing over like that because he had so much faith in you. He was a hell of a husband and an amazing father. And an incredible cop. Not that the latter mattered much in the grand scheme of things. When his time came, God wasn't going to judge Donald Flack Jr by how many busts he'd made in his career, how fast he'd made detective or the long standing record he'd shattered by being promoted to Lieutenant at the ripe young age of thirty-eight. Arrest records didn't make a damn bit of difference. What mattered was how he lived his life and treated the people in it.

He watched his first born now. Struggling with his immense grief and sorrow while taking loving and attentive care of his four children. And Flack Sr was overcome with an immense feeling of pride for this young man that he barely knew. And regretted not getting to know better. Or his daughter in law. That initial announcement of a baby and a marriage had been complete bombshell. His reaction had been mean and spiteful ten years ago. He'd said things he'd regretted almost instantly but never had the pride of the courage to take them back. Accusing his son of only wanting to marry a girl because he'd knocked her up, telling him he was throwing his career down the drain and that the baby could always be aborted to save said career.

He'd been a monster that day. All his son's life, for that matter. He'd thrown away a chance of having a good relationship with his first born and his precious grandchildren. After that night, Donnie never came around again. He would call on Christmas Day or each time he found out he was going to be a father and when the babies were born. Each time he'd speak to his mother and Sr would refuse to even acknowledge him, let alone speak to him. He kept track of his son's career through Gerrard and Sully the duty captain at the twelve. Every great bust or fuck up his kid had. When that sonofabitch Truby first got out of jail, looking for revenge and raped and beat his daughter in law and left her like a piece of trash in an alleyway in Queens, it had been Mac Taylor that had called with that news. Saying that maybe now was a good time to try and patch things up with his son. That his son needed him to help him through this.

Flack Sr had simply hung up the phone, cutting Taylor off mid sentence and never stepped foot in that hospital.

And now his daughter in law was gone. He'd never gotten the chance to thank her. For blessing him with those grand kids.

And for making his son a better man.

* * *

On the job, Flack was not know for his patience. He had always been a hot head with a hair trigger temper and a dry, sarcastic wit that either had you in stitches or cringing. He had zero tolerance for bullshit no matter who handed it to him. Which was why, when Danny Messer sat back and watched his best friend take off that badge and gun and become a father, he was filled with the utmost amazement at Flack's skills as a dad. He'd never imagined Flack being able to handle one kid let alone four. Yet he was a hands on, loving, attentive father with the patience of a saint. He was the guy with the framed pictures and hastily, yet lovingly scrawled crayon pictures proudly displayed on his desk.

The guy who'd risk the wrath of brass by taking an extra long dinner break so he drive out to wherever his kids happened to have a soccer or baseball games. Made sure he had Saturday mornings free to watch them play hockey in the winter. He was the dad who got up at all hours to do diaper changes and feedings when they were just babies, regardless if he'd just gotten off a double or a triple and was practically sleeping on his feet. The guy who had managed to get to all of his children's births, although two of them just barely and always made sure he got Christmas Day off if it meant working every Sunday for two months. The guy was incredibly proud of his family and would stop at nothing to protect them.

Which was why Flack had made the decision that he had. Unbeknownest to Danny, he had decided to take his own ife. To spare his children of the inadequancy of his parenting skills and putting them in the hands of people who could properly care for them. Samantha's death had destroyed him. Everyone saw it and commented quietly on it. He was a shell of the man he had been only a month ago, sitting in that very backyard at nine thirty at night, wrapped in a flannel blanket with the love of his life, lying on the grass and staring up at the stars. It had been Sam's idea. She thought it would be romantic and he'd gone along with it. Anything to make her happy.

They had talked about how the last ten years had seemed to fly by. Of all the fun times and loving time they had shared. All the hard times they never thought they'd get through but had somehow managed to survive. They had talked about everything they had achieved. A nice house, great, successful careers, four amazing children. And then she'd reached under that blanket and pulled out a pregnancy test she'd hidden in her jeans pocket and had handed it to him with a bright smile on her face and a guess what?

Three days before she died, the doctor had confirmed the pregnancy. She was two and a half months. Their fifth child would also be their last. They had reached their limit and she had decided to get her tubes tied a couple months following giving birth. They hadn't even told anyone. Sam had wanted to wait until she got past that crucial first trimester. The minute her autopsy results were released to the crime lab and the investigating detective, the news was out. Word had spread through the lab like wildfire. Everyone knew within an hour of those results that she had been pregnant. Rage simmered towards the perpetrator. Not only had he taken a away someone they'd all loved and respected, but had destroyed an innocent, precious life that never stood a chance. The team had agreed to keep it quiet for the sake of the kids. Flack didn't want them knowing. Their mother's death was confusing enough.

She had looked at him at night with the moonlight sparkling in her eyes and that smile on her face. God how he missed that smile. He missed the touch of her kiss and the feel of her skin and the sound of her voice. He missed everything about her.

He'd see it all again very soon.

Right now, he was determined to make the last hours with his kids the best ones he could. He gathered them on blanket under the big oak tree in the back corner of the yard and got them something to eat and drink. He sat with them. His suit jacket and tie long gone and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons undone. He held his daughter in his lap, her back pressed against his chest as she drank a sippy cup of grape juice and started to doze off. He breathed in her soft baby scent and ran his fingers through her thick black curls. He listened to Mackenzie and Kieran bicker incessantly back and forth. They were always arguing about something. Mackenzie wanted to be just like his big brother and Kieran thought his little brother was the biggest brat on the face of the earth. Daniel ate quietly, making sure all his different foods were neatly arranged on his plate, nothing touching each other. Eating in a clockwise motion over and over again. Each forkful no bigger than the one before. If he felt there was more food than the previous helping, he'd dump it back on the plate and start all over again.

Daniel was taking his mother's death worse than the other two boys. Flack wasn't surprised. He was the extremely sensitive one. Just like his mother. Flack reached out, ran a hand over his son's hair.

Daniel looked at him with this doe brown eyes and smiled meekly.

"I love you, daddy." he said through his missing front teeth.

Flack's chest tightened and tears threatened. "I love you, too, buddy." he said. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

Daniel smiled and went back to his food. Eating once again in a circle. First one thing, then another, then another, over and over again in a cycle. All part of his OCD. Just like...

Flack sighed heavily and looked at his children. Finding some solace in the fact they'd much better off, very soon.

* * *

Carmen led the way through the crowded, noisy house, Lindsay in step beside her. She was surprised at how little the girl from Montana had changed. Except for her hair being a few inches longer, her face hadn't changed one bit.

"What are you doing here, Lindsay?" she asked.

"Angell and I have kept in touch since I left." she replied. When she called me and told me what had happened I knew I had to come. I would have been at the church but my flight got delayed."

"How'd you even know where Flack lived?" Carmen asked.

"I called his father's place. It's the only Flack that was listed in Queens. He told me the address."

"Why?"

"Why what? What do you mean why?"

"What are you even doing here? You've been gone for ten years and you just decide to show up out of the blue?"

"I was shocked when Angell told me about Sam. I couldn't believe it. I wanted to come and see Flack and give him my condolences."

"And you couldn't have done it through a card or over the phone? Not like you and Sam were the best of friends. I know the two of you were starting to get on track when you took off, but it seems out you'd come all this way."

"I just thought that paying my respects in person was the way to go." Lindsay reasoned. "And that it would be nice to see everyone."

Carmen stopped walking and affixed the country girl with a hard gaze. "There always was an ulterior motive to everything with you, Monroe." she said.

"It's Keswick now." Lindsay corrected. "I got married six years ago."

"I heard you were dating the governor but I never knew you'd married him."

"Actually, I married his son." Lindsay told her.

Carmen snorted. "Nothing like keeping it in the family, huh?"

"I didn't come here to fight with you, Carmen. I came here to see Flack and express my sympathy. And I have no ulterior motive so..."

"He's moved on with his life." Carmen interrupted her.

Lindsay frowned. "Who?"

"Danny. And don't try and tell me that you weren't getting yourself in a knot about seeing him again. You didn't think it would be nice to come back and see all of us. You thought it would be nice to come back and see Danny."

"That's not true." Lindsay defended herself. "I wasn't even thinking about Danny."

"Oh bullshit, Lindsay. You never were a good liar. Look, if you came here to cause problems for Danny and think he's going to fall back into your arms, the best thing for you to do is turn around and go back out the way you came in. This day is about Samantha and helping Flack and his kids cope. Not about you getting a piece of ass."

Lindsay's face hardened. "I can't believe you'd think that about me." she huffed.

"I've thought worse of you." Carmen said. "Believe me."

A few feet away the patio door opened and Erica stepped into the kitchen, Daniel and Mackenzie in tow, their faces and hands covered in sticky chocolate.

"Come on, guys." Erica said. "Let's get you two cleaned up before you get chocolate all over the place. How you two manage to get so messy is beyond me.'

"'Cause we're boys, Auntie Erica." Mackenzie reasoned. "That's why."

"Well you two need to be scotch guarded." she declared.

"Whoa..." Carmen said, taking in the sight. "What happened to you guys?"

"Run in with the ice cream." Erica explained. "Have you honestly ever seen two kids this dirty? Especially coming from parents who are obsessed with cleanliness"

"They're characters all right." Carmen said. "Guys, you go into the small bathroom and clean yourselves up. When you come back I'm going to check what a great job you guys did and maybe tomorrow we can talk daddy into taking all of us to Coney Island."

"Awesome!" Mackenzie exclaimed. "We haven't been there in forever! Come on, Daniel, let's go." he yanked his brother by the arm and two boys ran out of the kitchen and down the hall, nearly knocking people over and yelling and figthing with one another over who got to sit by the window in the car tomorrow.

Erica sighed and wiped sweat of her forehead with her arm. "Those two are handful." she declared. "Especially Mackenzie. He's enough to give me grey hair. And I thought my kids were fearless and energetic. But those two..." she shook her head "adorable as all hell but complete hellions."

"They're awful cute." Lindsay commented. "Whose are they?"

"Those are Sam and Flack's twins. Fraternal." Carmen told her. "Daniel and Mackenzie. Daniel has the brush cut."

"Sam and Flack's? Really?" Lindsay looked and sounded surprised. "They look nothing like either one of them. For a minute, I thought they belonged to Speed and somebody. Is it me or do they look just like Speed?"

"It's just you." Carmen and Erica answered in unison.

"Introductions." Carmen said. "This is Erica. Samantha and Adam's cousin. And Danny's wife."

Lindsay stared blankly at the pretty blond.

"Not legally." Erica laughed. "Ten years and two kids and I still can't get the ring. Always was a chicken shit when it came to making it official. Oh well. When you love someone as much as I love him, you just take things as they come. Are you a friend of Sam's?"

"An old colleague." Lindsay answered and offered her hand. "I'm Lindsay Keswick. I used to be..."

Erica blinked but shook the outstretched hand anyway. "I know who you used to be." she said. "Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to pay my respects to Flack. I feel terrible about Sam."

"I bet." Erica said. She'd heard the stories about Lindsay's rumor spreading. "I should get back outside. Trying to play happy hostess and all. Carmen, you're okay with the boys?"

"Of course. But..."

"Nice to meet you, Lindsay." Erica said politely and hurried back out into the back yard.

"She seems like a nice girl." Lindsay commented. "Are they happy?"

"Disgustingly." Carmen said. "So don't even think about..."

The twins came back down the hall and into the kitchen. Speed following behind. Seeing all three of them together nearly stopped Carmen's heart. The physical resemblance is so strong it was almost scary. And if she noticed it, so did everyone else who saw them together. The whispers that still lingered at work that those kids were not Flack's were definitely going to resurface.

"Auntie Carmen!" Mackenzie shrieked. "Look what Uncle Tim gave us!" he held aloft a twenty dollar bill.

Daniel waved his own in the air.

"Buying these kids off or something, Speedle?" Carmen asked.

"Just 'cause they've been holding it together pretty well. Doing so good cleaning themselves up. Now they can go and buy something they like."

"Uncle Tim made sure we were all clean!" Daniel informed her. "Even behind our ears and made sure we brushed our teeth."

"Why don't you guys go outside?" Carmen suggested. "Maybe Uncle Danny and Uncle Shelly will play soccer with you or something. It's too nice to be inside."

"You gonna come too, Uncle Tim?" Daniel asked hopefully.

"Sure. But I warn you, I am not much of a soccer player." Speed said.

"Me either." Daniel assured him and grabbed his hand and yanked him towards the sliding door.

Carmen excused herself briefly from Lindsay and followed Speed and the kids. Catching Speed's hand before he could get outside and telling the boys to go ahead, that Uncle Tim would catch up. She spoke in a low, discreet voice. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"They're my kids, Carmen."

"No. They're not. Maybe in blood, but not in name."

"I have a right to spend time with my sons. I haven't been able to do that in almost seven years."

"Don't do this, Tim. Please. Don't do this to those kids. To Flack. To yourself."

"I wanna spend some time with them, Carmen. As Uncle Tim. That's it. I deserve that."

"Promise me you won't..."

"I promise you. Now can I go?"

She nodded.

Speed reached out and touched her face softly. Fought back the urge to kiss her senseless right then and there.

"Come on Uncle Tim!" Mackenzie bellowed. "Hurry up!"

"Please." Carmen begged. "Don't do anything or say anything..."

"I won't." he assured her and turned to leave.

Flack was coming up the deck stairs, a sleeping Mikayla in his arms. The two men looked at each other but neither said a word. Flack watched Speed as he headed across the deck and down the stairs and then joined the boys. With heavy, pained sigh, he turned to head inside and found Carmen staring at him intently.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, Don. He figured it out. It's so obvious and..."

"I'm fine." he assured her. "Why wouldn't I be fine? I dealt with it all those years ago so why wouldn't I be fine now? I'm gonna go and put Mikayla in her crib and be alone for a while."

"Don...'

"I need to be alone, Carmen. Okay? I just need to be alone. Give me that, okay?"

She nodded. "There's someone here to see you, Don." she said.

"I just want to be alone, Carmen. Can you just tell them that..."

Lindsay approached cautiously. "Hi, Flack." she said simply.

He stared at her in disbelief. "Lindsay..."

She stood on her tip toes and hugged him, minding the baby in his arms. "I am so sorry, Flack. It was such a shock when Angell called and told me. I am really, really sorry."

He hugged her loosely with one arm. "Thank you...you came all this way for Sam?"

"I would have been at the church but my flight was delayed." Lindsay told him.

"All the way to New York for someone you hated?" Flack asked.

"I never hated Samantha." Lindsay replied. "We just didn't get along sometimes."

"Sometimes." Flack chuckled lightly. "You made her life hell when she first started at the lab."

"I know." Lindsay sighed regretfully. "And I'm not proud of that. Believe me."

Flack nodded. "Look, I need some time to myself. It's been a hell of a three weeks. Feel free to stick around and have something to eat or drink and mingle a bit. If you're still around when later, maybe we could talk."

Lindsay smiled. "I'd like that." she ran a hand over the baby's silky neary coal black hair. "She's beautiful? How old? What's her name?"

"Mikayla." Flack said. "She's two. Well, almost two."

"She's gorgeous, Flack. And your boys...they're adorable."

"They are. But they're handful. Trust me. Especially three of them."

"Three?" Lindsay asked.

"We had Kieran pretty quick into our relationship." Flack replied. "He's almost ten now. We'll talk later, okay? I just really need some time alone."

"I understand." Lindsay assured him. She watched him disappear from the kitchen and turned to Carmen. "Think he'll be okay?" she asked.

Carmen sighed. "God I hope so." she said.

* * *

He sat in the yellow and white striped rocking chair in the nursery. His eyes closed and his daughter cuddled tightly into his chest, his arms around her tightly and securely, almost as if he was afraid to let go of that one thing that reminded him so much of her mother. That if he put her down in that cherry wood crib on the left hand wall, if he released her, he'd also be releasing every memory he had stored away. That little girl with her soft skin and her tiny features and the freckles on her nose and electric smile, with her bubbly personality and heart warming giggle. She was the mini version of Sam, and the longer he held on to her, the longer he was able to to keep his wife close to him.

He tried to block out the voices coming from downstairs. Lost himself in the memories of standing in the doorway of that very room and the own in their old apartment in lower Manhattan, watching Sam as she sat in that very rocking chair, the sunlight streaming through the window and making her hair shimmer, in awe of the sheer beauty of her and the way she bonded with each baby she'd given birth to over the years and the way her face and eyes exhibited pure joy and unconditional love as she looked down at the baby in her arms, stroking their soft cheeks and smoothing their silky hair and talking to them in a quiet, calm voice that he'd never heard up until the day she became a mother.

She had suffered with horrible morning sickness and migraine headaches and in later months excessive heartburn and insomnia, and not one of the three births had been easy or had gone according to plan. But the moment that her children were placed in her arms, she was filled with nothing but love and acceptance for the life they had managed to create and bring successfully into the world. Each child was nothing short of a miracle. And despite her insistence at the time that she would never, ever, ever go through the pain of child birth again, it wasn't long before the discussion of having another baby came about. It was something they seemed to agree on rather quickly. She was an amazing mother and adjusted to her role as one quickly and efficiently. She was born to be a mother she was that good at it. And he thanked God that he had found someone like that, someone with that much love and pride and compassion.

But why had God decided to take her away from him when things were going so good? When they had so many plans and dreams for their future and their childrens futures? Why her?

He asked that question every day and was still waiting for an answer.

"Hiding out?" a voice asked from the doorway.

Flack opened his eyes and glanced over. "Hey, dad...I just needed some quiet time...my mind is racing and my brain feels like its going to explode."

"I can leave if..."

"No." Flack said quickly. "You can stay. I don't mind if you stay. I want you to stay."

Sr entered the spacious room with the large window and cushioned set below it. It was a little girl's room through and through. Light pink walls with white wainscoting and crown moulding, shelves upon shelves of stuffed animals and collectible dolls. A pink, yellow, blue and white weave area rug on the polished hardwood floor and white eyelet crib bedding.

There was a small stool in the corner that belonged to the rocker and he pulled it over and sank down on it in front of his son. Wathed as he rocked back and forth with his daughter cuddled close.

"She's a pretty little thing, Donnie." he said with praise in his voice and eyes. "They're all beautiful. And so damn smart."

"Like their mother." Flack said. "She is...she was incredibly smart. Daniel's amazingly intelligent but he has some issues."

"Your mother told me. About the OCD. How'd that come about?"

"Apparently, in his case, it was genetic. Passed down from his..." Flack sighed heavily before continuing. "From his real father."

"I was hoping that wasn't true." Sr said sadly. "That what your mother was saying and the the gossip from the department wasn't true."

"Well it is. Unfortunately. I'm not their real father." Fuck it hurt to admit it out loud like that.

"You are their father." Sr told him firmly. "Maybe not DNA wise, but love and care wise. That other fella, the one from Miami. He's their..."

"He's their father. He used to work here and then left and Sam and him met up and...it's a long story, dad and I'm not going to disrespect my wife by bringing it up. It happened and she got pregnant and I forgave her and accepted the twins. We never looked back on it."

"You're not angry?" Sr asked.

"I'm still a little pissed. I've been pissed for a long time. But I love my wife and my kids and there was no way I was walking out on them. And if that makes me a chump to some people, then that's what I am."

"You're a bigger man than I am, Donnie. But you always have been."

Flack didn't respond. He just kept rocking slowly and staring up at the ceiling, trying to formulate something to say in his weary brain.

"You're a damn good father, Donnie. Seeing you with your kids and how much you love them. I only wish I could have been like that for you and your brother."

"Don't even get me started on Chris, dad. Still going on his golfing trip this weekend even though his sister in law was being buried. He was worrying about loosing his deposit on the room. He's a fucking bastard and if I never see or talk to him again, it will be too soon. But I wish that, too, dad. Me and you."

"We could start now, Donnie. Rebuild things."

"It's kinda late, don't you think? I mean, my kids don't even know you as their grandfather. Sam's dad was grampa and Mac Taylor is their papa as far as they're concerned. You're a stranger to them. Doesn't that bother you? They're your grand kids and you never gave them a chance. You never called or came around. Even when Mikayla was so sick in the NICU and we didn't think she'd make it. You treated my wife like crap and never got the chance to get to know her. And now it's too late 'cause she's never coming back."

Flack closed his eyes once again, fighting back the threat of tears.

"I am so sorry, Donnie. But the job...it hardens you. Somehow you're not like me."

"No. I'm not. But I could have been and my wife wouldn't let that happen. You don't even know me, dad."

"I know. And I'm not proud of that son. Believe me. I'm sorry. I wasn't a good father to you. I did horrible things to you and your brother and your mother. But I am reaching out to you now, Donnie. Give me the chance to get to know you. Because I'd really like that son. To get to know you."

Flack sniffled noisily and opened his eyes. "I'm forty years old, dad. Don't you think it's too little too late? You hurt me. You disrespected my wife and ignored my kids. You treated all of us like we were the lowest of the low. Sam's my..." he wiped at the tears that spilled down his tired face. "She was my everything and the way you treated her..."

"I'm sorry, Donnie. I am so sorry. Please believe me. And I know you're hurting, son. I know it hurts like a bitch. Loosing her like this."

"It does. It hurts like a bastard, dad. This pain...this is the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. I miss her. So much I can't sleep. I can't sleep and I can't eat. I can barely function. I miss her and I love her and I can't..." he took a deep, shaky breath. "I can't do it, dad. Without her. I don't want to live without her."

"Don't talk like that. You're a strong man. You can get through anything. You will get through this. She'd want you to get through this. For yourself and those kids you brought into this world together. It took the two of you to make those kids. Not just her. And they need their father."

"I just...all these thoughts, dad. Sam was...you're the first person outside of the team I am telling this to. Sam was almost three months pregnant when she died, dad."

"Jesus, Donnie."

"So I didn't just loose my wife. I lost my child too."

"Son, I am sorry...so, so sorry."

"My heart is shattered, dad. I don't think it'll ever be the same. She was my wife. The mother of my kids. And all I want is to see her again and touch her and kiss her and tell her I love her. Say all those things I never said while she was here."

"She may be gone, son, but she can hear you."

"Can she? Then she must be ignoring me as usual." Flack managed a small laugh. "'Cause she's not answering me. Typical for her."

"Tell you what. Why don't you let me and your mother take the kids for a few days. Give you some time to get yourself straightened around before you go back to work."

"I don't know..." Flack considered it. "The boys have school and Mikayla has day care."

"And your mother and I will make sure they get there. Your mother would love to have them around. And honestly, so would I. Give me a chance to get to know them. Especially this little angel, here. She's beautiful, Donnie."

"She reminds me of her mother. Personality wise. She's bubbly and outgoing and she giggles a lot. And mouthy. She's only two but she can mouth off in that baby talk. Feisty little Brooklyn girl." he smiled and kissed his daughter's head. "Just like her mother. I miss her dad. So much. This should have happened. She didn't deserve that. To see her like that. To watch her die. Christ dad, she didn't deserve that. To have to take her off those machines and watch her die..."

Sr reached out and laid a hand on his son's leg.

"It shouldn't have been her. I let her down. I should have been me. I promised I'd protect her. And I failed. Twice. First with Dean Truby and now with this. I failed her."

"No, Donnie. You didn't. You couldn't have known this was going to happen."

Flack squeezed his eyes shut. "It hurts, dad. Knowing I'll never see her again or kiss her or make love to her or see her smile or hear her voice. It hurts so bad. I can't take it. I can't go on without her."

"Yes. You can. You have to, Donnie. For yourself and your kids. For her."

Flack nodded. You don't understand, dad, he thought. I'm not strong. I'm weak. I'm weak and it's the only relief from this pain. And I hope one day you'll understand why I did it and forgive me.

The sound of loud, arguing voices coming through the window captured Flack's attention and his eyes snapped open. People fighting. Sounded like Rick, Carmen, Speed and Danny.

"Better check on that." Sr said. "Here...give me the baby."

Flack stood up slowly and placed the baby in his father's strong arms. Went to the window and peered out. Sure enough, Rick and Speed were arguing toe to toe while Danny played referee and Carmen stood between the two men.

"Hey, dad." Flack said. "How about playing grampa for a while?"

**Thanks to everyone out there R and R'ing!! I appreciate it and it keeps me writing. And for those of you (you know who you are) who have sent me messages saying Flack would not be this torn up over his wife's death and would 'get over it and find someone qucikly', you have obviously never experienced that kind of love.**

**Today I am plugging:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**Madison Bellows: Positive**

**laplandgurl: Magnet for Trouble**

**Bluehaven4220: Samson and Delilah**

* * *


	54. From good to bad in eight to one

**From good to bad in eight to one**

"I've been awake for awhile now,  
you've got me feeling like a child now  
'Cause every time I see your bubbly face,  
I get the tinglees in a silly place.  
It starts in my toes  
and I crinkle my nose  
where ever it goes, I always know  
that you make me smile  
please stay for a while now  
just take your time  
wherever you go."  
-Bubbly, Colbie Caillat

**Thanks to my song mistress Mauveine!!**

* * *

Monday morning dawned bright and early. Despite the gorgeous sunshine and electric blue skies and thick white clouds and the breeze that kept the temperature in the delightful low eighties, a pallor had fallen upon the residents of New York City, and most significantly, the members of both the NYPD and FDNY. Two short days away from the sombre seventh anniversary of September 11th. Every one within the two departments had lost someone that day. Whether it be a close friend or relative or a co-worker and in some cases, such as Mac's, a dearly loved spouse. Every year when the anniversary rolled around, tempers and nerves seemed to be frayed and emotions at an extreme low. In two days family and friends would gather at Ground Zero. No longer a desolate hole in the ground, the construction was finally beginning to take shape on what would be known as the Freedom Tower. Although it was unspoken, many disagreed with anything being done with the sight, feeling it was a mass grave yard and breaking the soil would be nothing short of desecration. Many would have rather seen a memorial park, such as the one that graced the grounds of the former Alfred P Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City that Timothy McVeigh had blown to hell and gone thirteen years ago.

Sam was thinking about September 11th and her own personal views on rebuilding on the Ground zero site (she found it disgusting and that building another tower just as high, if not more, was just asking for someone to come along the knock the damn thing down all over again. Why give someone the chance? She kept said views to herself, as September 11th was still a raw, open wound for some, including Flack who'd lost friends that day, and she didn't want to offend or hurt anyone) as she and Carmen ate breakfast at one of the tables in the lab break room. They'd both gotten there well ahead of their scheduled nine o'clock start. Carmen had come in with Speed who'd had to be in autopsy for eight, and Sam had arrived just before seven thirty because Flack had a eight o'clock task force meeting with ATF and DHS regarding an upcoming bust he was taking part in.

"What are you thinking about?" Carmen asked her friend around a mouthful of banana muffin, steaming coffee in a travel mug to her left. Watching as her friend stared thoughtfully out the window while munching on a breakfast burrito from McDonalds. Two, actually. Along with a hash brown and a tea and container of apple juice.

"Hmmm?" Sam replied, snapping out of her daze.

"You're never this quiet." Carmen told her. "Ever. You're usually so cheerful in the morning. Which, may I add, makes me want to punch you out some times."

"I was just thinking about the disaster that took place at Don's parents last night."; Sam said, telling a half truth.

"Oh God. What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that when he got home he was upset and refused to talk about it. I've never seen him that upset so you just know that whatever happened, was not good. And now I have to worry about when my mom and Sarge are going to show up." Sam shook her head. "And the doctor said to avoid stress. Yeah, right."

She was also not impressed that when she arrived that morning and checked the duty roster, she found herself stuck in the lab spending her time between AV, trace and lay out. It was the beginning of the end and she knew it. There'd be no more field work. The doctor at Women's and Children's had faxed Mac a very strict limited duties form in order to keep her as stress free and healthy as possible. And she'd found out when she tried to convince Mac to let her out in the field a little while longer, that Mac was planning on sticking to the doctor's suggestions. To a tee. Nothing to do with radiation or x-rays. Nothing that expose her to corrosive or toxic substances. No heavy lifting. No running. No climbing. No potentially harmful experiments. And no ballistics.

No ballistics made her feel as if her best friend had moved away and was never coming back. She was not impressed. On top of that, all of her pants were getting tighter and tighter every day. As she slowly approached her fourth month, it was already time to buy some maternity clothes.

Both girls glanced up as Stella came breezing into the room, her curls bouncing against her shoulders and face. She had a serious, almost pissed off look on her face that told Sam and Carmen her issue was work related. And she carried a brown paper bag in her hand.

"I am so glad I found you two." Stella said as she took a seat at the table. "I have something to show you guys."

Sam frowned as she bit into her hash brown. "Can it at least wait until after I eat. If I see anything gross while I'm eating, I'm liable to throw up all over the place."

"Says the girl who eats the grossest food on the planet." Carmen teased her best friend. "How do you eat that stuff? Nothing but grease and crap."

"Hey, it's what the baby wants, okay? He's already in complete control. Last night, at two in the morning, I woke Don up out of a dead sleep and asked him to make me grilled cheese."

"Did he do it?" Stella asked.

"Uh, yeah." Sam replied. "Does he have a choice? He got me in this predicament, he can pay the price."

"I have never seen you eat this much." Stella commented.

"It's constant." Sam said, sipping her juice. "I am always hungry. And I'm trying to eat as healthy as possible, but it is damn hard."

"You can tell it's Flack's kid." Stella laughed. "The baby has his appetite. Won't stop eating."

"Exactly." Sam agreed. "Must be a boy."

"Another Flack." Carmen shook her head. "Two in one house? Poor you. Which one is the baby?"

Sam laughed. &"The grown man is harder work. Trust me. So what's up, Stel?"

Stella opened the paper bag and pulled out a glossy magazine. "I bought this last night and I wanted to share some things with you two." she said. "See your reactions to it."

It was the newest copy of Cosmopolitan with Carmen Electra on the cover.

"Good choice!" Sam enthused. "She's my girl crush."

"You are seriously disturbed." Stella said.

"I thought I was your girl crush." Carmen pouted dramatically.

"I still love you best." Sam assured her. "What does the main headline say? His G-spot. I like this magazine all ready. Except I already know what it's going to say. And there's no way in hell I am ever getting anywhere near it. It's the prostrate, right? It has to be."

"How do you know these things?" Stella asked, flipping to a dog eared page.

"How do you not know?" Sam retorted. "Everyone knows that. See!" she pointed to a spot on the page. "It is! Shit it's tough being smarter than everyone else."

Carmen laughed. "I think you mean being more perverted than everyone else. And for the record, I gently suggested the prostrate thing the other night and Tim none to gently refused."

"I don't even bother to ask." Sam said. "I just tried and got the 'what the fuck are you doing?' reaction. Don is dead set against anything remotely near his ass. And if I was to just go ahead and do it without his permission, he'd probably slap me out. He said there's experimenting and then there's crossing the line and that is crossing the line.'

"Yeah, but if he's anything like Tim, I bet you he wouldn't think twice about asking if he could do it to you." Carmen said.

"Oh he's asked. And usually he's very persuasive, but it is never going to happen. Ever."

"Flack and Speed are wimps." Stella declared. "Mac lets me do it to him."

Carmen spit a mouthful of coffee across the table and Sam gagged on some of her breakfast and had to take some juice to control her coughing and sputtering.

"So you tell them that if a Marine will do it, to suck it up." Stella finished.

"Not even that will convince him." Sam said. "He has the 'anything up my butt makes me gay' thought in his head. So what else does this thing say?" she stood up and leaned over the table to check out the magazine. "We've done this," she pointed to a certain suggestion. "This...I would love to try this...and we've done this...so everything but the first one and we are good to go."

"You and Flack have one active, kinky sex life." Stella informed her.

Sam smiled. "Oh yes, we do."

"Which is why she's knocked up." Carmen said. "Lots of kink, no common sense."

"And check this out." Stella said and referred to the magazine. "Sex tricks for every day of the weeks. Monday: after dinner, ask him to take you on the kitchen counter."

Sam finished her juice and moved on to her tea. "Done it. More than once."

"Tim and I make it a common practice." Carmen said.

Stella continued. "Tuesday: put on a racy DVD to surprise him."

"Done it." Sam said. "More than once.'

"You are a dirty girl!" Carmen exclaimed.

"Wednesday, drip candle wax down his back and his butt."

"Never going to happen." Sam declared. "Don is way too alpha-male for stuff like that."

"I feel like I should be writing all of this down." Carmen said.

"Don't worry." Stella told her. "I'll make copies. Thursday, pull the car over to a secluded spot and recline his seat all the way back and go to town."

"Done it." Sam said. "Enjoyed it. Backseat mind you. I think that's when the baby was conceived."

"That kid is going to have such a complex." Carmen sighed.

"Friday," Stella went on. "E-mail him a list of five naughty things you want him to do to you."

Sam giggled. "I like that one. What day is it today? Do we have to go in order or can we mix up the days?"

"I think you can just do whatever order you want." Stella said. "Saturday, and this is a good one for Flack 'cause he's a sports freak, bet on whatever game is on. The winner gets do to whatever they want in the bedroom afterwards."

"He already does whatever he wants." Sam said. "No challenge there."

"And Sunday, lounge around in nothing but your sexiest underwear and see how long he's able to resist you."

"Less then ten seconds." Carmen said.

Sam laughed. "I was going to say less than thirty and that he'd have the underwear off in less than eight."

Stella sighed. "Oh to be young and perverted and sex crazed. And check this out." she flipped to another page. "Now Speed is how old, Carmen?"

"Thirty three." she replied.

"And Flack's still a baby. Just turned thirty, right?"

Sam nodded. "Going on thirteen but that's another story."

"This is about guys' sex drives at certain ages." Stella told them. "Okay, early thirties. The guy is still really libidinous. He may start getting serious about his health. Going to the gym, quitting smoking, cutting back on drinking...'

"He's always gone to the gym." Sam said. "So that part is right. And yes to the libidinous part, too. So in order, yes, yes, yes and yes."

"Also says that a stressful job can cause problems in the bedroom and prevent him from getting aroused quickly." Stella added.

Sam laughed. "What? Yeah...right. There is no problem there. Maybe he's more in the mid to late twenties category. What does that say?"

"It says that he's still young enough to go all night but old enough to have learned a thing or two. By the close of the twenties, he has probably had, on average, five partners."

"Please." Sam scoffed. "It's like twice that."

"And it says if you're lucky, your predecessors have taught him the ins and outs of oral sex."

Carmen just giggled.

"Oh yes, they have." Sam said with a sigh. "I should get all their names and send out thank you cards."

Carmen burst out laughing. "Sam, you are so honest sometimes."

"And it says that the best sex lasts between seven and thirteen minutes." Stella finished.

"What!" Sam and Carmen exclaimed together.

"That doesn't even seem worth the effort of getting undressed." Carmen complained.

"Even when he's drop down drunk he lasts longer than that." Sam said. "Don would be majorly insulted to be part of that group. And I'd be insulted if it only lasted that long. Foreplay lasts a hell of a lot longer than that!"

"You lucky, lucky girl." Stella sighed.

"Sam is just brutal on the poor guy." Carmen declared.

"He's never had it so good or so much." Sam said confidently. "Trust me."

"The question is, have you ever had it so good or so much?" Stella inquired.

"Are you kidding? I had zero sex life or interest in one before Don. If you knew what Zack was like, you'd understand."

"I am so going to try that text message thing." Carmen decided.

"Me, too." Sam giggled. "I'm gonna send it right in the middle of his meeting while he's surrounded by the ATF and DHS people."

"He'll either kill you or run over here to get laid." Carmen declared.

"Need a good place, I recommend the janitor's closet on the seventh floor." Stella said.

"Stella!" Carmen exclaimed. "Are you trying to tell us that you and Mac engage in a little work place sex?"

"From time to time." she admitted. "I say take it when and where you can get it."

The three women burst out laughing. Just as Adam and Speed walked in. The girls shut up quickly when they saw the two men, and Stella quickly stashed the magazine in the bag.

"Do I even want to know?" Speed asked.

"No. You don't." Sam replied as she got out her cell phone and began typing a message. "Trust me."

"They're planning something." Adam said nervously. "I can tell. Conspiring."

"That is for us to know," Carmen said and winked at Speed. "And you to find out."

* * *

Flack was bored. The agent heading the raid on the Department of Homeland Security's side of things had been talking for the last half an hour about nothing remotely related to the task at hand. In fact, he hadn't mentioned the raid once. The middle aged agent -was it Fleming? Fuller? Fletcher? Flack couldn't even remember anymore- with his steel grey eyes and his chiseled features and his expensive Armani suit, had done nothing but boast about the number of successful terrorism related arrests the DHS had overseen since 9-11. It was like watching a promotional video on all the reasons to choose a career with the United States government. The more the man talked, the more Flack tuned out.

Now he was staring out the window of the conference room on the 15th floor of the crime lab, thinking about everything but the long winded speech taking place at the front of the room. He was a little tired. Not the usual dragging my ass kind of exhaustion he'd experienced many times in the past, but more a I could use about another couple hours of sleep kind of tired. He wasn't entirely sure when he'd fallen asleep the night before, but the emotional melt down had wiped him out, and then Sam had the nerve to shake him awake at two and ask him to make her something to eat. Grilled cheese at that. Which she smothered in mustard and ketchup. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his street clothes and went back to bed after she had ner nasty little snack. Only to be woken up again at three thirty be a slight nightmare. Finding Sam sleeping soundly. On her stomach. He had to roll her back over onto her back without waking her up.

And the nightmare...he hadn't had nightmares since the ones about the bombing stopped a few months before. In this dream, the doctor had pulled them into her office to tell them that there was something catasthropically wrong with the baby. Something incompatible with life and they were given the option to either abort or try and carry to term. He had no idea what prompted him to dream about something so terrible, other than the fact the doctor was suppose to be calling that day with the results of Sam's triple screen test and Flack had been silently paranoid that something would be wrong with the baby. But the nightmare had caused him to wake up drenched in sweat and with his heart racing.

One of the younger detectives who often worked under Flack during cases, Brendan Doyle, was sitting to Flack's left. Doyle was a six foot four bean pole with ears. Shocking red hair and a face full of freckles and vibrant green eyes that matched his personality. He had graduated top of his class, and just narrowly missed beating Flack's record of hitting detective at such a young age by only two months. Doyle noticed Flack staring off into space and leaned over and gave him a slight slap to the shoulder to snap the older detective out of his daze.

Flack pried his eyes away from the window and sipped a cup of luke warm black coffee and tried his best to pay attention. He felt his cell phone, clipped to his pants, vibrate against him and he took it off his waist band to check the caller ID. An incoming text message from Sam. She knew he was in a meeting and would only try to get a hold of him if there was something wrong. He immediately feared bad news from the doctor. He held the phone in his lap to check the message inconspicuously. At first, he didn't believe what he was reading. Then a huge grin spread across his face.

_Hope your meeting is going okay. Can't wait to see you. 'Cause when I do, I want you to lick me from head to toe and then fuck the shit out of me. Okay? Love you. Hope this cheered you up a bit. P.S.: I'm going to lick you, too. In your squad car._

He almost laughed out loud at that last part. Never should have told her about my little squad car fantasy, he thought. Thinking about doing all those things to her later, and imaging her even half naked was enough make him on edge. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Not the most opportune time to be getting turned on. He kept that phone in his lap and sent back his own message.

_I'm gonna make you fucking scream my name and make you come like you've never come before. And I'll find a nice, quiet secluded place to park to do it too. Love you too. P.S. Thanks for giving me a hard on in the middle of a meeting. Now get to work._

Doyle noticed Flack squirming in his seat and intently working on his phone and leaned in close. "Everything okay, Flack?" he asked in a whisper. "You okay?"

Flack grinned and put his phone back. "I am more than okay. Trust me."

Now he just hoped that that meeting would be over and done with and he could make a nice little trip upstairs to the thirty-fifth floor.

* * *

Shortly before noon hour, Sam was hunched over a table in the lay out room, peering through a magnifying glass as she carefully, thoroughly looked over Danny and Carmen's crime scene photos spread out on the glass table top. The recently developed photos (another task she was forbidden from doing, seeing as the chemicals in the dark room could be considered toxic) were gruesome. A triple homicide in Harlem. A man armed with a sawed off shotgun had burst into a pharmacy shortly after opening and robbed them of drugs and cash. When one of the employees tripped a panic button to alert police, the perp had executed all three of the employees in the store at the time before getting away with the cash and drugs.

Danny was down the hall in the AV room pouring over surveillance tapes from both the inside and outside of the pharmacy and those that belonged to neighbouring businesses. Carmen was across the room from Sam, collecting trace off of one of the victim's clothes. The small stereo on a shelf at the back of the room playing a mixed CD Danny had brought in that day.

"Hey, Sam," Carmen said, pausing in her search from trace to sip a bottled water. "Seeing as your Miss Celebrity Gossip Queen, did you see the pics of Britney Spears' sister at her baby shower in OK?"

"No. I didn't. Don got me a People Magazine with the 50 Most Beautiful in it and other than Patrick Dempsey, I disagree with every choice. Well, other than David Beckham."

Carmen grinned. "Yes, I know of your little fascination with Becks."

"So this baby shower? Was train wreck Britney there?"

"She was."

"My guilty pleasure is watching that girl just disintegrate before our eyes. Sounds awful, I know. But it gives me great joy to think someone who has so much money and materialistic shit has such a crappy life and I have barely enough money to pay off all my student loans and credit cards, yet I am so happy with my life."

Carmen smiled. "Helps when your baby daddy and soon to be husband is as hot as he is."

"True. I am a lucky girl. And while I won't judge Jamie Lynn or whatever her name is for getting pregnant at such a young age, I do have to wonder where her mother was. Especially when the family is supposedly so southern, church going Baptist. If I got pregnant at seventeen, my mother would have kicked my ass for sure."

"Your parents want to kick your ass now and you're thirty." Carmen teased her. "But I can't imagine having a baby at thirty, never mind seventeen."

"You're time is coming." Sam said. "Trust me."

"You shut up over there."

Sam grinned. "Trust me. You know what irritates me the most about her having a kid? She won't have to do all the stressful hard work after the kid is born. She'll just hire a team of nannies and let them do all the work and her rich sister will fit the bill. And people like us, who work so hard, we'll have to struggle to take care of our kids. Don and I are already trying to figure out how we'll keep the kid in diapers and clothing. We've decided we'll probably move in a couple years time. Maybe even sooner. Somewhere cheaper where we can get a bigger place for the same amount of money here in Manhattan. Most likely Queens."

"Queens, huh? A Brooklyn girl living in Queens? Doesn't seem quite right."

Sam laughed." I know. But I won't move back to Brooklyn and he won't go to Staten Island or Far Rockaway, so we're running out of options. And then he drops a bomb on me last night in bed and tells me that when he's retired, we are moving someplace nice and quiet, far, far away."

Carmen arched an eyebrow and glanced back at her friend. "Flack said that?"

"Shocking, huh? I never thought I'd ever hear him say something like that. He'll say something different four days from now, though. I think he's just a little down after that thing with his parents last night. It didn't go very well and I don't expect to be meeting them anytime soon."

Sam set the magnifying glass on the table top and straightened her posture and stretched and yawned noisily. "I see nothing out ot the ordinary with your crime scene photos." she told Carmen. "I looked at that blood spatter by the second vic that Danny thought didn't look right a few times and there's nothing weird about it. You can have a look yourself, but I don't see it personally."

"I don't even have useable trace off of these clothes." Carmen complained. "And all the hairs have no tags at the end."

"No tags, no DNA." Sam sighed and put the photos back in the folder. "My back is killing from leaning over for that long!" she exclaimed, taking the photos over to Carmen's work station and adding them to a small stack of folders.

"It's all the crazy sex you're having." Carmen told her.

"For your information, we didn't have sex at all yesterday or this morning."

"Hell must have frozen over. You send that text message?"

"Right after we talked about it. And I got a very dirty one back."

"I sent mine too, but he never returned it."

"Maybe he's waiting until he sees you in person." Sam said.

"You going to see Gus today?" Carmen asked.

"My last appointment. Makes me kinda sad. I really liked talking to her. Adam's coming with me."

"That's sweet of him."

"Please. He's only coming along because he has a huge crush on her and he knows that now that I'm not her patient anymore, maybe he can make his move. Men always have an ulterior motive."

"Adam has a thing for Gus?"

"Big time. Could you just see him and Gus together? I think they make a cute couple."

"They do, actually. What is going on around this place? Everyone is hooking up around here. All we need to do is find Hawkes a nice woman and that'll be everyone."

"You know," Sam said as she changed her gloves and then opened an evidence bag and lay the contents out before her. "If Don wasn't in the picture, I would have gone for Hawkes. He's so cute and so sweet and so soft spoken. He's just a pure gentleman."

Carmen grinned. "That baby better now come out bi-racial or I am kicking your ass. I'm warning you now."

Sam laughed. "Like that episode of Nip/Tuck. Both were white and the baby came out bi-racial. Don would so not be amused one bit."

Sam's cell phone, tucked in the pocket of her lab coat began to ring and she grabbed it to check the caller. "Carmen, I'll be right back." she said. "I have to take this."

"Doctor?" Carmen asked.

Sam nodded. "Give me a few and I'll be back to help. I hope this isn't bad news."

"I'm sure everything will be okay." Carmen assured her, watching as her friend headed from the lab.

Please let everything be fine for her, Carmen prayed.

* * *

Flack met her upstairs to take her for lunch just as she was finishing up helping Carmen pull trace evidence off of all the clothing. There was no time for even a proper meal, let alone taking off for awhile like they both wanted to, considering how hot and bothered a simple text message had made them both, made only worse that for them, no sex in twenty four hours was a sign of the Apocalypse. And Flack had no idea when he was ever getting off work. Between the meeting that never seemed like it was going to end and the other work he still had to tackle when he got out of the meeting, it looked very much like a triple lingering on the horizon.

Instead of a sit down meal, they opted instead for food off of the many carts that took up residence on the sidewalk in front of and around the crime lab. Flack for the most part, had avoided food off a cart for months now since the unfortunate and tramatizing incident months ago that ruined his appetite for street fare forever, but with no time for an actual sit down meal at a restaraunt, a couple hot dogs and a pop for him and a pretzel with mustard dip and ever present chocolate milk for her, was as good at it was going to get. Forty five minute break for both of them, spent sitting on a bench across the street from the lab under the warm sun was as close to privacy as they would accomplish.

Flack talked about the meeting and Sam shared her gripes about being bored senseless stuck in the lab. He knew the transition to full time lab work wasn't going to be an easy or accepted one for her, and that she had hoped to go at least a couple more months in the field, but it was just too risky to have her out there.

"I know you don't see it the same way I do," he said. "but it's the best thing for you and the baby. There's too much that could go wrong out in the field. And it's only for a few months and then you'll be off."

"As much as I need a vacation..." Sam snorted.

"I know. The thought of being home for that long is killing you. But it doesn't make sense for us to split the leave because I make more money than you do. And honestly, I am not meant to be a stay at home dad. I'll go nuts. It's better if I work and you do the full time mother thing."

She frowned. "Should I be finding that completely sexist?"

"It's completely honest. You'll be a way better mother than I will be a father. Trust me. This kid will be better off being home with you."

"You're totally underestimating yourself, Don. You'll be a great dad. I have faith in you."

He smiled and put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"The doctor called about half an hour ago." Sam said, picking at her pretzel and leaning into his side.

"And?" he sipped his Coke and hoped he sounded calmer than he felt.

"There was a slight problem with my test."

"Slight? What do you mean by that?"

"We really should talk about this later. When we're not working."

"You just brought it up. You can't just back down and expect me to be able to go back to work knowing there's a problem."

"There's not a problem." she corrected him. "The test shows there could be."

"Christ woman, stop talking in riddles and just tell me what the doctor said."

"She said that the test showed I have a sixty percent chance of having a baby with a chromosonal or genetic defect."

"Okay. What kind of defects?"

"Genetic would be something like Spina Bifida. Chromosome would be say Trisomy 21. Which is Down Syndrome. There's way worse syndromes but they're very, very rare. The test isn't saying the baby has something for sure, just that we need more tests."

"What kinds of tests?" Flack asked, trying to stop the panic from hitting full force.

"They'd repeat the blood work at sixteen weeks and then if it still comes back as a problem, then they'd do an amniocentesis and a more in depth ultrasound."

"So they think there's a problem but can't find out for sure for at least two weeks or maybe more." Flack concluded.

"Exactly."

"And if there is? Something wrong? I mean, we talked about that. We said we would have the baby regardless unless it was something life threatening to either of you. That we'd deal with a disability. If we agreed on all this, why have any tests?"

"We still should know for sure." Sam said.."With Spina Bifida they can preform in utero surgery to close the hole in the spine. With a disability we could at least prepare for a special needs child. Going into it blind is not smart. I mean, don't you want to know if there is something wrong?"

"Of course. But I read in that book of yours at home that an amnio can cause worse problems. There's like a one in two hundred and fifty chance of a miscarriage. And what did the doctor say our chances of having a kid with Down syndrome was? Based on your age? One in a thousand? If we plan on keeping the baby regardless, I'll take the one in a thousand odds any day."

"I just think it would be smart to know before hand." Sam reasoned.

"At the risk of loosing the baby?"

She sighed heavily.

"It's your choice, Samantha." Flack said and removed his arm from her shoulders and stood up. He tossed his trash in the nearby can. "It's your body and you're the mother. Do what you want. I have to get back."

She stared after him, mouth open in complete shock at his behaviour as he simply walked away, stepped off the curb and waited for traffic to clear before crossing the street. Leaving her sitting there. Oh hell no, she thought and went after him.

"My choice?" she fumed, grabbing his arm on the sidewalk out front of the lab. "No. It doesn't work like that, Don. This isn't a one man show. We made this baby together. It's yours just as much as it is mine. We have to agree on something. You have a right to help me make a choice and speak your mind. That's your right as the father."

"Fine." he said. "My choice is not to have any more tests. Another blood test is okay. But nothing else."

"But another blood test will only tell us a percentage. Don't you want to know for sure?"

"Not at the expense of losing the baby. We agreed that even if something was wrong, we would keep it. So what does it matter?"

"It matters because we'd know what we were up against." she said.

"Why the hell are you being so selfish about this?" Flack asked.

"I'm being selfish!? Because I want what's best for us and our baby?"

"Is it not better to have the baby of there being something wrong than risk loosing it?"

"I just think it's better if we prepare ourselves ahead of time." she argued.

"But if it doesn't make a difference whether we keep it or not what the hell does it matter if we get the tests done?" he fired back.

"I would just like to know in case I would..."

"In case you what? Change your mind? I thought you said this was our decision together. And now you're saying you'd decided to do something if there's a problem?"

"I never said that Don! Why are you making this so difficult?"

"Why are you making it seem as if you only want a baby if it's perfect!" he countered.

"I never said that! Don't make me out to be a bad person, Don! I love this baby no matter what! You know that! I just think it would be smart to know before hand so we can prepare ourselves!"

"And I think if it doesn't make a difference, what the fuck does it matter!" he bellowed.

"Don't yell at me!"

"I am not yelling."

"Yes, you are! Don't yell at me and make me out to be an evil bitch!"

"Well to me, you are acting like one right now." he told her.

She fumed. "You know what? Fuck you, Don. Okay? If you're going to act like this and treat me like this, than fuck you!"

She turned to leave and head into the building but Flack caught her by the upper arm and pulled her back to him.

"We're not done here." he informed her.

"Yes, we are." she said. "I have to get back to work and go see Gus. You have a meeting to get back to."

"Fuck the meeting!" he yelled. "This is more important than the meeting!"

The front doors swung open and a stone face Gerrrard stepped out and joined them. He'd heard the argument -as had at least a dozen other people coming and going out of the building and on the sidewalk- and decided to end it. It was neither the time, or place for such behaviour.

"Detective Flack." he said sternly. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be? And Detective Ross, I am sure Detective Taylor has work for you upstairs. Instead of you causing problems for my detectives."

"I have to go." Sam told Flack, pulling her arm from his grip.

"Sam, come on." Flack said. "Don't do this."

"We'll talk about this later, Don. Okay? I have to go and stop causing you problems."

He sighed heavily. "Samantha..."

She shot Gerrard a foul look as she breezed through the door he was holding open for her and motioning for her to hurry along through.

Flack fumed. Hands on his hips.

"Apparently you don't listen very well, Flack." Gerrard said. "Remember what I told you about her causing you problems?"

"You know what? Stay out of my personal business." Flack told the older man as he headed for the door. He stopped, and nose to nose with the man, added "Sir." before heading indoors.

* * *

As they sat reading old dog eared copies of magazines in the waiting room of Gus' office, Adam could tell that something wasn't right with his sister. She was quiet and withdrawn and gave little or no answer when he asked her things and didn't seem interested when he tried getting her into a conversation.

"You okay, Sammie?" he asked with concern. "You're not yourself. You were all bubbly today and now..."

"I just have some things on my mind." she replied. "Nothing major."

Adam regarded her skeptically. "How many years did you and I grow up together?" he asked.

Sam sighed. "The doctor called with the results of my triple screen today." she told him.

"Okay. And..."

"And she said that I have an increased chance of having a baby with a chromosome or genetic problem."

"But just a chance, right?"; Adam asked. "Not a sure thing? 'Cause I learned in university biology that those tests can be wrong and there could be no problem at all. And that they shouldn't be done until at least sixteen weeks to be more accurate. Why they did it to you so early is beyond me."

"I have to go back and get the test re-done." Sam said. "If it comes back again that there's a problem, they want to do some other tests."

"Like an amnio, stuff like that? I can understand you being upset, but I thought you and Flack agreed to have a baby no matter what the problem is, if there is one."

"We did. But we had a slight disagreement earlier." Sam said

"About?"

"He doesn't want to do anymore tests because he's afraid of the risk. I think it would be nice to know in order to prepare ourselves for a child with special needs. We kinda had a fight about it."

"A bad fight?" Adam asked.

"Bad enough. We didn't part under nice terms."

"Well, as much as you're gonna kill me for saying this, I have to agree with Flack on this."

"Go figure." Sam huffed. "You're a man."

"I just think if you guys agreed to have it no matter what, why take the test?" Adam reasoned. "Why risk killing it by having an amnio? What you do is you get the doctor to do the test again, see what comes up, and if it still shows a increased chance, get a in-depth three or four D sonogram and see what they find with that and the ask her to make a list of possible diagnosis."

Sam stared at him. "Why do you have to be smarter than everyone, peanut?" she asked.

"It's tough. Trust me." Adam joked and laid a hand on the back of her neck and squeezed lightly. "It''ll be okay, Sammie. No matter what, you're gonna be an amazing mother."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"And as much as I hate to admit this, Flack will be a great dad."

She nodded. "I know."

"What you need to do is call him and work things out and run my ideas by him. Doesn't hurt to try. You love the guy. He loves you. What more do you need?"

Adam Ross had never spoken wiser words.

**Thanks to everyone R and R'ing. And welcome to all the newcomers! I look forward to hearing from you all! Please review!!**


	55. Kissing up, making up, hooking up

**Kissing up, making up, hooking up (not in that order)**

"Sometimes the system goes on the blink  
and the whole thing turns out wrong.  
You might not make it back and you know  
that you could be well, oh, that strong  
And I'm not wrong."  
-Bad Day, Daniel Powter

* * *

As they sat there in the quiet, stillness of her office, with warm sun streaming through the window and bathing the room in soft light, Gus noted to herself that Samantha Ross was much more quiet than usual. Usually she was more outgoing and forth coming with talking, having come out of her shell remarkably since the beginning of their time together. Gus was impressed with how far Samantha had come, and was genuinely going to miss the young CSI. Sam was so friendly and at times brutally honest, yet she was complex and serious at the same time. And she had a great sense of humor. She was the type of girl that Gus would love to have as a friend. She seemed loyal and trustworthy. Two characteristics that mattered to Gus when it came to allowing anyone, male or female, into her life.

Gus sat back, calmly and patiently, giving Sam the time she needed to sort through all the thoughts in her head. Allowing her the time to come around gradually to open up about what was bothering her.

"I found out some bad news today." Sam eventually said, absentmindedly twirling her engagement ring around her finger. "It's kinda gotten me down."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Gus asked.

"It was one bad thing that led into a even bigger, worse thing and now I don't know how much damage it's caused or if I can fix it. I want to fix it. I have to fix it. Because I can't live without him and I can't do this alone. I need him. As pathetic as that probably. I need him and depend on him to make everything better."

"Detective Flack?"

Sam nodded. "We had a fight. Over some news we got. It should have been just a simple disagreement but it turned into a fight. I didn't want it to. But with us, it seems like simple disagreements always get blown out of proportion. And then I end up saying mean things without even realizing I said them. I don't want to hurt him. It's not my intention."

"What started the fight?" Gus asked. "You said you received bad news?"

"About the baby. And it's more like potentially bad news. My triple screen test came back and said that I have an increased chance of having a child with a chromosomal or genetic disorder. The doctor wants to run another blood test again in a month. Don and I agree on the blood work, but he's dead set against other, invasive testing."

"In an earlier appointment, you said that the two of you talked about something like this happening, and that both of you adamently agreed to having the baby regardless of whether or not it had problems or was perfectly healthy."

"I do want this baby. No matter what. I love this baby. Don and I made this baby together and it doesn't matter if it's perfect or not. But I like the idea of getting a definite answer so we can prepare and do research on whatever it is and be ready for it. But he thinks it's better to have the baby than risk loosing it through an amnio. And I understand where he's coming from. I do. And he has a right to feel that way. I mean, this is his baby, too. His first child. He's just as scared and nervous as I am. But I want him to see my point too."

"You don't think he does?" Gus asked.

"I don't know." Sam admitted. "Don's a my way or the highway kind of guy. He's very aggressive and domineering and he hates when someone disagrees with him."

Gus arched an eyebrow. "Almost a much as you hate it when someone disagrees with you?" she asked.

Sam frowned. "I never thought of it that way. I guess I do tend to get a little hostile when someone doesn't agree with me."

"A suggestion?" Gus said. "Take it or leave it. Sit down with him and the two of you write out the pros and cons of having the invasive testing done. Talk openly with each other. Ask each other how you're both feeling about the situation and how you'd both feel having a child with special needs. A 'normal', and I hate using that term, child changes your life drastically. A child with a disability even more so. Ask each other how that would feel, all the time and energy. Write it all down and see what the other person says. No arguing or disagreeing. Just listening. I think you'll both be surprised to see what the other says."

Sam nodded. "We can try that."

"Now last week, you told me you were feeling nervous and anxious about becoming a mother. That all of this sort of just jumped up and bit you in the behind so to speak. Let's expand on that. Tell me what you're nervous and anxious about?"

"I guess I'm worried because of the way I was raised, I won't be a good mother. My mom...I love her. Really, I do. She turned herself around when she met my step-dad. He was a real God send for her. And for us. But sometimes I'm still angry at her for not getting away from my real dad, for not protecting me and Adam."

"You can't change what happened. But you can make sure you never let yourself, or your chid, fall into the same trap. What is your relationship like now with your mother?"

"Pretty good. We walk on the phone, e-mail each other. She's a totally different person now and I love her and I'm proud of her."

"Could you talk to her about how your feeling? Tell her you need to get some things aired out?"

"I suppose. She's pretty open minded."

"It's normal, when you've gone through a traumatic event like you did as a child, to have some sort of apprehension to something. In your case, it's being a mother. But let's face it, hon, that baby can't stay inside of you forever. In five months time, that little baby will be out in this world and dependant on you, as its mommy. So you have to accept the fact that while you can't be a perfect mother, you can be a damn good one."

Sam smiled. "I'll try."

"You won't try." Gus said sternly. "You'll do it. Now I'll give you some phone numbers for some parental support groups. It might help to talk to women who once had the same feelings and reservations and came out on top. And I have some numbers for some female officers who've had children and found it difficult being off the job for so long."

Gus got up from her chair and went to her desk and grabbed a sheet of paper with telephone numbers written on it and re-joined Samantha. "You've come a long way," she said, "I'm very proud of you."

Sam stood up as well and took the offered paper and shook Gus' hand. "Thank you. For listening to me go on and on. And for helping me and making me feel so comfortable. I appreciate it. Am I free to go?"

"Free as a bird. You've fulfilled your eight weeks and I don't see a need to keep you here any longer."

"So maybe we could go for coffee sometime?" Sam asked, picking up her Kate Spade bag from the chair beside her and slinging it over her shoulder. "Hang out? Like friends?"

"We could try that." Gus said. "How about I give you a call and we set something up?"

"I'd like that." Sam smiled as they walked to the door. "Thanks again. For everything. Don may send you a thank you gift for making me less crazy."

"You were a great patient." Gus declared. "You had me a little worried there at first, but you came around nicely. I'll be sending a very impressive report to Chief Inspector Sinclair."

* * *

Adam jumped up from his seat as his sister, accompanied by a stunning Gus in a sleek black pin stripe business suit and a scarlet red blouse underneath, came through the door into the waiting room. He smiled at the gorgeous blond and felt his heart skip a beat and then begin to pound when she returned the smile with a soft one of her own. Sam noticed the little moment between the two. She was a woman after all. There'd been many times she'd smiled at a man in that exact same way. She was pretty sure, in fact, that she had used that smile on Flack months ago outside the crime lab. And it had worked wonders for her.

Maybe this is peanut's chance, Sam thought, and decided to help it along.

"I have to go and use ladies room down the hall." Sam announced. "And I need to make a couple phone calls. I'll meet you outside, Adam? I need some air."

"Uh...yeah..." he nervously agreed. "Sure..."

"Bye, Gus." Sam called as she headed for the door. "We'll talk soon."

"You can count on it." Gus returned, and watched as the pretty brunette disappeared out the door before turning back to Adam. "It's nice to see you, again," she said warmly. "How have you been?"

"Good. Adjusting to the thought of being an uncle. I'm pretty excited about it. At first, I was a little...I don't know...pissed that she had gotten pregnant so quickly and without being married. But I'm getting to know Flack better and I know he loves her and will treat her and the baby right. Take good care of them. So I'm warming up to the idea of it all."

"A baby is always a miracle." Gus declared. "A blessing. And Samantha seems very happy."

"She is. For the most part. Flack's good for her. And she's good for him. She keeps him in line. Tough work, but she manages. How have you been?"

"Good. Busy. Always busy."

"I was thinking," Adam raked a hand through his hair and built up the courage. "that maybe we could...I don't know...I was thinking maybe that I could...we could..."

Gus found Adam Ross appealing. In a dishevelled, frat boy kind of way. So unlike all the men she had ever been involved with in her lifetime. He had beautiful turquoise eyes and thick, unruly hair she longed to run her fingers through and full, lovely lips she wouldn't mind kissing.

God, she thought, feeling herself flush. What is wrong with me? She couldn't help but find his innocent, boyish way attractive. And what made him even more so, was all the glowing, wonderful things his older sister had said about him during her sessions.

Adam took a deep breath and composed himself. "I was thinking that we could go out sometime." he spit out. "To dinner."

Gus blinked. "Okay..."

"You said that you'd go out to dinner with me if my sister wasn't a patient anymore. And now she's not a patient. So maybe Friday I can pick you up? Say around seven?"

"That isn't..."

"Seven thirty?" he offered.

"Adam, I..."

He frowned and felt his heart sink. "Guess you don't want to have dinner with me after all. I...uh...I'm sorry...I better go and find my sister."

Gus watched as he headed for the door. "Wait!" she called. "Adam, please. Come back."

He took the few steps to rejoin her.

"I was just trying to say that I have plans I must keep for Friday." she told him. "You think we could do it another time? Maybe Saturday?"

A broad smile crossed his face. "I work, but I am off at at six." he said.

"I can meet you at the lab." she offered.

"Sure. You can pick the restaurant. Wherever you want to go. Just let me know ahead of time so I'll know what clothes to bring with me that day."

Gus went and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Estelle's desk and handed it to him. Adam jotted down all of his numbers. Home, cell, lab. And even his three e-mail addresses. He handed the paper and pen back to her with an adorable smile that nearly melted Gus' heart.

"So Saturday?" he asked.

"I will call you Friday to tell you the plans." Gus replied.

"I love it when a woman takes charge." Adam said.

Gus grinned. "I like to be in charge." she told him.

"All the time?" he inquired.

"All the time."

"My kind of woman." he declared.

Gus couldn't help but laugh.

Adam blushed. "I better go. Can't keep my pregnant sister waiting. She's majorly hormonal and I hate to set her off. So Saturday?" he started backing up towards the door.

"Six thirty. At the lab." Gus concurred.

"Sounds good. I'll see you then. Well, actually, we'll talk before then." he turned to the door, only to find he was too close to it and banged into it face first.

Gus bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"I...uh...I meant to do that." he said and yanked the door open. "Gotta go."

"Bye, Adam." she said.

"Bye, Gus." he winked at her and stepped out into the hall.

Gus smiled and turned back to head for her office, staring down at the numbers on the paper in her hand. And a wide, bright smile on her face.

* * *

It was shortly after seven in the evening. With Flack's meeting long over, he know found himself swamped with a load of old work and a fresh case. A hit in run in the Bronx that left a young single mother of three dead, the kids orphaned, and her husband in the hospital suffering from a breakdown caused by the unexplainable grief. Flack found himself yawning noisily and craving the largest coffee possible as he stepped off the elevator on the thirty-fifth floor and headed for the trace lab to pick up a report. Evidence had been pulled off the vic's clothing and body that may help at least ID the vehicle involve. Like usual, there were no reliable witnesses.

Flack had been in a foul, edgy, pissed off mood all afternoon, and now, all evening. He hadn't talked to Sam since their arguement outside of the lab, although he did leave her a voice message on her cell apologizing for the way he acted and telling her he was sorry and that he loved her and hoped she wasn't that pissed at him that she'd be ignoring his calls.

Adam was in the AV lab when he saw his future brother in law walk by. He yanked the earphones to his I-pod out of his ears, grabbed a stack of papers resting nearby and hurried out.

"Flack!" he called. "Wait up! Got a sec?"

"I guess. What's up? Walk with me to trace."

Adam fell in step alongside of him. "Sam's not here." he said.

"I know. She left me a message that she was on her way to my place to take a nap. Why? What happened? She call you about something?"

"No. No news and good news, right? She told me about your guys' little fight earlier."

Flack sighed.

"For the record, I am so on your side. I feel the same way as you do. But I thought, just to appease her a bit, I'd look up some stuff for you on the 'net. Do a little research. About amnio's and Choronic Villi Sampling. I also managed to talk her doctor into giving me an idea of what the problem with the baby may be and she gave me some names to check out. Like Spina Bifida, Trisomy 21, 18 and 13. Although those last two are extremely rare and horrific and I doubt we're looking at those. So I printed some things out for you and well..." Adam held the papers out. "Here."

Flack stopped walking and took the papers. "You did this for Sam?" he asked, touched by Adam's gesture.

"Actually, I did it for you." Adam said.

Flack smiled. "Thanks.'

"I knew you were really busy and wouldn't get the time to do it yourself so I just took it upon myself. I just thought that, I don't know. That it might help you. Learn some stuff that maybe you don't already know. Weigh the options, so to speak."

Flack just nodded.

"I mean, she's my sister." Adam said. "And that is my niece or nephew and I want you to know that if there's something wrong, I'm there for you guys a hundred percent. Babysitting, money, support. Whatever. And that this baby...I'll love it and accept it no matter what."

Flack nodded again and bit his lip. Struggled to hold back the threat of tears.

"I know it's a big blow, thinking there might be something wrong, but you and Sam have a lot of people that care about you guys and this baby. And it doesn't make a difference to any of us if there's something wrong. I just wanted you to know that, Don."

It was the first time Flack had ever heard Adam call him by his first name. He was surprised at first. But it seemed to right coming from the lab tech. His future brother in law. Flack was touched by it. Because it showed that they were getting closer. Like family.

Adam laid a hand on the detective's shoulder. "Anything, I mean anything. Just let me know."

"Thanks, Adam. I appreciate that. Look, I better get to work." Flack needed to get away before he broke down then and there.

"Work never ends, huh?" Adam laughed lightly. "Know the feeling. No rest for the weary. Talk later."

"Later." Flack said and watched the lab tech go. He sighed heavily and looked at the papers in his hands. He choked back the lump in his throat and decided first thing was first.

* * *

Flack sat in the break room. He was the only one in there, taking up sole residence of the room and one of the tables. He sipped crappy hours old coffee and flipped through the information Adam had gathered for him as opposed to concentrating on his case. The report from trace sat untouched on the other side of him. He knew his shift was going to keep him around for God knows how long, so he decided to concentrate on what mattered the most.

He read about the tests first. He didn't like the idea of of doctors inserting a massive needle into his wife's stomach (he called her his wife now, although people corrected him when he did it. As far as he was concerned, with the wedding only three months away, she may as well have been his wife already) and sucking out amniotic fluid for testing. The chance of miscarriage was frightening, as was the incidences of massive infections. He didn't care what the piece said about the doctors being highly skilled, the best in the business. And CVS was no damn better. Once again a huge needle was put in there, although this time they took a piece of the placenta for testing purposes. There was a one in a hundred chance of a spontaneous abortion, and the test could cause deformities in the baby at a rate anywhere between one in a hundred and one in a thousand.

The three D or four D ultrasound was as far as he was willing to take the testing. Being able to see the baby in real time and its physical features up close was damn amazing.

He moved on to the papers regarding potential disabilities. Trisomy 13 and 18 (extra copies of the 13th and 18th chromosome) were the most gut wrenching, nauseating things he had ever read. Massive birth defects, major internal problems, severe developmental delay. Low successful live birth rate. Most didn't make it past their first birth day if they managed to be born at all. One plus was that the chance of either one of those disabilities occurring was slim to none. One in ten thousand. So he decided, for his own sanity, to push those two to the back of his mind.

Down Syndrome, as shocking as having his own child with it would be, he knew he could live with. Many people with it lived full, happy, productive lives with the right amount of support and early intervention. So what if his kid was slower than other kids? There were far worse things out there. And Spinia Bifida had always been in the back of his brain. He had two cousins with it on his mother's side and his mother had always told him there was a possibility of his children being born with it. He saw how well his cousins got along. What good lives they were living. So that wasn't the end of the world either.

But those other two...

He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his weary eyes. He needed a break from all the mind boggling reading. He got up to make himself a fresh coffee and grab something to eat from the employee fridge. If there was anything decent to steal. Stella had brought in Baklava and Carmen had chipped in donuts. He helped himself to one of each and waited for the coffee to perk.

Mac wandered quietly into the break room. Flack was at the counter with his back towards him and didn't see him come in. Mac however, noticed the massive amount of papers strewn across the table top and picked them up. He flipped through them, frowning at what he saw.

Flack nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned back to head to the table with his coffee and snacks and saw the boss of the lab standing there. "For Christ sakes, Mac!" he exclaimed. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry. What's all this? Amnioscentisis risk and benefits? Choronic Vili Sampling? Trisomy 21, 18 and 13? Spina Bifida? Something wrong with the baby? Are the doctors worried about something?"

"Adam gave me all that. He thought I might want to read it." Flack said.

"What's wrong with the baby?" Mac asked, deeply concerned.

"They don't know anything for sure." Flack said and sat down. "Sam's triple test came back saying she has a sixty percent chance of having a baby with a chromosome or genetic problem. We're weighing our options to see where we go from here."

Mac sat down across from the young detective who had grown up so much in the past few months. "These are pretty invasive tests." he said. "Lots of risk involved."

"Which is why I don't want her having them done." Flack said. "But, Sam disagrees. She said it would be nice to know so we can be prepared. I figure if we're keeping it no matter what, why does she need them?"

"I can understand where you're coming from." Mac told him. "I would feel the exact same way. It wouldn't make me love my child any less. As a matter of fact, I have a cousin with Down Syndrome. He's forty, lives in an apartment of his own and only needs mild supervision. He has a girlfriend, a job. And he loves life."

"That doesn't bother me." Flack said. "A few of the kids I take out from the Y have special needs. Two have ADD and two have Downs. And those kids, Mac, they're amazing. They're fun and affectionate and just want to be accepted and loved. Who cares if they're a bit slower or look a bit different? They're still human and deserve to be here. And I have cousins with Spina Bifida. I know it's damn hard for the parents, but they wouldn't trade their kids for anything. And neither would I."

"And Samantha?"

"She's scared. I understand that. But she's a good person, Mac. She loves everyone. You know that. She'd accept the baby and love him or her no matter what. I just think there's a difference between knowing, and knowing too much. You know what I mean?"

"I do. Too much info can be lethal. Or drive you crazy."

"Exactly."

"Then do yourself a favor, Flack. Stop driving yourself mental by reading all of this. Go with what's in your heart. You know what's best for you and your family. You and Sam just need to talk things out. Wedded bliss is not always blissful. Claire and I used to fight all the time."

"How'd you guys deal with it?" Flack asked.

"We never went to bed angry or without telling each other we loved each other." Mac replied. "We lived that those two rules. And remember one important thing."

"What's that?"

Mac smiled. "Making up is the best part." he smiled.

* * *

It was two in the morning as he stood by the side of the couch, exhausted and hurting. Watching her sleep. Stretched out on her side, her arm on the arm of the couch, a fleece blanket pulled up to her chin and the t.v. still on and the converter dangling from her finger tips. A bowl of all dressed chips and a glass of what looked like had been pop sat on the coffee table, as did the cordless phone and an empty DVD case. Children of Men. A Clive Owen movie she'd made him but because she found the guy cute. The t.v. was on a blue screen, the movie long over. She looked like an angel. Innocent and peaceful and content. Long dark eyelashes falling on pale cheeks, a slight smile on her lips.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket and removed his tie and tossed both on the back of the couch. Carefully removed the converter from her hand and flicked off the t.v. He'd clean the other stuff in the morning when he got up. He gently peeled the blanket away from her body and was glad to see she was wearing pyjamas. A pair of satin boxer shorts and one of his t-shirts. It meant he didn't have to risk waking her up and getting her undressed and putting her in p.j.'s. Despite his aching back, he lifted her sleeping form effortlessly into his arms. She mumbled in her sleep and put her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder.

In the bedroom he yanked the duvet down with one hand and settled her down on the bed, on her back and covered her to her chin. She murmured again and rolled onto her side, facing him as he quickly undressed and got into a t-shirt and boxers before heading for the bathroom to clean up.

She was tossing and turning when he came back in the room and set the alarm for her. He'd worked nearly eighteen hours and Gerrard had been gracious enough to give him the day off. Then told him to gear up for some doubles and some triples The crazies had been relatively quiet for a couple weeks, but things were starting to pick up.

"Donnie?" she asked, her voice sleepy.

"Shh." he said. "Go back to sleep, baby."

Her eyes flickered open. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Almost two thirty."

"In the morning?"

He grinned. "No sleeping beauty, in the afternoon."

"Smart ass. You just got in?"

"Half an hour ago."

"You brought me in here?"

"I did."

"Thank you."

He climbed into bed beside her. "You're welcome." he said and kissed her softly.

"I'm sorry." she said. "About earlier."

"Let's not talk about that right now."

"I overreacted on you. I'm sorry."

"Samantha, it's okay. I understand how you feel. But it's really late and you need sleep."

"I've decided that after the blood work, I'm not going for any other tests." she told him.

"Samantha..."

"I don't want anything happening to the baby. I know you're worried about that. And I love you and I can't loose either of you. I'm just scared."

"So am I." Flack admitted.

She moved closer to him, burying her face in his neck.

"I love you." he said.

"I love you, too. I don't want us to fight anymore."

"Neither do I. You know, Mac gave me the best advice earlier. Three pieces of it."

"Yeah? What were they?"

"Never go to bed angry and always tell each other you love one another."

"He's a wise man. What's the third?"

"Making up is the best part."

Samantha smiled and moved away from him and pushed him onto his back. She climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply. "You know what I think?" she asked, reaching for the waist of his boxers.

"What?"

"I think that's the best advice I've ever heard."

**Thanks to everyone R and R'ing. Much appreciated. Keep it up. And to all your lurkers out there, please take the time to review!!**


	56. Wake up call

**WARNING THIS IS RATED M FOR THE BEGINNING WHICH IS DEDICATED TO MY THREE SMUT LOVERS. YOU GUYS KNOW WHO YOU ARE.**

Wake up call

"When you're standing at the crossroads  
and don't know which path to choose  
let me come along  
'cause even if you're wrong...  
I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you  
take me, into your darkest hour  
and I'll never desert you  
I'll stand by you."  
-I'll Stand by You, The Pretenders

* * *

Quarter to six in the morning. Sunlight was just beginning to peek through the blinds covering the window and a cool, refreshing breeze was trickling through the cracked open window. Flack's eyes snapped open at the feel of something tickling his back and his stomach. He'd always been a light sleeper. The smallest noise or movement had him up in an instant. Whereas Sam could sleep through a massive earthquake or a tornado despite keeping you up all night with her sleep chattering. And then she had the nerve to wonder why you were so tired when you sleep so good and so long. One day, he was going to tape record her just so she'd know what he was dealing with.

This morning however, with the dawn breaking on the horizon and the clock radio advertising the time, she was apparently awake before the alarm had a chance to do the deed for her. Because a glance down at his stomach to see her fingertips grazing along his stomach, and a look over his shoulder to find her kissing his back, told him that she had a wake up call of her own in mind. He opened his mouth to say something along the lines of how early it was, but he quickly shut it when she bit his shoulder lightly and moved her lips to the back of his neck. And her hand slid even lower, her fingers tickling along the waistband of his boxers. Usually he was the one who woke up every morning, desperate for her, today, she'd obviously beaten him to it. Her fingers and lips and tongue working him quickly and easily to an aching erection.

"Samantha...you..."

He was going to say 'you better stop that with your hand or this will be over sooner than it started' but the words got lost somewhere as she grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him over onto his back.

"Good morning." she said in a near whisper, a soft, mischievous smile on her naturally beautiful face, and straddled him, a knee on either side of his torso.

"I hope it is." he said in return.

"Oh it will be." she assured him and began kissing and licking at his ear and his neck, fingertips drifting along shoulders and collarbone, then down onto his chest, sending electric shocks through his body when her nails scraped over his nipples. "It will be a very, very good morning for you." she said, as her lips travelled a blazing hot trail all the way from his lips to his navel, sliding her body down his as she went. "You never let me down in the morning." she teased, and bent down to kiss his rock hard cock through his boxers.

"Son-of-a-bitch." he muttered at feel of her lips fabric on his aching erection. Tangling his hands in her hair as she slid down him to yank off his boxers.

She took his cock in her warm, soft hand and teased the tip with her tongue. Specifically the spot of her tongue that boasted the piercing. That alone was enough to drive him insane. He certainly did not regret shelling out the money for that. It was the best sixty bucks he ever spent seeing as he reaped the benefits of it. And they were damn good benefits. A minute or two of feeling that piercing grazing the tip of his cock had him squirming and writhing and babbling incoherently beneath her. At her total mercy.

"Just suck it all ready." he demanded, only to have her lightly bite the side of his cock. A mixture of pleasure and pain shooting through his trembling body. "You fucking bitch!" he nearly shouted at her and sat up.

"Hey!" she roughly pushed him back down by his shoulders. "Unless you want blue balls, buddy, I suggest you don't boss me around. Got it?"

"I love it when you try and get all aggressive and assertive and cop on me." Flack said, tossing the words she so often used on him at her.

"Careful or I will cuff you to the bed." she warned.

"Please do." he said, then moaned when she returned to her previous activities, obliging him by taking him fully into her mouth this time. Alternating between deep and shallow movements that had him roughly yanking on her hair and within minutes, dangerously close to coming. His eyes were closed, every muscle in his body completely tense. So into it that he didn't even realize at first she stopped.

Until she was climbing on top of him and apbrutly dropping herself down onto him in one swift movement that nearly knocked the wind right out of him. That actually was painful.

"Fuck, Samantha!" he bellowed, both out of surprise and because the sudden sensation of being buried inside of her nearly caused him to come just like that.

She clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shhh...you'll wake the neighbours." she said with a mischievous grin on her face.

He yanked her hand off his mouth and grabbed her hips with both hands. "I'm not the one who makes all the fucking noise." he reminded her. "Now are you going to do anything or just sit there?"

"Maybe I'll just sit here and make you suffer and beg." she said.

He tightened the grip on her hips and held her in place as he thrust hard up into her. Listening to her cry out from the pleasure and sensation of it.

"Maybe," she said, grabbing his hands off her hips and forcing his arms above his head, pinning his wrists to the bed. "I like being the dominant one. In charge for a change."

"I don't think so." he said with a snicker and quickly, yet gently flipped her over onto her side. Pulling her hair firmly, he tilted her head back towards him and bit the side of her neck gently. "Why do you have to be such a dirty little girl sometimes?" he asked, then thrust into her from behind. Hearing her loud gasp.

He reached around her to fondle her breasts with one hand, teasing her nipples with his fingertips, his other hand squeezing her ass hard enough to leave bruises. She grabbed the hand that was on her breast and moved it farther south, wanting him to play with her clit. Who was he to refuse a lady what she wanted? And needed? He stroked her clit quickly and firmly, kneading her ass with the other hand and sucking and biting at the back of her neck as he thrust into her, deep and fast. Moved his lips to her ear to tell her he was close. Very close. He hated the whole rushing thing. He usually liked to take his time, please her as much as possible, but a wake up call like she'd given him had made that nearly impossible.

She was already right on that door step. She reached behind them to grab his ass and pull him deeper inside of her, her nails digging into the skin as she called out his name as she climaxed. Her head tilted back against his shoulder, her entire body shuddering against him. Her legs closed tightly around his one hand as he tightened the grip on her ass with the other, pounding into her until she felt his lips clamp down on the back of her neck, his teeth lightly grazing her skin. She felt his movements stop and his body tense and then felt him come, trembling against her, his hot semen bathing her womb.

They lay there for an indiscernible amount of time. It felt as if time actually stood still. Their eyes closed and their hearts pounding, panting noisily. He kissed her cheek, her temple, the back of her head. Then pulled out of her slowly and rolled over onto his back.

"Shit." was all he could manage through his harsh breathing.

She rolled onto her side to face him and kissed his shoulder.

He laid his hand on the back of her head. "You're amazing." he said. "Every time with you is amazing."

"You're okay, too." she told him.

"Okay?" he snorted. "A minute ago you were calling me God."

She giggled. "I told you this would be a good morning." she said.

He grinned. "A hell of a good morning." he agreed.

* * *

At noon hour, Speed and Danny found themselves in the break room, attempting to eat lunch despite the mountain of work staring them in the face. Case folders and reports spread across every inch of available surface. They both looked up as Samantha came breezing into the room, her sleek black dress pants and emerald green top accentuating the small, yet obvious bump she was sporting these days.

"Look at you, Miss Ross." Danny commented. "Looking more like a mommy every day."

Sam went to the fridge and pulled out a plastic container and small paper bag, both with her name scrawled on it, then stepped over to the microwave and popped the top on the lid of the container before setting inside to warm it up.

"Don't even think about touching my belly, Messer. You touch it and I'll knee you in the balls so hard all your kids and grand kids will be born dizzy. Or with one nut."

Speed nearly choked on his food he started laughing so hard.

"Bet you let Flack touch it." Danny said.

"He's allowed. It's his fault its there."

"When it's bigger, when you're really showing, I want to touch it." Danny told her.

"Dude," Speed said and sipped bottled water. "That is such a girl thing."

"I just wanna see what it feels like. Why women are so drawn to a pregnant stomach. See what the big deal is."

"Please don't tell me you're one of those weirdos who get off on pregnant women." Speed said with a grimace.

"I just think it would be neat to see what..."

"Especially when said pregnant woman is your best friend's soon to be wife." Speed added.

"I just thought it would be need, okay?" Danny defended himself. "You know, feel the baby move around and all that. Don't make it out to be some sick, twisted thing. That's my god son or daughter in there. Not like anyone has asked me yet." he stared at Sam pointedly.

"Hey, that's up to Don." she said. "He's suppose to ask. Take it up with him. I already did my part by asking Carmen to be the god mother. She was ecstatic."

"She still cries when she talks about it." Speed said. "It's a huge deal to her. She's honored. You know that."

"I know." Sam agreed. "And there was never a doubt in my mind it would be her."

She brought her food to the table to join them. Unpacking a carton of chocolate milk, an orange and Oreo cookies and a fork from the bag.

"How many meals is this?" Speed asked.

"My second. But I've had about five snacks since breakfast. Every time I turn around, someone is pushing fruit or some candy in my direction."

"Smells good." Danny commented. "Where'd you get that?"

"Home. Penne noddles, Alfredo sauce and pieces of sliced grilled chicken thrown in."

"And you brought this from home?" Danny asked.

Sam nodded and sipped her milk. "Don got up this morning and made it for me before I left."

Danny dropped his sandwich. "Come again? He what with the what?"

"He is so goddamn whipped." Speed complained

"He wants me to eat healthy so he cooks for me when he has time." Sam said. "No big deal."

"And I have to eat food from a vending machine?" Danny shook his head in disgust. "That's it. I am switching teams and marrying Flack myself."

"He does dishes, laundry and cleans the toilet, too." Sam added.

"And what do you do?" Speed asked.

"I sit around and look cute. And boss him around."

"I bet." Speed said.

"Seriously," Danny said. "I'm telling the truth. I am marring Flack or at least living with him."

"Always knew you had a hard on for him." Sam commented teasingly.

Speed laughed again. "You are the female Flack you know that? Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Sure. The male Flack tells me that every day."

"You're sick." Danny declared. "You are a sick, demented woman, Brooklyn. Be nice or Flack and I won't let you join in."

"He's all yours, Danny." Sam said. "I have used him and abused him all ready."

"So how goes it in the barren waste land known as trace?" Danny asked her. "Home of the forsaken?"

Sam rolled her eyes and chewed on some pasta.

"You mean when she's not screwing the place up?" Speed asked.

"I do not screw it up." Sam argued.

"You do. What do you call putting slides with swabs? Every time I go in there after you've worked in there, you've moved the gloves, changed the desk top on the computer, and you've got the swabs in with the slides."

"I only put the gloves where I can reach them." Sam told him. "Anything over five feet, I don't see and I can barely reach."

"Swabs and slides do not go together." Speed informed her.

"Says who? Is that a written rule?"

"It's a Speedle rule." he concluded.

"Well excuse me for not being as anal as you." Sam snorted.

"Thought you liked things like that." Speed teased. "Or so Flack says."

Sam smirked and flipped him the middle finger. "So what are you guys working on?"

"Bradley Sullivan's pre-lim is next week." Danny told her. "We're trying to get prepared. You didn't get called?"

"I was excused because of my delicate condition. That was the judge's exact words. The defensive put forth the motion it was too stressful for me, as a pregnant woman, to be going through a trial. Personally, I think they did it so they wouldn't have a ballistics expert testifying. They were sympathetic to my needs, they said. My needs? What is that? Don has to testify though. Because he was with me when I found the gun."

"Defense is gonna jump all over his testimony." Speed said with a sigh. "Because of your guys' relationship. Conflict of interest."

"That's what he said, too." Sam said. "But he's not too concerned. Did you guys hear about Pino?"

"Christ," Danny moaned. "Whose he sleeping with now?"

"He's moving to L.A. to become a plastic surgeon."

"Get outta town." Speed said.

"He told me this morning. I saw him when I came in. Apparently he is going to specialise in nose and boob jobs."

"Why am I not surprised?" Danny asked. "Right up his alley."

"He told me that if I was ever in L.A. and I was in the market, he'd hook me up with a new set at a killer discount."

Speed frowned. "You really think you're hurting in that department?"

"I don't know. You tell me." she stood up and tightened her shirt around her chest. "What do you think?" she asked.

"Jesus Christ." Speed complained. "Do you have to?"

"I think they're perfect." Danny said. "Don't change a thing."

Sam returned to her seat. "They'll get bigger when I get further along and produce milk."

"I am trying to eat." Speed told her.

"It's a natural thing, Tim. The most natural thing in the world."

"I find it fascinating myself." Danny said.

"You would." Speed told him. "You're a perv."

"I didn't mean in a sexual way." Danny argued.

"Sure, Messer." Speed said. "Sure."

Sam's cell phone beeped noisily and she checked the display. An incoming text message coming through. Her face went white as she read it. "Ahh shit." she cursed loudly.

"What's wrong?" Speed asked. "You okay?"

"No. My parents are here. I knew they were coming down, but I didn't expect them to come here. Of all places. In public."

She finished the majority of her lunch quickly, and left the orange for later but grabbed the milk and cookies as she got up.

"Want some back up?" Speed asked.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I'll be okay." Sam replied.

"You need anything, you call us." Speed instructed. "All right?"

"Thanks, Tim." she said and gave him a small wink and left the room.

"Maybe we should head that way." Danny said. "Just in case."

Speed nodded. "I think that's a good idea."

* * *

Sarge and her mother, Lynne, were waiting down by the reception desk across from the elevators. While Sarge was tall and big, Lynne was petite and slender, with slightly greying dark hair that skimmed the tops of her shoulders in thick, luxurious waves and the same sparkling turquoise eyes that she had passed down to Adam. She had passed onto her daughter the petite, delicate nose and ears and chin, the same lightweight frame. And the freckles. The rest of Sam from the rod straight hair to the golden eyes was all from her birth father. Along with a lot of his personality. Minus the sick, twisted abuser part.

Her mother's arms were around her before she had a chance to say hello. There was something about a mother's hug that seemed to be able to make everything seem better. That hug had been absent for most of her early life, and as she got older and became her own person and made her own life, she never really gave her mother much of a chance to work her way back into her life. There'd been so much anger and blame on Sam's part. Never understanding why her mom had made her and Adam suffer like they had, when all she had to do was pack up and leave. She understood now, after years on the job, that leaving was easier said than done. Fear was a powerful thing.

Their relationship got better the moment the problems with Zack started. Her mother had been there from the very beginning. Never judging or condescending. There with a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on. And that hug that Sam now relished, her arms around the one woman that was always there even though they may be thousands of miles apart.

"Look at you, sweetie," Lynne gushed, holding her daughter's face gently in her hands. "You cut and dyed your hair. It looks beautiful. And you're glowing. You've never been more gorgeous. And it's hard to top what you normally look like. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, mommy."

"But you're happy here, in New York?"

"I've never been happier in all my life."

Sarge snorted.

Lynne held her daughter out at arm's length. Checking her over. "You're even showing a little all ready!" she gushed. "You make a lovely mommy to be. Are you eating right? Taking all your vitamins?"

"I am my own walking pill factory, mom. And I am eating a lot. Just not always the right things."

"Are you feeling better? How's the baby? You haven't had any more scares with the bleeding and cramping?"

"I've been taking it easy. Avoiding stress as much as I can in this job. But Mac decided to put me in the lab full time now instead of later."

"Good." Lynne said with a stern nod. "Best you stay off the street and be here. Where Adam can keep an eye on you. He's been worried sick. We all have."

"Well I've been doing good." Sam assured her. "Both of us have been doing good." she corrected herself, touching her stomach softly.

"Now let me see this ring. Adam just went on and on about it."

Sam held out her left hand and her mother clasped it tightly and leaned in to get a good look.

Lynne let out a slight gasp. "Stunning." she said. "Just like you. You must be so happy with it."

"I would have been happy with a lot less, too." Sam told her. "As long as it came from him."

"Looks like a gumball ring to me." Sarge scoffed.

Lynne slapped him on the arm and gave him a cold glare. "Ignore him." she said to her daughter. "He's been a miserable bastard since he found out the news."

"With good reason." Sarge grumbled.

Sam sighed and stepped forward to give him a tight hug. "Hi, dad." she said, her heart sinking and emotion choking her when he did little more than give her a slight squeeze with one arm.

"So where is this nice young man?" Lynne asked. "The way Adam described him, he sounds like quite the looker. Is he here? Can I meet him?"

"He actually works downstairs." Sam replied. "In the precinct down there. But he's not here today. He's off. Maybe we can all go out to dinner or you guys can come over and we can order in and you can get to know him. You'll really like him, mom. He's a great guy."

"We are going out to dinner." Sarge gruffly informed her. "Tonight. Seven o'clock. At the restaurant in the Marriott. It's where we're staying for a couple of days."

"I'd have to call Don." Sam said. "In case he had something planned for us or if he's going somewhere."

"I meant me, you and your mother." Sarge told her. "To discuss things."

"I'm not discussing anything with you, dad. Not alone anyway. Don and I are a couple. We're having a baby. We're getting married. If you want me there, then he comes too. Plain and simple."

"Fine." Sarge huffed. "But don't expect me to be nice."

"Civil would be all right though." Sam shot back and stepped away to make her phone call.

* * *

The voice was groggy and not so pleasant on the receiving end of the call.

"Flack...and this better be damn good."

"It's me." Sam said in response.

"You just interrupted my me, you and Jennifer Aniston dream." he informed her.

"Oh I'm sorry. Kind of like when you so rudely interrupt my me, you and David Beckham dream?"

"I can so put that loser to shame." he declared confidently. "What time is it?"

"Shortly after one. I'm sorry I woke you up. Let me guess, you were having one of the best sleeps you've had in a long time."

"I was." he said with a sigh.

"Sorry. I just wanted to call you and give you the heads up."

"About?"

"We have dinner plans." she told him. "Seven o'clock. At the Marriott. So wear a suit and tie."

"Come on. It's my day off. At least let me wear jeans and t-shirt. And a baseball hat and those Adidas sandals you hate so much."

"Uh...no."

"Does this mean I actually have to get out of bed and shower and shave?"

"Yes. And I need you to bring me something to wear. Maybe that dress you bought me at that maternity place yesterday. And my expensive shoes."

"I can do that." Flack agreed. "Who are we going out to dinner with?"

"Guess."

"Carmen and Speed?" he offered.

"Nope."

"Danny and Erica?" he tried.

"Nope."

"Mac and Stella?"

"Sorry."

"I give. Who?"

"My parents."

"What? Why?" he exclaimed.

"They showed up here. They're here right now. And my dad wanted me to go alone and I said I wasn't going anywhere without you."

"Good girl. Is he pissed?"

"Well, he's not happy. You love me. Like you've never loved any one else, right?"

"Absolutely." he answered without hesitation.

"I love you, Don. And I need you to do this for me. Play nice for a while with him. Please, Don."

He sighed. "I'll be at the lab at quarter after six with your stuff. You owe me. Big time."

"I'll make it up to you." she vowed.

"Yeah, you will. More of this morning. Only longer."

She grinned and felt her cheeks flush at the very thought of their early morning activities. She turned her back to her parents so they wouldn't have to hear anything she was about to say. Her mother, God love her, was notorious for eaves dropping.

"I still can't feel my toes a hundred percent." she said into the phone.

"Yeah? Well tonight I'll put you in a coma." he declared.

"Promises, promises. Thank you. For being such a good sport. I love you."

"I love you, too. Now can I go back to sleep?"

"Back to Jennifer you mean?"

"Come on, you know you play the leading role in that fantasy."

"Sure I do. Pervert."

"You love me. Always remember that. I'll see you later."

"See you." she said and hung up. They never said goodbye. Goodbye just seemed to permanent. And neither of them had any plans on going anywhere. She clipped her phone back onto her pants pocket and rejoined her parents.

* * *

"What was that all about?" Sarge asked.

"I just needed to call Don and let him know about tonight. I can't just make plans without telling him. And I woke him up. He was sleeping."

Sarge frowned. "It's damn near one thirty. Lazy bastard, huh?"

"Dad!" Sam snapped and raised her hand for him to not start with her. "He's worked almost a hundred and seventy hours in two weeks. He's tired. He needs sleep."

"Making excuses for him now?"

"And he needs to rest because he nearly died two years ago and he's still in a lot of pain and he hasn't recuperated properly."

"He nearly died? How? Or is that just something you've blown out of proportion?"

"Nice dad. He was caught in a building explosion."

Lynne laid a hand over her mouth. "Dear God." she said in horror.

"And how did that happen?" Sarge asked.

"Someone put a bomb at a crime scene he was working. He was helping clear people out when the bomb detonated. He was gravely injured. He almost died. He spent months in the hospital and had all kinds of re-hab and physio. So just back off. Okay dad? He's still in a lot of pain and he's trying to deal with that and work all kinds of crazy hours and make sure that me and the baby are okay. He's trying. He is really, really trying, dad. So please just leave him alone."

Sarge smirked. "So he's the all American hero, huh?"

"Dad!" Sam shouted. "Enough! Leave Don alone. He's a good man. Give him a chance."

"I gave Zack a chance and look how that ended."

"He's not Zack. He is nothing like Zack and if you gave him a chance you'd realize that."

"Sam!" Speed called from down the hall, standing in the doorway to the trace lab and waving for her to join him.

"We're talking here!" Sarge shot back.

"Well excuse me for thinking evidence in a triple homicide takes precedence over your petty bullshit." Speed retaliated.

"I have to go." Sam said to her parents. "The team needs me to get some things done. This is an important case. Don and I will meet you guys at seven." she turned to hug her mother tightly. "It's so good to see you, mommy. I missed you. I really needed you here these last couple of days."

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"We got some bad news about the baby yesterday and...you know what? We'll talk about this later, okay?"

"Okay...are you all right? How bad is bad?" she held her daughter at arm's length.

"Later, mom. Okay? I'm fine. I'm dealing with it."

"Samantha..."

"I'm fine." Sam assured her and wiped away a stray tear. She'd been pretending for two days that she wasn't scared or worried about the out come of future tests, and truth be told, she had never been so scared of anything in her entire life.

Lynne touched her daughter's face softly and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Sam went to her father and hugged him. "I'm sorry you can't accept this daddy." she said.

"You're right." he told her, not returning the hug. "I can't."

"Well," Sam said with a sigh as she drew away from him. "That's unfortunate. I have to go."

"Samantha..." he called after her as she headed down the hall.

"Daddy, I have to go. Please? Please just give him a chance?"

"I can't." he said firmly.

She nodded slowly. "If you love me, daddy," she said as she walked away with tears in her eyes. "you would."

**Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing. Welcome to all the newcomers! The more the merrier! And lurkers, please leave even the smallest review. I'd really appreciate that.**


	57. Guess whose coming to dinner

**Guess whose coming to dinner**

"Tell me why there's so many good men  
and the world's misunderstood  
He's a dog, he's no good  
I wish somebody would  
disrespect my man  
You're gonna have to come see me  
I go hard for my baby  
he's all that I need."  
-A.N.G.E.L, Natasha Bedingfield

**Thanks to my music maven Mauveine for yet another great song.**

* * *

She looked beautiful. The simple royal blue wrap dress highlighted her fair, flawless complexion and made her eyes even more vibrant. It also clung to her like a second skin, highlighting her fabulous curves and womanly body, including that small yet visible baby bump that seemed to get bigger each and every day now. He always thought that those things took more time to come about. She wasn't that far along and neither of them were expecting anything to be noticeable for another month and a bit. Five months, according to the books, was the norm for a mother to begin showing. But there it was. And there was no denying what it was or how it had got there. He couldn't keep that stupid, proud as hell grin off of his face every time he looked at it or thought about that being his baby in there. That he had helped create something so amazing and magical and was fortunate enough to be going along for the ride of his life for the next eighteen plus years.

"You keep staring at me." Sam commented self-consciously as he parked the SUV and killed the ignition.

"I'm not allowed to stare at you?" he asked, reaching out to brush a strand of stray hair behind her ear.

"Makes me nervous." she replied, unbuckling her seat belt.

"Not like I'm some nut job on the street checking out your goods. And besides, I wouldn't call it staring, it's more like admiring."

She smiled and reached sideways to tighten and straighten his tie. "Thank you." she said. "For doing this for me. I know it's hard for you considering you and my dad aren't exactly on the same page with things."

"Your dad and I aren't even on the same planet." Flack said with a heavy sigh. "But if this will get him off our backs by him seeing we're serious about the baby and getting married, then going to dinner with the guy is the least I can do. I mean, he's gonna be my father in law in three months. He's my kid's grandfather. Not like I can avoid him forever."

"Just be thankful they live so far away and we won't be expected to visit a lot."

"What's his issue with me? Why's he hate me so bad? I'm not a bad guy. I don't treat you like shit or beat the crap out of you. I work hard and try my best to take care of you and make sure you and the baby are okay. What's his problem?"

"It's not personal, Don. Really. It's not. He just has a thing against cops since the whole Zack thing. And he also is majorly opinionated when it comes to certain things. And having babies before marriage is one of those things."

"Never rubbed off on you obviously." Flack teased her, nodding down at her stomach.

"Same way your parents' no sex before marriage talk worked on you? 'Cause judging by the things you do, you've had a lot of sex before marriage."

He grinned broadly. "I can never get one up on you, baby. You always have a come back of some kind."

"I keep you on your toes, Don. It's what you love most about me."

"I can think of a few other things before that." he said and kissed her long and soft.

"As much as I'd love to say let's just go home..."

"I would not argue one bit."

"We really have to get inside."

He frowned. "You do love torturing me."

She smiled and held his chin in her hand and kissed him. "Just the pleasurable kind." she said.

"That's the best kind of all." he told her and kissed her once more. "I guess we should go do this." he sighed.

"Sooner we start, sooner it's over." she pointed out.

"You're always so optimistic." he said and slipped out of the SUV and shut his door and pocketed his keys. He went around to the passenger's side and opened her door and helped her out.

"Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this relationship." she commented.

"True. I leave the politeness and niceties to you." he closed her door and laid a hand on the small of her back. "You look amazingly beautiful and I love you." he said and kissed her gently. "And I would not put myself through this pain for anyone else."

She grinned. "You started that sentence out so well, Flack. Then your mouth took over your brain."

"Thought you liked it when my mouth took over." he teased her, taking her hand to lead her through the parking lot towards the entrance to the hotel.

"You do have a very talented mouth." she agreed.

"I'll remember that later when I'm putting it to good use." he grinned and backed up to avoid an elbow to his stomach. "Is it wrong that I am this nervous?" he asked her, dropping his hand off her back in favor of taking her hand. "I mean, I sit across interrogation tables from murderers and child molesters and gang bangers and your basic run of the mill scum of the earth yet I don't break a sweat. But the thought of being around your parents scares the crap out of me."

"My mother is a gem. You'll really like her. When she came by the lab she was all excited hoping she'd meet you right then and there. She was so disappointed when I told her you weren't there. She's not the one you have to worry about."

"Only your ex-soldier daddy with his gun collection who wants to disembowel me the first chance he gets." Flack said dryly, yanking open one of the doors leading into the main lobby of the hotel.

"I don't think it's your insides he's interested in ripping apart." Sam commented light heartedly.

He frowned. "Is that suppose to make me feel better? Knowing your father wants to chop my dick off 'cause I corrupted and tarnished his precious angel of a daughter?"

"Please. If he knew half the stuff I did by the time I was eighteen, he would have bound and gagged me and locked me in the basement for the rest of my life. He has this image of me and he's just pissed I put a dent in it. It's not personal, Don. It's nothing against you. It's against any guy in general that upsets that image."

"I'm a decent guy, Sam. I may come on strong to people and I know I'm a bit of a hot head and my sarcasm is a bit hard to take sometime, but you know me. Really know me. More than anyone else. And you know that I'm a good guy."

"I know that you're an amazing guy and that you have faults just like everyone else. And if you didn't, you'd be so damn boring."

"Boring I ain't." he said.

"My life was boring until I met you. When you came along, so many things changed. I changed. And my dad will see that. I promise."

They paused at the entrance to the restaurant and he leaned down to kiss her softly. "I think we've both changed." he said.

She smiled. "I think we both needed to. And that we helped each other."

He returned that innocent, sparkling smile with a boyish one of his own and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "If I don't make it out of this alive, my will is in a safety deposit box in the bedroom closet. And you're the executor. Just so you know."

"I promise I will process the scene thoroughly." she teased. "Every thing's going to be fine." she promised.

As they made their way into that restaurant, he hoped she was right.

* * *

Things started out well. For the most part. From the moment that they joined her parents at a cozy, candlelit table for four in the elegant, busy restaurant, Lynne talked constantly with her soon to be son in law. She asked about his job and how and where he grew up, listening intently and with interest at every little detail. She asked about likes and dislikes and other simpler things. Were you ever married before? Any other kids? The basic getting to know someone, feeling them out kind of thing.

Personally, Lynne didn't understand what her husband's issue was with this young man sitting across from them. As far as she was concerned, Clint was being way too harsh and unreasonable on both of them. Don Flack was well spoken and thoughtful and looked at her daughter with the utmost pride and love in his eyes. And vice versa. She could see how much her daughter cared with this man. So much more than Samantha ever displayed for Zack.

Talk turned to the baby. Lynne had been worrying since that afternoon when Samantha had mentioned there was a problem with the pregnancy. And when she brought it up now, she saw the worry and hint of sadness in both of their eyes.

"My triple screen test showed that the baby has a higher chance of having a genetic or a chromosomal error." Sam explained, picking at her appetizer of chicken Caesar salad.

"So what exactly are the doctor's concerned about?" Lynne asked, sipping red wine thoughtfully.

"The most common things are Spina Bifida on the genetic side and Down Syndrome on the other." Sam replied.

"Genetic?" Sarge frowned. "That's gotta come from someone. There's nothing genetic as far as I know on either the Ross side or your mother's."

"It could be possible way down the line." Lynne said. "But there's nothing I know of."

"Don has two cousins with Spina Bifida." Sam told them. "So we knew going into having a baby that there was a chance it would skip other members of his family and come to us. But it's no big deal. They're both in their late teens and doing exceptionally well."

"Having a baby with someone you know has this kind of thing in their family?" Sarge snorted. "Couldn't you find someone with a normal family?"

"Oh I'm sorry, dad." Sam shot back. "I should have asked him before we slept together if he had a normal family or not. I don't care about stuff like that. These things can happen to anyone. People have babies with Spina Bifida all the time and they don't even have it in their family. It's a neural tube defect that occurs during fetal development. And it can be caused by maternal factors, like the meds I was one after the attack. I didn't know then that I was even pregnant and I was on some heavy duty stuff. So if that's what it is that's wrong, there's no use playing the blame game. I don't blame Don and he doesn't blame me."

"And Down Syndrome." Sarge said, looking at Flack. "You got that in your family, too? 'Cause we sure as hell don't."

"Well if you knew anything about it, you'd know that that's something that happens right at conception." Flack informed him. "An error that occurs right at the start. No one passes it along. Unless it's a case of translocation and that's only two percent of the population and too long winded to get into. So right at conception, someone kicked in an extra twenty-first chromosome. No scientific way of telling who either. So if the kid has it, you can't blame anyone for it."

"And if that's what it is are you two still having it?" Sarge asked.

"We're having it regardless of what's wrong." Flack replied.

"Your decision or hers?" Sarge inquired.

"Both of ours." Sam said. "We made the decision together."

"It's a tough haul. Raising a mongoloid."

"Dad!" Sam hissed at him. "Don't use that word! I know way back when it was acceptable, but you don't use that anymore. Okay? Please don't use it."

"Gonna raise it at home or send it away?"

"Jesus!" Sam wanted to reach across the table and belt him one. "Are you stuck in the 1950s? These kids do better when they are raised at home and allowed to be in the general public and attend school with all the regular kids. It's called early intervention and integration. And whatever the problem is, if there is one, Don and I are raising this child at home like he or she deserves."

"Personally," Lynne said. "As much as I pray there isn't anything wrong, I want you two to know that if this is the case, it's still my grandchild and I'll love it and accept it no matter what. It's not the end of the world. It's still a baby and you two still achieved the miracle of life. Everything will work out. You'll see. Have you made any plans? Bought anything? I've all ready started to knit a blanket. White, yellow and green so you can use it for a boy or a girl."

"My mom loves to knit." Sam told Flack. "She's actually won awards for some of her things. It's her passion. She even knits hats and booties and mittens for the tiny preemies at the local hospital."

"And don't forget the dogs." Lynne reminded her.

"And she made blankets and sweaters and sent them to New Orleans to help keep the displaced pets from Katrina warm. If it has to do with babies or animals, she's on it."

"Samantha was always good with animals." Lynne recalled fondly. "They always seemed to like her. Until the day she shot the squirrel in the back yard."

"Mom! You're still going on about that!" Sam exclaimed.

"It was a very traumatic time for your brother when he witnessed that."

"I didn't mean to shoot the damn squirrel!" she insisted.

"Sure you didn't." Flack teased. "Keep telling yourself that and one day, you might actually convince yourself of it."

"You be quiet." Sam laughed. "You're always picking on me for being a squirrel serial killer."

"I'm not sure you should even be left alone with any animal." he joked.

"You're mean!" she said.

"You know I love you." he told her and smiled and winked.

She smiled as well and leaned into him and he kissed the side of her head lightly.

Lynne smiled also. She was pleased at how happy they seemed. How in love they were. Her daughter deserved to be happy after the turmoil with Zack. And Don Flack seemed good for her. He was intelligent and hard working and extremely respectful to her. And their child. And he seemed to adore her. It was in his eyes when he looked at her. She saw the soft, tender way that he smiled at her and touched her back of her hand or her hair. It also didn't hurt that he was tall, obviously well built and devastatingly handsome with the most lovely blue eyes she'd ever seen. Her grandchild, boy or girl, was going to be a knock out.

* * *

"So have you made any plans?" Lynne asked again, after a period of comfortable silence and the waitress had come to take their orders and offer more drinks. "Bought anything for the baby?"

"We're moving into a two bedroom apartment at the end of the month." Sam replied, sipping a glass of ice water. "Well, Carmen and I are moving in and then Don moves in at the end of October."

"That's convenient." Sarge commented dryly. "Two women under the same roof. You can have your pick. Someone to spend your time with my daughter isn't around."

Flack smirked. "You figured me out, Clint. That's exactly my plan. To have a wife and a girlfriend. I mean, what more could a guy like me want?"

Sam lightly squeezed his thigh under the table in hopes of calming him down. Two offhanded, pissed off men at one table was a volatile situation. And as much as Sarge believed he was the king of sarcasm and dominating other people came easily to him, he had met his match in Flack. She knew for a fact that he'd beat Sarge hands down at the assertive, aggressive and down right mean game.

"Carmen's moving in with her soon to be fiance in the new year." Sam explained. "So when she leaves, we'll have a bedroom just for the baby. But we haven't talked about things like decorating a nursery and we haven't personally bought anything. We'll give it a couple months and then worry about a crib and a stroller and car seat and everything else we'll need. Mind you, people we work with have been giving us tons of clothes and toys. And Carmen, as godmother, has made it her personal mission to spoil the kid rotten all ready."

"And my buddy Danny, he's the godfather and he went and got this tiny Giants jersey and somehow got it signed by Eli Manning the quarterback." Flack added. "Danny's a massive Giants fan so he's determined to make the baby his football buddy."

"And what kind of credentials to these people have to be god parents?" asked Sarge.

"We didn't exactly ask to see their resumes or ask for references." Flack replied.

"We picked them because they're great friends to us." Sam said. "Danny and Don have been best friends and have worked together for years. And we know we can count on him and Carmen to be there."

"And this Giants thing." Sarge said. "Kid can't be a Giants fan being raised in Arizona. Gotta be a Cardinals fan."

"Come again?" Flack asked. "Who said anything about raising him in Arizona?"

"Can't raise him here in this God foresaken place." Sarge replied. "All the drugs and violence. Can't walk two feet without someone pulling a gun on you or wanting to rob you."

"And this has happened to you numerous times in the past six hours?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"You know what this city is like. You work here. Why have a kid in a place like this?"

"We live here, dad. We like it. We have great friends and jobs we enjoy. Don's climbing the ladder in the NYPD pretty quickly and if he was to go to another city to work, he'd be stuck at the bottom all over again. And for less money. Not to mention he'd hate it there. He's a New York City boy born and raised. He doesn't want to leave."

"For one," Sarge said. "Men make sacrifices too. And two, I was talking about you and the baby moving there."

"Dad, you're mental. You really are. How many times do I have to say it? Don and I are getting married. We're becoming a family. And we're raising this baby together, here in New York."

"And if you think I'd let Samantha just take off and raise my kid thousands of miles away, you're seriously demented." Flack added.

"No one is stopping you from attending the birth or visiting on weekends." Sarge informed him.

Sam nearly choked on her ice water.

"You are seriously fucking demented." Flack declared. "Are you listening to yourself? You're the grandfather. That's it. You have no say in how or where we raised our kid. We. Because it'll be a cold day in hell when you take my wife and my kid thousands of miles away."

"Don..." Sam rubbed his back. "Please just calm down a bit."

"Grandparents have rights you know." Sarge shot back.

"Biological father's rights trump whatever you think you'd have up on me." Flack told him. "And I don't care how much money you have or how many people you know. You wanna push it, take it to court and I'll have it tied up with so much red tape for the next eighteen years you'll either be dead or the kid will be old enough to make his own decision. So try it. Go ahead and hire a fancy lawyer. Subpoena me. I've got enough connections of my own that if you're hiding the smallest secret, they'll find it all out and I'll bury you with them."

"Don't threaten me." Sarge growled.

"It's not a threat. It's just the truth. I don't play games, Clint. Waste of my time. I tell things the way they are. No bullshit. So you want to fuck with me, go ahead and let's see what you got and how far you get. You think you can just come here and threaten me? Threaten to take my wife and my kid to bum fuck country?"

Sam had her elbow on the table, a hand to her forehead. "Don...please...just calm down."

"She's not your wife yet." Sarge reminded him. "And if I have my way, she never will be. Taking advantage of her when she's at a weak point in her life?"

"Yeah. That's it, Clint. I took advantage of her. Raped her, held her against her will, keep her too scared to leave. You've got me bang on old man."

"Please, Don." Sam was nearly begging. "Stop."

"You think it's okay he's like this?" Flack asked incredulously.

"No. It's not that..."

Sarge fought back. "If you think some dim wit, two bit New York City cop is going to push me around..."

"Stop!" Sam cried. "Both of you just stop!"

"This isn't solving anything!" Lynne snapped at her husband. "Stop giving them such a hard time. He loves her. She loves him. Let them alone!"

"We're thirty years old, dad!" Sam informed him. "We're adults and this is none of your business and..." she suddenly winced and audibly gasped and grabbed her stomach.

Her mother was on her feet in an instant, rushing to her side and kneeling beside her chair. "Sweetie, are you okay? Tell me what's wrong? Are you in pain? Tell me what it is."

Flack glared at Sarge. "Great. Thanks. Now look at what you did. Happy? Does it make you feel like a big man, Clint?"

"That's rich coming from you!" Sarge defended himself. "You're the one that put her in the hospital the first time by picking on her!"

"It was not his fault, dad!" Sam said through gritted teeth. "We just..." she grabbed a hold of Flack's hand as tight as she could. "We need to go. I want to go home. Will you take me home?"

"Tell you what. We'll go to Women's and Children's and get you looked at." he got up from his seat and gently helped her to her feet, an arm about her waist. "Wonderful, Clint. Hope you're happy. Something happens to my kid and and I'll be on your ass before you know what hit you."

"Stop." Sam pleaded. "And no hospital. I just want to lie down. Somewhere nice and quiet. Please just take me home."

"I just think it's better if we get you checked." Flack said gently.

"Don't boss her around!" Sarge snapped.

"I forget." Flack said. "That's your job. You get off on bossing women around."

"Can we please just go?" Sam asked. "Please?"

"We're going, baby. Relax. We're going." he led her slowly out of the restaurant, his arm around her, her hand clutching her stomach. Lynne scurried alongside of them, frantic worry on her face and in her voice, while Sarge followed slowly at a distance.

Flack led the way out of the hotel and out into the parking lot. Pausing at the side of the SUV to unlock the passenger side door and then helping Samantha climb in.

"Maybe you should get her looked at at the hospital." Lynne fretted.

"I'll call her doctor. We've got her on-call pager number. I'll see what she says. Or I'll call Doctor Sheldon Hawkes. He's a friend of ours and he's always willing to help out." Flack closed the door. "I'll take care of her."

"I'm sure you will. You're all ready doing a wonderful job." she surprised him by wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "You make my daughter happy. And you love her. I can see that. Thank you."

"I just wish things could have gone down differently tonight." Flack said regretfully. "I'm sorry."

"You're not the one who should be apologizing. Trust me. Will you call me? If she needs to go and get checked out? She's my daughter and I'd like to be with her."

"I'll call you." he promised and then stepped around to the driver's side, where he found Sarge waiting for him.

"I'm warning you now, kid." Sarge said in a low voice, as Flack unlocked his door. "Don't fuck with me."

"I think you need to take a step back." Flack told him. Eyes blazing.

"I'm serious."

"So am I. So step back or I'll make you do it myself. And believe me, I don't get pleasure out of having to beat down a bitter old man."

Sarge stepped back a step. "You got a smart mouth."

"So I've been told. Now I'm giving you a warning. You can't accept me or this baby, then stay the hell away from my wife. She doesn't need this bullshit. Back off and leave her alone."

With that he opened his door, slamming it noisily as he climbed behind the wheel. Fishing the keys from his pocket, he started up the ignition and put the SUV into reverse. "That went great, huh." he commented. Then remembered the reason why they were leaving in the first place. "You okay?" he asked Sam, as he pulled out of the space and put the gear into drive.

"I'm fine." she assured him. "It's starting to go away. I'll be okay. Have they took off yet?"

"Maybe we should go to the hospital." Flack said.

"No. Are they gone?"

He checked through the rear view mirror. "Just went back inside. Why?"

"Thank God." she said with relief and straightened in her seat with a huge smile. "I was starting to think my acting wasn't very good."

"What?"

"I was faking. There's nothing wrong with me. I just wanted to get the hell out of there."

He frowned. "I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you." he said.

"I'd prefer the latter."

As they waited for traffic to clear so they could leave the parking lot, Flack reached across the seat and put a hand on the back of neck and gave her a scorching, toe curling kind of kiss.

"I'm sorry that things didn't go better." he said. "And if I got a little outta control."

"You didn't. You were defending me and the baby. That's your right. And personally, I like it when you go all knight in shining armor. Makes me feel special and important to you."

"'Cause you are. You and the baby are my entire life. My world."

"Not to mention, mixed in with the whole cop thing, it totally turns me on."

"Yeah? You turned on right now?"

She smiled. "A little."

"Just a little?"

"I'm more hungry. Sorry, honey. As badly as I need sex, your son or daughter wants to eat. We didn't even get past the appetizers and I'm starving."

"So am I. Wanna stop by that little Italian plce by the apartment and you can get some of the seafood linguine you love so much?"

"Actually, I have a craving."

"Uh-oh."

"Taco Bell."

Flack nearly gagged. "What? That stuff is gross. You'll poison my kid."

"It's what I want." she argued. "Soft tacos and fries supreme."

He shuddered at the thought. "I am not letting you feed my kid that toxic waste. We'll go somewhere with real food."

"But the baby wants Taco Bell." she insisted. "Trust me. It's what he wants. Humor him, Don. Before I am forced to throw a temper tantrum right here."

"The closest Taco Bell is like twenty minutes away!" he protested.

"And you're point?"

He sighed. "Fine. I will get you your damn Taco Bell."

"It's what the baby wants. Make the baby happy, Don. You make the baby happy, it makes me happy. And when I'm happy, you in turn will be very, very, very happy."

"Whatever. Just don't complain to me when you're up sick all night."

"And stop at McDonalds, too. So I can get one of them Flurry things. The oreo one."

"You ask a lot. You know that?"

"But you are so good at delivering." she told him.

He grinned. "Remember what I said earlier? About you making it up to me? Well I'm holding you to that."

"I had my heart set on it. You know, I read somewhere that some women become even hornier when they're pregnant."

"You know what that means? Considering what you're all ready like, I am in big trouble."

"Yes," she agreed with a giggle. "You are."

* * *

She couldn't sleep. Insomnia was not a common occurrence for her. Even after years of seeing dreadful, often horrific and gruesome things in the course of law enforcement, her mind was never haunted by nightmares. She had never woken up in the middle of the night screaming from a night terror and drenched in sweat and trembling. She'd always been a deep, nearly comatose sleeper save for the all the talking she did. But in the last two days, sleep evaded her. Too many thoughts and fears coursing through her mind. The argument with Sarge at the restaurant only making things worse.

They'd gotten home close to ten. Tired and weary from the incident, yet one kiss in the elevator had rendered them unable to keep their hands off of each other. Sam had never been that attracted to someone. Or had someone have that effect on her. A simple touch or look from him was sometimes enough to drive her wild. She hoped it would always be that way.

Two amazingly tender yet powerful love making sessions later, Flack was exhausted and spent and fast asleep beside her, his face buried in his pillow, muffling any snoring that came out of him. Usually he was a snorer. A loud one most nights that had her wearing ear plugs. But tonight he was completely silent. The only sign of life the rising and falling of his back with each steady breath he took. His shoulders and arms baring witness to the fact it was a good idea if she kept her nails shorter than they were.

Samantha rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes. She'd been staring at the cieling for more than an hour. The clock radio read 1:32 am. No matter how hard she tried, her body and her mind would not relax. After another half an hour of being denied rest, she decided to get up. Maybe some reading or watching t.v.in the living room would help her fall asleep. Or maybe it she finished up the paper work she'd brought home and had promised Mac she'd have done two days ago.

She slipped out of bed and into her slippers and housecoat and padded out into the living room. She went into the kitchen and made herself a peanut butter and banana sandwich and grabbed a glass of milk and then sat on the couch with the volume on the t.v. turned low enough so she wouldn't disturb anyone. Then she grabbed her lap top and sat it on her crossed legs and flipped it open and powered it up. The paper work lying on the coffee table begged for her attention, but she ignored it. She logged onto the net instead, her fingers pausing above the keyboard as she contemplated the decision she'd made while hopelessly awake.

She sighed and began to type in her search.

Airline tickets to Phoenix Arizona.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I appreciate the support. I am considering taking a break for a bit and would like to hear back from you guys. **

**Please check out the following stories:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over on the Miami side of things)**

**Madison Bellows: Positive**

**laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**EvaFlack002: For Kate's Sake**

**And be kind to people. That's all I can say. There is no need for nastiness.**


	58. Leaving on a jet plane?

**WARNING THIS IS RATED M FOR THE ENDING**

**Leaving on a jet plane?**

"Girl you've never known no one like me  
Up there in your high society  
They might tell you I'm no good  
Girl they need to understand  
Just who I am  
I may be a real bad boy  
But baby I'm a real good man  
I may drink too much and play too loud  
Hang out with a rough and rowdy crowd  
That don't mean I don't respect  
My Mama or my Uncle Sam  
Yes sir, yes ma'am  
I may be a real bad boy  
But baby I'm a real good man"  
-A Real Good Man, Tim McGraw

**Thanks to my music maven Mauveine for supplying me with the good tunes time and time again. I have added her to the payroll.**

**A.N./ I am just doing this for fun. Writing helps me unwind and I enjoy doing it. I am not out to publish anything. So don't be hatin'. You know who you are. We are just trying to have fun. **

* * *

Flack was well known all over the department for his biting, sarcastic humor. It was mostly directed at perps or uncooperative witnesses and the occasional uniform or lab tech that just rubbed him the one way. Like when Kendall had called him handsome three days ago when he came to see Sam in the trace lab. Sam had gone on a break, leaving him alone with the crime lab's resident skank, and Kendall had seized the opportunity and called him handsome and offered up her number and a chance at good time. He'd shot her down right quick and tossed the number in the garbage in front of her and called her Barbie but with less brains.

He also had no tolerance for stupid questions or the equally as stupid people that delivered them. The morning following his run in with Clint, he stood in the cold, misty rain with the collar of his trench coat up to keep the biting wind off the back of his neck, taking statements from witnesses speaking in horribly broken English in a back alley in Chinatown. A badly mutilated body lay in the middle of the narrow, garbage strewn alley several yards behind him. Being watched over by a young uniform was about to face the full force of Flack nastiness by asking a simple question.

"Need any help, sir?" the fresh faced kid innocently enough asked.

"Excuse me?" Flack asked in return, those blue eyes dark and angry as he glanced over his shoulder at the rookie officer.

"Just there's quite a few people to talk to." the uniform explained, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously, those blue eyes telling him that the detective was not having a very good morning. "Just figured maybe you could, you know, get me to talk to people. Help you out."

"What's your name?" Flack asked, looking back down at the notes he was taking in his log book.

"My name, sir?"

"Yeah. You're name. Last name. Officer..."

"Reynolds. Evan Reynolds."

"Well Officer Reynolds, first off, don't call me sir. Second, I've been on the job for the last ten years and I've been a detective for almost eight. I know how to do my damn job. If I needed help, I'd ask. So do me a favor and babysit our friend there and keep quiet."

"Ignore him." Carmen said to the red face, trembling uniform as she and Speed headed down the alley with their kits, dressed in full rain gear. "He's always mean and grumpy when he hasn't had his coffee."

"What's wrong with the big bad homicide detective this morning?" Speed asked. "Didn't get laid?"

"Not in the mood, Speedle. So just hurry along and do your science geek shit."

"Whoa." Carmen frowned. "Where'd that come from?"

"I don't know." Flack said. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my soon to be father in law was a total prick last night and he informed me that in not so many words that I'm not good enough for his daughter and he'll never accept me as her husband and wants nothing more than to take my wife and unborn child and take care of them himself."

"Ignore that asshole." Speed told him. "He's just an overbearing, overprotective father."

"It gets better." Flack said with a rueful laugh. "I get up this morning and said wife informs me that she's taking off."

Carmen felt her stomach churn. "She's dumping you?" she asked in horror.

"No. Taking off as in going to Arizona. For two weeks. Maybe more."

"What!" Carmen freaked. "What the fuck is she thinking?"

"She thinks it's the best thing to do." Flack said with a tone that was all to clear he didn't share the same thought. "You know, to calm things down with her father."

"And you obviously don't agree." Speed observed.

"She's almost four months pregnant. We're just getting out of that crucial first trimester. She's suppose to avoid stress. And now she's going to be thousands of miles away where I couldn't get to her quickly if something happened? It's fucking bullshit."

"Hey, I am totally on your side here," Speed told him. "I'd be pissed as hell, too. Maybe there's a chance she won't go. Mac has the final say in whether he can spare her. And she'd have to get permission from her doctor to fly."

"Done and done." Flack said irritably. "She had phone calls in to both before I even got up. Mac said he understood and to go ahead. Her doctor let her go 'cause it's a short flight and her BP is under control with meds. So I am screwed."

"When does she leave?" Carmen asked, mentally taking notes to kick Sam's ass when she got back to the lab.

"Tonight." Flack replied. "Flight leaves at quarter after nine."

"What?" Carmen nearly shrieked. "Tonight? I'm tellin' ya right now, when I get back to that lab, I will tan her ass."

"You know what I'm worried about?" Flack asked them. "I'm worried she's gonna get there and Sarge will put some bullshit in her head and she won't come back. You know what he told her? That's there's lots of nice guys there who won't mind taking care of her and the baby."

"Don't put up with that shit, Flack." Speed said forcibly. "You know what you gotta do? Get some time off and get your ass to Arizona."

"Thought of that. Only I have to testify in court next week."

"So go afterwards." Speed said. "Show that sonofabitch you're the perfect man for his daughter. And you know she'll come back. Why wouldn't she?"

Flack shrugged his broad shoulders.

"She loves you, Don." Carmen re-assured him. "You're going to be her husband. You're the father of her baby. Of course she's coming back. What I don't get is what she's thinking even going there."

"I understand in a way." Flack said. "She wants to smooth things out. She feels if she goes there, it'll calm her father down. I get that. I'm just worried about her and the baby. I don't want something happening to them and I'm all the way in New York."

"Maybe I can go with her." Carmen suggested. "Gives her an ally. Would you feel better if I went with her?"

"You don't have to do that, Carmen." Flack told her somberly.

"I want to. I can talk to Mac. See if he'll let me go. I know he can bring in CSIs from Jersey if he gets too swamped. Would you feel better? Knowing I was there with her?"

"Honestly? Yeah. I would."

She smiled. "Say no more. As soon as we finish up here and we get back, I'll find Mac."

Flack nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, Carmen."

"I'm worried, too." she said. "And Sam would do the same for me."

"She would." Flack agreed. "Almost scary how close you two are."

"The gruesome twosome." Speed quipped.

Carmen swatted him upside the head.

Flack cracked a smile. "Speaking of gruesome." he said, switching into detective mode. "I've got a good one for you guys. Evisceration at its gory best."

Carmen grimaced. "You always catch the pretty ones, Flack."

"They seem to follow me around. What you guys say we get to work?"

Speed nodded. "I'd say that's a good idea." he said.

* * *

Carmen was a woman on a mission two hours later when she breezed into the trace lab. A load of samples to be tested in her hands. Her hair still damp from working outside in the rain but feeling warm and toasty in a fresh pair of dry clothes. Kendall was across the room, by the window over looking midtown, her I-pod blaring music into her ears and her head bobbing along to a tune unheard by anyone else in the room. Carmen wondered if the princess knew how ridiculous she looked. And if Samantha knew about her ill fated attempt at picking Flack up three days ago. Carmen doubted both. Kendall was too high and mighty on herself to ever think she was anything less than perfect, and if Sam had known about the attempted pick-up, Kendall would be one of Sid's many customers in the morgue.

But Kendall wasn't Carmen's concern. Not today anyway. No, today her beef lay solely with the only other person working in that room. Hunched over a microscope, clad in a white lab coat and completely oblivious to Carmen stalking across the room as her attention was intently focused on that sample in front of her and her own I-pod blaring music into her ears. First thing Carmen did when she reached that work station was slam her samples down on the top of the desk. Second was to yank the earphones out of them pretty little ears.

"Oww!" Sam complained, her head snapping up to face the culprit and rubbing her now tender ears. "What the hell Carmen!?"

"You better be glad you're pregnant, because otherwise I'd be bitch slapping some sense into you, Sammie girl." she fumed, tossing the earphones at her.

"Someones in a good mood this morning." Sam quipped and put one earphone back in.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Carmen asked.

"Working trace."

"That's not what I mean. I mean deciding to go to Arizona without even talking to me about it."

Sam smirked. "Never realized I needed your permission to do things."

"You're like a sister to me, Samantha. I'm worried about you and the baby. You know that. And I can't understand why you'd decide to put yourself and your baby at risk by flying."

"The baby is not a risk." Sam assured her. "I talked to the doctor and she said it was okay for me to go."

"Did you forget we're suppose to be moving into the new place at the end of the month? Have you even packed?"

"What's there to pack? I came to New York with a hockey bag, two suitcases and a carry on. It's all clothes and shoes and personal stuff. I don't own anything like furniture. And just in case I'm not back by then, I talked to Adam and Danny and Hawkes and they said they'd help Tim and Don move all your things. Even Mac offered."

Carmen's hands were on her slender hips, eyes blazing. "You just thought of everything didn't you." she said dryly.

"Pretty much."

"Except for the fact you leaving is going to break Flack's heart."

"I'll be back in two weeks, three at the most. He's a big boy. He survived this long without me."

"That is not the point. All the drama that poor man has been through with you and this baby and you don't think he won't be worried sick the entire time you're gone Goddammit, Samantha! How can someone so smart be such a dumb ass? You know this isn't a good idea. Do you enjoy emotionally torturing him?"

"No."

"Did he do something you feel the need to punish him for?"

"Of course not."

"Then why the hell are you tormenting him like this? He's madly and desperately in love with you and his child and you're taking off is nothing short of torture for the poor guy. And he's got this crazy idea in his head that you'll change your mind about him and not come back."

"I told him this morning that that would never happen. I love him. With all that I am and all that I have. And I'm not doing this to hurt him. I'm doing this to help him. To help us."

"You have got a seriously fucked up thought process." Carmen declared.

"If I go willingly, it calms my father down. And when he's calm, I can talk to him better and convince him that Don and I are happy and that he's perfect for me and that he treats me good and will be a great husband and an amazing father."

"You're suppose to avoid stress." Carmen reminded her. "Not tackle it head on."

"There'll be no stress." Sam assured her.

"Yeah, right. What happens if you get cramps and bleeding again? How is Flack suppose to get all the way to Arizona in time to help you through that?"

"They have excellent hospitals there, Carmen. And my mom will be with me." Sam gathered up her tray of samples, enclosed in tiny glass tubes, and carried them over to the GC/MS machine for processing.

Carmen followed her. "That isn't the point, Samantha. The point is Don shouldn't have to worry himself sick because you made some rash decision."

"Carmen, I love you. You know I do. But this is for the best. Okay? I have to do this."

"Fine. You have to do this so bad? Then I'm coming with you."

Sam laughed. "What? You can't do that?'

"Oh yes, I can. Flack can't be there 'cause he has to testify in court next week. Well I don't and I'm the next best thing to him being there."

Sam opened up the lid on the GC/MS machine and carefully placed her samples in a vial at a time and the closed and locked the lid. She pressed a few buttons and hit start to begin the lengthy processing. "Don't be crazy, Carmen." she said and headed back to her work station.

Carmen followed her once more. "What's wrong? Don't want me there?"

"It's not that." Sam said.

"Only reason why you wouldn't want me there is if you're hiding something."

"What?" Sam shook her head and began preparing some more samples. "No. I'm not hiding anything."

"Got a guy you're planning on meeting when you get there?"

Sam frowned. "I can not believe you'd say that!"

"So why can't I tag along? I'll be support for you. An ally. What's the issue? Why can't I come?"

"I never said you couldn't." Sam said.

"Good. 'Cause I've got the money for the ticket and I'll even give your folks some cash for letting me stay there." Satisfied she'd lay down the law, Carmen headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam called after her.

"To talk to Mac. Get some vacation time." Carmen returned. "I've always wanted to see the desert."

* * *

"No."

Carmen, seated on a chair in front of Mac's desk, arched an eyebrow. "No?" she inquired, puzzled.

"No." Mac repeated. "As in no I can't let you go to Arizona."

"I'm not asking you to part the red sea here, Mac. I've got zero absences since I started her and I'm third behind Stella and Sam for solved cases."

"You're work record isn't in question, Carmen." Mac told her, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "Nor is your attendance record. You're probably my most reliable, dependable CSI. I just can't afford to spare you."

"But you said yourself if you ever needed people to help out you could call Jersey PD and..."

"Their lab is swamped. I already called when Lindsay left to see if they could spare someone and they couldn't. And now that Samantha is out of the field for who knows how long, my lack of staff situation just got worse."

"But you let Sam go!" Carmen argued.

"In essence, Samantha is no longer a CSI. At this point she's a lab tech. A highly qualified and hellishly expensive one at that."

"Don't ever let her hear you call her a lab tech." Carmen said.

Mac grinned. "She is safely out of ear shot. How is she doing, Carmen? Being stuck in the lab?"

"She hates it." Carmen answered honestly. "She curses about it every single day. You know how sensitive she is about being pulled off the street."

Mac nodded. "For her health and the health of her and Flack's baby, it was the only choice I had." he said.

"For her health and the health of the baby you should have said no when she asked to go." Carmen told him.

Mac smirked.

Carmen blushed slightly. "I am so sorry. I did not mean that the way it came out. I am in no way telling you how to do your job, Mac. I just...I'm worried about her. I don't want anything happening to her or the baby."

"Neither do I." he said with sigh. "But she assured me she'd be fine and I even spoke to her doctor and she told me herself that it was safe for Samantha to fly and that if she had have had any concerns whatsoever, she wouldn't have let her go."

Carmen sighed.

"I'm sorry I can't let you go." Mac said sincerely."I just can't spare you."

"I understand. Like I said, I'm just worried."

"We all are. Believe me."

The phone on top of Mac's desk began to ring and he looked at it with disdain.

"Probably Sinclair." he said with a heavy sigh. "I've been after him to allow me to hire some new staff. I need someone to take Lindsay's place. And then when Samantha goes on maternity leave..."

"We're screwed." Carmen finished. She got up and headed for the door.

"Carmen." Mac called to her.

She turned to face him.

"I'd let you go if I could. You know that."

"I know. And I understand Mac. I just hope nothing happens with the baby while she's there and we're all here. It would kill Flack."

"I know. And unfortunately, he can't be spared right now either. And that's right from Gerrard."

"That man is such a goddamn peach." Carmen declared. Then realizing what she'd just said, sheepishly added. "Sorry."

"I think of things a lot worse." Mac laughed. He picked up the phone. "Detective Taylor." he answered. "Can you hold on for one moment, Chief?" he covered the receiver with his hand. "I really am sorry, Carmen."

"I know. So am I. But thanks anyway, Mac. It didn't hurt to ask."

He smiled and held up the phone.

"Good luck with that." Carmen said and slipped out of the office.

It didn't hurt to ask, but the answer sure did.

* * *

The rain hammered down. It was seven thirty at night and the sky was all ready pitch black. Wind rattled the windows of Flack's unmarked squad car. Visibility was poor on the slick roads and traffic was heavy along the midtown tunnel and all the way on the Long Island Expressway. I-495 was the easiest and most direct route from midtown to JFK airport in Queens, but it was in no way the easiest. Traffic was always backed up on the LIE regardless of time of day or weather conditions. In fact, it was not uncommon to see bumper stickers on other cars that read: I TAKE THE LIE, PLEASE PRAY FOR ME.

Going east on this particular evening seemed to be taking longer than usual. Flack had driven east on the expressway in blinding snow storms and hurricane like conditions during peak traffic hours and he'd never come across worst drivers or as many of them. Didn't help that the poor visibility had slowed things down considerably and by the looks of things, a half hour drive was going to turn into an hour, maybe even an hour and a half. He wasn't even half way to the Van Wyck South turn off that led directly to the airport. His nerves were shot, his patience on short supply and there was an ache in his chest unattributed to the bombing that he couldn't get rid of. At least the drive was made more peaceful when Sam managed to talk her parents into taking an cab to the airport, convincing them she had errands to run before she could leave. In reality, she had just wanted that last half an hour with Flack all to herself. And he was grateful for that.

Only neither of them had said two words to each other from the moment they'd gotten into the car. They had both come to realize that there was nothing more to be said between them. She knew where he stood on her going to Arizona. He was firmly against it and even if she explained her reasoning until she was blue in the face and put as much as a positive spin on it as possible, there was nothing that would change his mind. He said he understood why she felt the need to go. That it was her choice to make. She was a big girl and more than capable of making her own decisions. He wasn't going to fight with her. Not only was a nasty blow up bad for both her and the baby, he knew, stubborn as she was, that her mind was made up and there was no way to change it. And he wasn't about to force her to stay or forbid her to go.

Yet for Sam, that was what she wanted him to do. She'd always prided herself in being independent and had always sworn up and down she'd never, ever rely on a man for anything. She had convinced herself a long time ago that they couldn't be relied on. And now all she wanted was for this man to take complete and utter charge and tell her there was no way in hell he was letting her go. In her mind, that would show her just how far he was willing to go to keep her safe and protected. She wanted him to just say fuck this and turn that car around and keep her right where she was. She'd stay if he did. All she wanted was for him to let her and Sarge know that that he was the boss in that relationship and he was calling the shots from here on out. And that it was his job to make sure she, and their unborn child, were okay.

But she knew he wouldn't do it and that she wouldn't tell him she wanted him to. Two incredibly stubborn, strong personalities mixed together. She would never admit she needed and wanted him that badly, and he'd never actually do it because he respected her independence and strong will.

One of these days, someone was going to break. And neither wanted it to be them.

Flack was pissed. Not necessarily at her, but at her father for putting her in such a situation. He didn't understand how a father, knowing the kind of problems his daughter was having and how risky the pregnancy had been so far, could put her through such an emotional ringer. Didn't he care about her health and well being? Or that of the child she was carrying? It made no sense to Flack at all.

"The weather is really bad." Sam said, stating the obvious but needing the smallest thing to break the chill in the car.

"They said on the news is was going to be like this." he reminded her, reaching forward to turn up the heat and the speed on the windshield wipers. "Why anyone would fly in this is beyond me. I can't even believe they haven't grounded some flights yet."

"Takes a lot worse to ground flights, you know that." Sam said, sipping a cup of hot chocolate. It was unseasonably chilly outside and despite her long sleeve sweater and denim jacket, she still had the shivers. And a slight sore throat and neck ache to suggest she had more than likely come down with something.

"Wishful thinking I guess." he said with a sigh and eased his foot onto the brake as traffic came to a complete stand still.

Sam knew where he was coming from. She'd been praying since they'd left the lab that traffic would be bad enough to keep them from reaching JFK in time. She checked the clock on the Buick's dashboard. Quarter eight. The flight left at quarter after nine. There was still a chance they'd be sitting in that exact spot of the LIE for a long time.

"Maybe I should get off at the next cut off." Flack suggested, turning down the PBR. The damn thing was turning a small tension head ache into a massive migraine that hit him right between the eyes and at base of this skull.

"Why?" Sam asked, hoping he'd come to his senses and was just going to turn around all together and take her home.

"I can take Jamaica Way to the airport too. Still take as long 'cause of the extra distance, but at least there won't be this kind of traffic. I think that's our best bet if..."

"No." Sam said quickly. Abruptly.

He glanced over at her.

"I mean, let's just keep going this way. I like this way better."

Flack knew that she hated the LIE. If she had to drive it for a crime scene, she'd use the Avalanche GPS to plot out an entirely different route. Even if it took her longer to get there. And every time they drove it together, she was always saying how grateful she was that he was driving and how all the other motorists were nuts and she couldn't stand all the traffic.

He wasn't going to call her on the obvious lie. It would only cause an arguement and he didn't want the last hour or so together to be spent arguing. The pause in driving gave him a chance to massage his aching neck and take a sip out of the take out cup of coffee resting in the holder between their seats.

Samantha sneezed noisily. Then again. Then a third time. Then cleared her throat noisily.

He paused just as he went to take a sip of the coffee. "You sick?" he asked.

"No." she replied, although the scratchy quality to her voice told him the opposite. She sipped her hot chocolate, attempting to soothe her throat.

"You sound like shit." he told her.

"Thanks. That's very sweet of you, Don."

"If you're sick, you're not going." he informed her.

"I am not sick." she insisted. "It's just a little cold. Nothing major."

"Yeah? Well things have a way of turning major when it comes to you." Flack told her.

Sam sighed. "I don't want to fight."

"Am I fighting? I'm not fighting. I just don't want you to get sick. That's all I meant. 'Cause when things happen to you, Samantha, it always seems like you get the worst case scenario."

"Things follow me around." she said.

"No kidding." he sighed and sipped some coffee. "I think this traffic followed you, too."

"It's way worse than usual." she agreed.

He nodded. "Don't worry. I'll still get you there in time."

She was about to say I don't want to get there in time, when she was interrupted after the word I by his cell phone ringing. She clamped her mouth shut and watched him as he leaned forward to snatch the phone off the dash. He had promised that he wouldn't take any calls the entire drive there or while he was at the airport. That he didn't want anything interrupting their time together. And here he was, answering the damn phone. She sighed and shook her head and stared out her window. She understood his time was never his own in this job, but just once she'd like to go at least an hour without his phone ringing.

He heard the soft sigh and saw the roll of the eyes and the shake of her head and the way she moved closer to the window and pretended to be interested in the night time scenery. She always had the same reaction when they were out somewhere or in the middle of something and his phone rang. Intimate situations were the worst. But she of all people he thought would understand the ramifications if he didn't answer. Especially if it was dispatch or someone important. He checked the caller id.

Gerrard. Shit. Not good when the old bastard gave you a personal call.

"Flack." he answered simply.

"I come into the station on my night off to check on everyone's progress when I could be at home relaxing and spending time with my family, and you know what I find, Flack?"

You couldn't find your ass with a road map, Flack thought. "What's that, sir?" he asked, taking the polite approach.

"I find a big, fat case load on your desk and you nowhere to be found." Gerrard snapped.

"Sir, I..."

"This is getting to be a habit with you, Flack.Taking off whenever you feel like it."

"I didn't take off, sir. I cleared some time with the duty captain so I could take my pregnant wife to the airport."

"She's not your wife." Gerrard informed him gruffly.

"Well she as good as and I wasn't letting her find her own way to the airport and make her fend for herself." Flack told him. "I'll be back in an hour, hour and a half tops."

"Be back here in an hour, Flack, or you'll be riding a desk for a very, very long time."

"What was that, sir? I didn't hear you." he lied. "My signal is bad in this weather."

"I said you be back in an hour or..."

"I can't hear you, sir. Somethings wrong with my phone. I have to hang up before it disconnects you."

"Flack, I am telling you right now..."

"I can't make out what you're saying. I have to hang up." he pressed end on the phone and tossed it back onto the dash.

Samantha just sipped her hot chocolate and stared out the window.

"Now what's your problem?" he asked.

"Your phone." she answered simply.

"Look, I know I said..."

"It doesn't matter." she cut him off.

"If I hadn't have answered that, Gerrard woulda handed me my ass when I got back." he told her.

"Whatever. It's done now. So you can drop me off and go back to work."

"It's not like that and you know it." Flack told her.

"I said fine, whatever. Drop it."

"Jesus, Sam. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Don, I said drop it."

"Fine. You want to make this more painful then this has to be, that's fine."

She glared at him. "You always have to turn things bad, don't you?"

"You started this." he pointed out.

"Would you just drop it, Don? Let's just not speak so it avoids you getting nasty."

"Me? Nasty?" he shook his head. "This coming from the queen of mood swings."

"Just be quiet and drive. Okay?"

He sighed heavily and silently wished for some Tylenol. A whole bottle preferably. Because as much as he loved this woman, she was starting to make that head ache even worse. The traffic began to move again. At a snail's pace. They inched along for several minutes before he finally spoke again.

"You gonna call me when you get to your parents?" he asked.

"I'll see." she replied.

He frowned. "'What kind of dumb answer is that?"

"You may be too busy to answer." she replied.

Her offhanded, flippant way was just too much for him to handle. "What the hell do you want from me, Samantha?" he snapped, noticing her visibly flinch at the harshness in his voice. "Why do you have to bitch at me constantly!?"

"You said you wouldn't take any calls!" she shot back. "No. Correction. You promised you wouldn't take any calls!"

"It was Gerrard! What choice did I have!"

"You should have just ignored it and let the voice mail get it." she huffed, arms crossed over her chest like a spoiled rotten little girl who'd just been told she couldn't have her own way and was sulking about it.

"Right." he said with a slight chuckle. "Why don't I just personally hand him my badge?"

"Don't be so dramatic." she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I am not being dramatic. You are." he argued.

"Would you just do me a favor and be quiet and drive?" she asked, sugary sweet.

What he would have given for her to be man for just five minutes so he could knock the shit out of her. She just knew how to push his buttons and did it every damn chance she got. But instead of fighting back, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly and decided to take a calmer approach to her.

"Talk to me." he said. "Stop being such a bitch and just talk to me."

"Tell you what, Don. When you stop being such an immature asshole, I will do just that."

"Excuse me? I'm immature? You can't be serious. You sitting there and acting like a spoiled rotten little bitch who can't have her own way? You have got to be kidding me."

"Well you get arguing with me so it makes you just as petty as me." she reasoned. "So do me a favor and shut up and..."

"Excuse me?" he asked. "You did not just tell me to shut up. Please tell me you just did not say that."

She smiled that phony, sugary sweet smile once again. "Live with it." she said.

That was it. He just couldn't take it anymore. That was the last straw. He roughly yanked the steering wheel to the right and dangerously cut through two lanes of traffic, narrowly missing getting into at least one accident, before coming to a halt on the shoulder of the LIE. He put the car in park.

"What the hell were you thinking!" Sam shrieked. "You coulda got us killed!"

"Car has airbags." he reasoned.

"What are you doing? We need to..."

"What we need to do is talk. First off, don't ever tell me to shut up ever again. I promised you I'd never say it to you again, so you show me the same respect and don't say it to me. Second, we're both pretty pissed off. So you tell me what the hell has gotten you so wound up."

"I'm tired of being put second to your job!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes.

"Okay...and I'm tired of you making decisions without me."

"It was the right decision to make! You know that, Don. And I'm tired of you not sticking up for me and not taking control of things and just letting me do what I want!"

"You made this decision on your own, Samantha. I don't want you to go. But I also don't want to put any more stress on you and the baby. And as far as sticking up for you goes, I stuck up for you in front of your damn father twice now! Last night and when he came down to New York months ago and showed up at my desk. So don't fucking tell me I never stick up for you. 'Cause I would stick up for you come hell or high water and you know that. I'd give up everything for you. Hell, I would die for you for Christ sakes!"

"But you're just letting me go! You're not even trying to stop me! You just said okay, that I'm a big girl, do what you want."

"It's what you wanted, Samantha!" he argued.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want you to stop me from leaving? That if you showed you even cared in the slightest I wouldn't go. Instead you just let me do whatever I want!"

Flack had never been so confused in his life. "Are you crazy? You bought a non-refundable airline ticket because you want me to stop you from going?"

She nodded and sniffled noisily and brushed tears off her face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You wanted to be strong and independent and I'm letting you!"

"I'm just so tired of being that way." she said, her voice quiet. "I need you to be and want you to be in control of all of this. Of us. I want you to show me you care enough to stop me from going. And maybe this does make me sound a bit crazy, but it's the truth.'

He leaned forward in his seat, elbows on the steering wheel, his face in his hands. "This is fucking nuts." he declared, running his hands down his face and settling back against his seat. "I love you, Samantha, but you're nuts. You really are. And you're going to drive me nuts."

"I love you." she said. "I don't want to loose you."

"You're not going to loose me. Okay? I'm not going anywhere. It's just all of this stuff with you?" he shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. "I can't take this sometimes. I'm being honest. I can't. As much as I love you, you're just pushing me to the breaking point Samantha."

She sniffled noisily and stared down at her hands.

"Fine. You want me to take charge? Want me to be in control? Fine. You're not going. In fact, I'm taking the next exit and I am dropping you off at home and you're going to call your father and tell him I said you're not going. Okay? And if he gives you a hard time, tell him I said to call me and me and him will have a nice little talk."

"Was that so hard?" she asked, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket.

He snorted and shook his head. "You never make anything easy, do you."

"No one said life was easy, Flack." she said light heartedly.

"Yeah? Well live with you shouldn't be this hard."

"Come on," she said. "If it wasn't this hard, you'd be bored."

"I'd be sane though."

"Please. You'd miss me if I wasn't around."

"I have to admit. Things would be pretty dull." he said.

She frowned. "I was hoping for something a little romantic and sweet."

"You know, you keep owing me all these favors for the shit you make me put up with." he informed her. "Driving you all this way, putting up with your dad."

"What kind of favors?" she inquired.

"The kind where I cuff you to the bed and do dirty things to you." he grinned.

She managed a smile. "When did you say you had to be back at work?" she asked.

"I've got about an hour and fifteen minutes before Gerrard hands me my ass."

She smiled and reached over to switch the car into drive. "Then you better use lights and sirens to get us home." she said.

* * *

"Why is it every time we fight, we always seem to have sex afterwards?" Samantha asked.

They were in the living room, his lips were on her slender, silky neck, his hands up the front of her chenille sweater. One was trailing down her side to her hip while the fingertips of the other were grazing along the bottom edge of her bra before slipping up to cup her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple through the satin fabric.

"Because," he said, speaking between kisses to her ear and her neck. "Make up sex is the best."

"As opposed to all the other times when it's just plain crappy?" she asked, her own hands busying themselves by yanking his shirt from his pants and then undoing the buttons. Having long dispensed of his jacket and tie.

"That is so not true and you know it."

"Okay. So its mediocre." she said, getting that last button undone and yanking his shirt from his pants. She reached for his belt.

"I don't exactly hear you saying no or telling me to hurry up or get off or you or anything." he told her, pulling away from her long enough to take off his shirt and then his wife beater, tossing them both aside before tugging off her sweater for her.

"I just lie there and think of David Beckham." she teased.

"He's got nothing up on me." Flack said and grabbed her by her hips and yanked her against him. Kissing her deeply and hungrily.

Her hands were on his back and she slid them up and across his smooth, broad shoulders, then down his back once more. Around to his waist, her fingers once again working on his belt. His hands slipped down the back of her pants and squeezed her ass firmly through her lace panties.

She moaned into his mouth and hurriedly finished his belt, moving on to the button and the zipper on his pants. Quickly unfastening them and sneaking her hands down the front of his boxers and finding him ready, willing and able.

He groaned and pulled away from the kiss. "You're goddamn hands are freezing." he complained.

"That's why I'm trying to warm them up." she giggled and continued what she was doing.

It didn't take long before he was yanking her hands off of him and was stripping her of her bra, and then her pants and her undies, letting the latter two items fall to her ankles.

She kicked them away and he grabbed her and kissed her again, his tongue greedy as it searched for hers, a hand on the back of her neck and the other on her hip as he gently nudged her backwards in the direction of the couch. No messing around tonight. It had taken half an hour just to reach the apartment, leaving him just under an hour to do his thing and get back to work. She yanked his pants and boxers down, letting them pool at his ankles and almost causing him to trip over them as he steered her to the couch. The back of her legs hit the piece of furniture and she almost tumbled backwards, only to quickly turn the tables on him so that he had his back to the couch instead. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him down heavily into a sit.

"Thought you wanted me to be in charge." he said with a grin.

"I do. But right this second, I have the urge to be in control. Is that okay?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"If you want to get off? No."

She leaned over him to kiss him deeply and straddled him, a hand closing around his cock, guiding it towards her opening, her other hand clutching his shoulders as she lowered herself slowly onto him. Adjusting her legs and hips just right so she could take him in as deep as she could.

He groaned into her mouth, his fingers bit into her slender hips.

She drew back and smiled at him, moving slowly. "It's kinda nice having the upper hand." she said.

"Yeah?" he slid his hand off her hip and onto her thigh, then slipped it between them. "Question is this," he said as his fingers found her throbbing clit. "How long do you think you can keep the upper hand?" he rubbed her clit firmly.

She cried out and her body jerked involuntarily, taking him impossibly deeper. He caught one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked greedily as he thrust into her over and over again. She groaned and pleaded for more and he obliged, shifting to her other breast and suckling that nipple as thoroughly.

She was close to climax. He gently scored her skin with his teeth, then bit softly. She came undone, her body moved ever faster, stroking up and down, screaming his name and throwing her head back in wild abandon. Her fingernails dug painfully into his shoulders and then down his arms. She dropped her head down to kiss him and bit his bottom lip. Hard. Those inner muscles tightened around him and he came powerfully and relentlessly deep inside of her, groaning her name into her warm, moist mouth.

She collapsed into him, her hands finding his and holding them tightly. Her head resting on his shoulder. Their breathing was labored, their body glistening with sweat. Hearts pounding in unison.

Eventually she sat up, smiled dreamily and kissed him softly.

"Imagine if we had have done that in the car on the side of the LIE." he quipped.

"You do have a squad car fantasy." she laughed.

"It's my dirty little secret." he admitted.

"Well maybe one day, Detective Flack..." she kissed his forehead, his nose, his chin and his lips. "I'll make every fantasy come true."

He kissed her delicately and looked deep into her eyes. "You all ready have." he said.

**Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing and enjoying. You guys are the reason I keep going. I hope you continue to enjoy this and being positive. Today I am plugging:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention, What Ifs (with Madison Bellows) and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**EvaFlack001: For Kate's Sake**


	59. When the mind's made up

**When the mind's made up**

"Love of mine, someday you will die  
but I'll be close behind  
I'll follow you into the dark  
no blinding light a tunnel to gates of white  
just our hands clasped so tight  
waiting for the hint of a spark  
If Heaven and Hell decided  
that they both are satisfied and  
illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs  
If there's no one beside you  
when your soul embarks  
I will follow you into the dark

The time to sleep is now  
it's nothing to cry about  
'cause we'll hold each other soon  
in the blackest of rooms."  
-I Will Follow You Into The Dark, Death Cab for Cutie

**Thanks to my Montana. She knows who she is. Endless support and great music.**

**And to the other me over in England. She knows who she is, too.**

**A.N./ I now call to order a meeting of the I Hate Rick fan club. Mauveine as President, Aphina as Vice-President. All in favor of kicking his ass? **

* * *

By the time Flack reached the edge of the front yard, Rick was in the middle of the sidewalk, facing the house and was being physically restrained by one of the younger detectives who'd simply stopped by to offer his condolences. The once mild mannered, boy next door Rick Santucci had, in the course of a month, not only struggled with a relapse with the alcohol problems he'd been battling for a couple of years, but had transformed himself into a man possessed. Rick had come so far in his battle with his demons, thanks to Carmen and her unconditional love and support, sticking by him when he nearly hit rock bottom and the threat of having his badge taking away had finally convinced him that he needed some help. She'd been the one to put up with his tirades at home, the one to talk him down out of one of his 'moods'. She'd also heard the whispers that went around work about him and his addiction, made even worse the few times he'd been caught with alcohol on his breath at the start of shift or when he hadn't answered a couple calls because he was holed up somewhere drinking.He'd always just been damn lucky that the brass never caught him or someone hadn't been hurt at a crime scene because of his negligence.

Flack often wondered where that young, confident, warm and friendly uniform officer had ever gone. He would think back to that time nearly eleven years ago when he and Santucci were on the shoulder of that highway, creeping up to that BMV SUV in an attempt to rescue that little baby from its car seat before its distraught, gun shot carrying biological father could do anything stupid. Before that night, before Flack had plucked that baby gently from its restraints and handed it off to that young uniform who carefully carried it to safety, he knew little about Rick Santucci. Their paths rarely crossed. Separate shifts seemed to have kept them apart at scenes and there was never a huge call for a sign language interpreter. But that night, after that baby had been returned to its rightful guardians and the father locked up for killing the baby's mother (accident or not, murder was murder. Only difference was the degree and the time you would serve), Santucci had approached Flack at his desk and asked him if he wanted to grab a beer. Well one beer turned into nearly a dozen and after discovering mutual likes and dislikes and spending until three in the morning talking about anything under the sun, a friendship had been born. Flack had even managed to get Santucci involved with the precinct hockey team.

Which was how he'd met Carmen.

Santucci had actually come across Carmen's path a few times before that fateful day. He had seen her and Sam together at the lab and after Flack had introduced them, Rick had commented how attractive Carmen was and asked if she was seeing anyone. She'd been engaged to Speed at the time and everyone had thought that out of every couple around, those two had the most staying power. Flack had doubted his own relationship many a time, but never Speed and Carmen's. So it came as a shock when things ended as badly as they did. And Flack had respected Carmen's wishes and not brought any of his friends around for her to meet. She wasn't ready for another relationship and didn't know when she would be. That was fair, he'd thought at the time, because truth be told, if his own relationship had ever went down the toilet, he knew for a fact it would take a damn long time to just simply move on.

Carmen had never been much of a hockey fan, but after nearly a year of moping around the house and feeling sorry for herself, Sam had convinced her to come with her to one of the Saturday morning games. Afterwards, as Sam and Carmen stood outside the locker room talking to Flack, Santucci had come along and re-introduced himself. And Sam had taken it upon herself to invite him out to lunch with all of them. It took a long time for Carmen to warm up to a man. She'd been hurt badly and was having a hell of a time healing and trusting anyone again. She certainly wasn't interested in anything more than that simple lunch between friends. She admittedly found him attractive and smart, but she wasn't setting herself up for more heartache. But Santucci wasn't going to give up that easy. Weeks of constant visits to the lab and having flowers delivered to her and the offer of more than several dates had finally paid off when she agreed to dinner. She had agreed mostly to just get him off her case. But she'd found, during the course of the evening, that she actually liked the guy and was attracted to him despite the warnings from both her brain and her heart. The next day, when a box of pink sprinkle donuts mysteriously appeared on her desk, she found herself genuinely smiling for the first time in along time. Two years later, they'd gotten married. She wasn't rushing into anything after the disaster with Speed and Rick accepted that and her.

But now, despite seeing him through emotional ups and downs and the times he was at the lowest of lows and the highest of highs, Carmen didn't recognize her husband anymore. This man, red face and screaming obscentities at the tops of his lungs and tossing out threats, was not the Rick she knew.

Or anyone knew for that matter.

Carmen and Speed, standing close together on the grass, were watching in a mixture of anger, horror and disgust as Rick attempted to break free of his captor and go after an irate Danny Messer who was being held back, all be it poorly, by his terrified wife.

"What the hell is going on?" Flack asked Speed and Carmen as he crossed the grass. Seeing them that close together sent an enormous wave of deja vu coarsing through his body. It was like no time had passed. Like nothing had changed.

Only it had been nearly a decade now and so much had changed. So much that it was impossible to comprehend.

"He's crazy!" Carmen exclaimed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I was just playing with Tim and the boys and Rick lost it for no reason! All day long he's been acting crazy! He should never even have come here if all he was going to do was cause problems."

"He should never have come here!" Rick bellowed, pointing over his buddy's shoulder at Speed. "He has no right being here! Only reason why he's even here is to get close to my wife!

"He's here 'cause I asked him." Flack said. "Now relax, shut your mouth and either go back inside to cool down or just leave."

"He wasn't the one surfin' the 'net in the middle of a funeral!" Danny shot back.

Flack had heard the talk going around that Rick had been using his PDA in the middle of Carmen's eulogy. Hell, he was probably using it throughout the whole service. And under normal circumstances, Flack would have already knocked the shit out of him for it. But these were not normal circumstances.

"Calm down, Danny." Flack said, laying a strong hand on his best friend's shoulder. "You don't need to freak out. So he's an asshole. Let it go."

"That's classic coming from you, Flack." Rick shot back. "Coming from the king asshole himself. Who once drove his wife away by smacking her around."

"Get your goddamn ass of my property!" Flack snapped. "Get the hell outta here. You have no idea what you're talking about. You weren't there when it happened. You just heard the rumors. So shut your mouth, get in your car and get the hell out of here."

"He thinks he can just come here and steal my wife?!" Rick raged. "Walk back in like he never left? Bad enough he showed up at my wedding to take off with your wife, Flack."

"That's not why I was there." Speed angrily informed him. "I was there to try and stop Carmen from marrying a piece of shit like you. Too bad I never made it on time. Woulda saved her a whole lot of grief."

"You fucking asshole!" Rick screamed, his buddy struggling to restrain him.

"My kids are here, Rick." Flack reminded him. "They don't need to hear this or see this, especially when their mother was just buried. Get the hell off my property. Just get in your car and go home. Leave us alone. It's been a long three weeks and I don't need this shit on my doorstep."

"Show Flack some respect." Speed said. "The man just buried his wife."

"Respect?" Rick laughed manically. "Like the same respect you showed him by fucking his wife?"

"Lemme go, Flack!" Danny ordered, trying to fight off his best friend. "Lemme go so I can kill the sonofabitch!"

"Easy, Danny. Easy." Flack stepping in front of the smaller man and laying his hand on his shoulders to force Danny backwards, away from Rick. "Let it go. It was a long time ago. I dealt with it back then. Don't bring disrespect to my wife like this."

"You weren't there, Rick." Speed defended himself. And Samantha. "You don't know what happened so keep your mouth shut."

"I know he slapped around his wife and turned to you and got knocked up as a result."

"I swear to God..." Danny was shaking he was so furious, pointing a finger of warning at Rick from around Flack's wide, strong frame. "One more word outta ya Santucci..."

"That's not what happened." Speed fought back. "Like I said, you weren't there. You don't know."

"I know you you screwed his wife and I know Flack's been putting on this big show for the last seven years. How he's got this happy, loving marriage and the nice house and the great kids. Fuck, two of them aren't even yours, Flack. Yet you walk around like everything is wonderful and great in your life while the rest of us talk about what a goddamn chump you are for putting up with that shit."

"Get off my property, Rick." Flack ordered.

"Ain't on your property. I'm on the sidewalk. That's public property last time I checked."

Danny smirked. "You petty, immature, smug bastard."

"Come on, Danny. Let's go out back and get you a beer." he shoved Danny around and towards the house, a hand on his friend's shoulder, firmly steering the way.

"Why'd you put up with it, Flack?" Rick called after him. "You love her that much? That you'd embarrass yourself like that? Loose every ones respect? Was it worth all that? Ten years of being married to the crime lab's slut?"

Danny Messer was stronger and quicker than he looked. Flack had learned that over the years. And he'd made a mistake when he'd moved his hand from Danny's back. Because Danny slipped past him and stormed back to the sidewalk and landed a hard right to Santucci's face. Catching him in the nose and sending him slumping back against his car with a startled, pained yelp, his hand clutching at his busted, bleeding nose.

Everyone was shocked. No one moved or spoke. It was as if time stood still. Eventually, long minutes passed and Rick's buddy was helping him to his feet.

"You fucking bastard, Messer!" Rick bellowed. "You fucking four eyed geek!"

"Not bad for a four eyed geek, though huh?" Danny needled him, Speed and Flack grabbing him and holding him back from doing more damage. "Next time, you keep wagging that big mouth and it'll be a lot worse. I'll rearrange your whole face."

"Why so defensive, Messer? You fucking her too?"

"You sonofabitch!" Carmen exploded, storming across the grass towards her husband. "She was my best friend and you come here and disrespect her like this?!"

"It's okay, Carmen." Erica was frantically trying to drag her friend away.

"Must be something you guys did up in the lab back then," Rick said. "Pass each other around. Sam and Speed, you and Flack."

"Nothing ever happened between me and Flack. We've always been friends. I don't know where you've heard all this shit..."

"You gonna deny it, Carmen? I've heard the rumors. How he went to your place after he found out his wife slept with Speed. Your former fiance."

"That's all they were. Rumors. Nothing ever happened!" Carmen insisted. "And that was a long time ago! Seven years ago! Long before you and I. So it's none of your business."

"Is that what you're going to be doing now, Carmen? Comforting him? Now that she's gone? Maybe you were just waiting for the opportunity to get in his pants. Well now you have it. His wife's dead. No messy divorce or crazy ex wife to put up with. You can walk right into a ready made family. You know seeing as you couldn't have your own."

"You fucking bastard!" Carmen yelled and added insult to injury by slapping him hard across the face. "You have no right to treat me like this! Talk to me like this!"

"You're my wife!" he reminded her forcibly.

"Well then here..." she yanked off her engagement ring and wedding band and tossed them at him. "Now I'm not. Have a nice life, Rick. A nice, long, miserable, lonely life. Just like you deserve!"

Carmen stormed away, Erica's arm around her waist for comfort and support.

"Where the hell are you going, Carmen!" Rick yelled at her.

"To be with my family. My real family."

"You can't just walk away from me like this!'

"Yes. I can. And I am. Do yourself a favor, Rick. Get yourself a lawyer. A damn good one."

"And get the hell away from my house and my family before I get a dozen odd guys to escort you off of it." Flack added,

"You're a big man, Flack." Rick scoffed. "Can't even fight your own battles."

* * *

Flack would have went back and killed the guy where he stood if it hadn't have been for Kieran heading down the driveway, towing along with him a sheepish looking Daniel and a wailing Mackenzie clutching a towel to his mouth.

"Dad!" Kieran called. "Daniel busted Mackie's lip again!"

"Must be something about the name Daniel." Danny quipped, shaking his slightly injured right hand.

"I didn't mean to." Daniel said, his arms behind his back, eyes downcast as he scraped the toe of his runner on the cement.

"Yes you did!" Mackenzie wailed. "'Cause your mean!"

"I'll take Danny," Speed said to Flack. "You take care of this."

Flack sighed and took in his twin sons faces. One wracked with guilt, the other with agony. "You guys were fighting? About what?"

He'd always been the disciplinarian from the day Kieran was old enough to get up and crawl and cause sheer havoc around the house. Sam had always had a hard time scolding the kids and saying no, and laid that kind of thing squarely on her husband's shoulders.

"Daniel's mean!" Mackenzie informed his father.

"I am not!" Daniel protested. "You're mean, wackie Mackie."

"Hey!" Flack snapped. "Enough. What happened?"

"Mackenzie called Daniel a bad name and Daniel punched him in the face." Kieran explained calmly.

"He deserved it, daddy." Daniel said.

"Did not!" Mackenzie argued.

"Did too!" Daniel shot back.

"What did you call Daniel, Mackenzie?" Flack asked. He may have been the strict one, but Sam was the referee and the negotiator of such disputes. And for the millionth time since she'd died, he wished her back again.

"Nothing." Mackenzie replied.

"Don't lie." Kieran told him."I was right there."

Flack looked to his oldest for an explanation.

"He called Daniel a retard." Kieran admitted.

"I did not!" Mackenzie protested.

"You did to!" Daniel said and shoved his brother. "Don't lie! He's lying, daddy! He said it!"

Flack had to physically separate the two before there was more bloodshed. He knew what kind of damage these two could inflict. He'd come home many a time to Sam nursing their black eyes and split lips and various cuts and bruises.

"What did your mom tell you about that word?" he asked Mackenzie.

"Not to say it."

"And you said it."

"Well mommy's not here anymore so I figured it didn't matter and I could say it now." Mackenzie reasoned.

Flack's heart ached at his son's words. Mommy's not here anymore. "Well you can't say it." he told the little boy. "It's a mean word and you wouldn't want someone making fun of you, would you?"

"No." Mackenzie said.

"Then don't make fun of your brother. Or anyone else. That's not nice. Apologize to your brother."

"Do I have to?" Mackenzie wailed.

Flack stared at him.

Mackenzie sighed. "I'm sorry, Daniel." he said reluctantly.

"Apology not accepted." Daniel declared, his arms crossed over his chest, a defiant look on his face.

"Daniel..." Flack said.

"Fine. You're sorry. Fine."

"Apologize to Mackenzie for hitting him." Flack instructed.

"But daddy!" Daniel protested.

"Do it. We don't hit in this house either. Got it?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "I am sorry I knocked you in the face, Mackie." he said.

"Kieran, take Mackenzie inside." Flack told his oldest. "Get Mrs J to clean his lip up. Daniel, you're coming with me. I don't want to hear any more fighting or arguing or name calling from either one of you. This is your mom's day and you guys need to behave. What do you think your mom is saying right now watching all of this?"

"Nothing." Kieran said. "She can't do anything about it. She can't stop it. She's dead."

Carmen paused on her way by, a look of sheer horror on her face. "Kieran!" she exclaimed.

"It's true, Auntie Carmen. She's dead and she's never coming back."

"Don't say that!" Daniel wailed hysterically and wrapped his arms around his father's legs and buried his face in Flack's thighs. His tiny body wracked with sobs. "Don't let him say that daddy! Mommy is coming back! I know she is! She'll be back soon. I know it!"

Flack stroked his son's hair but didn't respond. All he could do was try his best to comfort him. What do you say when you're having such a hard time accepting it yourself?

Carmen glared at Kieran and pointed to the house. "Get your butt in that house right now Kieran Shaun Donald Flack!"

"But Auntie Carmen..."

"Now!" she yelled at him. "Before I drag you in there!"

"Come on, Mackie." Kieran grumbled and all but dragged his little brother back to the house.

"I am so sorry, Don." Carmen said. "For Rick, I didn't know that..."

"Doesn't matter anymore. Everything he said? It's stuff I dealt with a long time ago. He's just pissed seeing you with Speed. And he's pretty drunk, which doesn't help."

"I want mommy!" Daniel cried into his father's legs. "Call mommy and tell her to come home all ready, daddy!"

Flack sighed heavily and looked at Carmen.

"I am so sorry, Don." Carmen whispered through her tears.

He nodded and scooped Daniel up into his arms. The little boy curled his arms around his father's neck and nestled his head into Flack's shoulder. "So am I, Carmen," he said as he walked away. "About a lot of things."

* * *

It was quarter after eight in the evening. All the guests were long gone and the house was finally quiet. Carmen was at the kitchen sink, up to her elbows in soapy water, scrubbing mounds of dirty dishes left behind. Speed had left a little over an hour ago. He had helped Gus take a drunk and barely functioning Adam home before heading back to his hotel to make some phone calls to Miami and get some rest. Both he and Carmen knew that neither of them were ready for her to join him there. Besides, she was devoted to helping Flack with the kids and didn't want to be anywhere else at the moment. And unlike Rick, Speed understood that.

Erica had left two hours ago to relieve the babysitter at her own home. Danny had stayed behind to help clean the hideous mess that had been left behind in the backyard. From where she stood at the sink, Carmen had a great view of the yard through the large window before her. Watching Danny and Lindsay working side by side in a companionable silence, her holding a garbage bag open as he tossed trash inside.

Carmen had been surprised when Lindsay had offered to stick around to help out. She'd said she was lonely and just needed to be around people. People? Carmen now thought as she went back to her dishes. More like Danny.

Danny and Lindsay were not her concern. She had no time or energy to be worried about either of them. It was nice of Lindsay to come all of that way and plan on attending Sam's funeral. It was a pleasant sight to see how much the girl from Montana had grown up. But then they all had grown up in the past ten years. Hell, Carmen felt as if she'd aged thirty years in the past three weeks alone. Instead of worrying about whether or not Lindsay would put the moves on Danny (although it wouldn't surprise her, she was beyond caring), she had more pressing things to think about. The sudden, painful end to her marriage, her admission of being in love with another man, Flack and the kids.

It was hard to believe it was over now. That last step had been completed. It was official.

Sam was never coming back. Instead she lay in wooden box in the cold, dark earth. Alone. Sam had always hated to be alone. She had always craved company. Even when she and Flack were newly married and Carmen had moved into another place, Sam would always ask her if she'd come over when Flack was on nights and stay with her. Carmen would sleep in the spare room so that Sam would feel safer. In many ways, Sam was a child inside a woman's body. She had fears and nuances and weaknesses just like everyone else.

She was far from perfect. She was the first one to admit it. An ivy league education and good credentials and an excellent work ethic did not make up for serious chinks in her personality. All that meant shit in the grand scheme of things. Yet all her faults -little or major- made her Sam. And you either loathed her of loved her. The latter was true for most. People were drawn to her. Maybe because she did seem so perfect yet in the end proved that wrong. It reminded others that everyone was human. That they all made mistakes and made selfish choices and thought of themselves first sometimes. And you accepted her and she accepted you. As is.

The quickly fading sunlight caused something resting on the window ledge to sparkle. Carmen leaned over the sink to get a closer look.

Sam's ring. The tanzanite and diamond 'commitment' band that Flack had given her more than a decade ago. She'd worn it on her right hand since the day he'd proposed and the engagement ring took its place. She never removed her jewellery. Even at work. Which was why it was such a shock to Carmen to see it there.

"She put it there the night before she died." Flack said from the doorway, noticing Carmen staring at the ring.

Carmen looked at him as he approached, carrying three plastic tumblers and an empty sippy cup. She nodded at the water, motioning for him to drop them in. "I was surprised to see it." she said. "Sam never took it off."

"She'd lost some weight with all the morning sickness." he explained, setting the cups in the sink. "She was always really sick whenever she got pregnant. The ring kept falling off when she did dishes so she took it off and put it there and forgot about it. I just left it there. Kinda like she's going to come back and get it. I don't have it in me to move it."

"Whatever helps you cope." Carmen said. "But you know, one day..."

"I know. One day I'll get up the gut to pack up her things. Take off my wedding ring. I'm not going to be ready for all of that for a long time, Carmen."

"And that's your right, Don. You'll heal at your own pace."

He nodded and reached out as he was going to grab the ring. He paused, his fingers just brushing it before drawing his hand back in again. Instead, he went and grabbed a dish towel that was hanging on the fridge door handle and started to dry the overflowing rack of dishes.

"She was telling the truth." Carmen said with a smile. "You do do dishes."

He smirked.

"I need to ask you something, Don. And it's personal and you have every right to tell me to mind my own business."

"Ask away."

"What Rick said, about you hitting Sam..."

Flack sighed heavily and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"We got into a nasty fight the night she was leaving for the conference," he began. "I was stressed out from working crazy hours and I was pissed at her for leaving Kieran with me and having to do my job and look after him. We always fought about how she though i put the job before her and the kids."

"It happens sometimes, Don. We all do it. Put the job first."

"I know. So we got into this massive thing and we both said some mean, horrible things to each other and something she said made me snap and I slapped her. Backhanded her, actually. And I grabbed her by the tops of her arms and shook the hell out of her and pushed her around a bit. Said some nasty things to her and took Kieran and left."

"But I thought you went to the airport and..."

"I did. But I didn't get there in time. And I never told her I went after her. So in a way, I don't blame her for Speed. She hated me. She had a right to hate me with what I said. What I did. Even now, eight years later, I'm ashamed of myself for it. I would have done anything to protect her, Carmen. I woulda died for her."

"I know. And we all do things we regret. That we're ashamed of. But you guys forgave each other time and time again."

"I love her, Carmen. I'll always love her. We got through some heavy stuff. But she was my wife and the mother of my kids. And I respect her and love her no matter what."

Carmen smiled. "She loved you, Don. Always."

"I know." he said and sighed. "I know."

"I'm proud of you, you know."

"Yeah? For what?"

"The way you dealt with everything today. You're stronger than you think."

"We'll see. You gonna go and see Speed tonight?"

"No. I want to be here. And he respects that. You and those kids are my top priority."

"I appreciate everything, Carmen. You know I do. Don't know what I'll do without you."

"Hey." she bumped his hip with her own. "I'm not going anywhere. Are you?"

"Not that I know of. So you and Rick..."

"Are finished." she told him. "I am so sorry for the way he acted, Don."

"Not your fault he's a prick." Flack said. "As a matter of fact..."

There were footsteps over head. Going across the hardwood floor, from the bedroom above the stairs.

"Get to bed!" Flack yelled. Bedtime was always an ordeal in that house.

"Daddy!" Daniel called from the top of the stairs. "I had an accident!"

"He's been peeing the bed since Sam died." Flack told Carmen with a sigh. "Doctor says it's stress."

"Want me to look after him?" Carmen offered. "You've had a hell of a day."

"He's my son. He's calling for me. I'll take care of him."

"You're a good father, Don. I hope you never doubt that."

Flack just smiled and headed for the door.

"Daddy!" Daniel called once more. "DADDEEEEEEE!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Shhhh. You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."

"Don." Carmen called out to him.

He paused in the doorway.

"I'm serious. Don't ever doubt yourself."

"Too late for that." he said and disappeared.

* * *

As the sunlight quickly faded, soft white lights strung in the trees and wrapped along the banister of the deck came to life. The lights had been Samantha's idea. She liked the romance, the ambiance of it all, especially when the team came over for dinner, which was a common occurrence, and the warmer nights allowed them to sit outside. Sam, the girl who once couldn't cook anything that didn't come in a microwaveable container and Flack had once declared able to burn cereal, had actually become a damn good cook. Imagine her husband's surprise when after nearly a year of smiling and complimenting through barely edible meals, she announced she wanted cooking lessons for Christmas. Three years in row. He'd nearly had a heart attack when she put forth the request. Because if he'd ever suggested it, he'd be cooking his own meals and sleeping on the couch. It was the best money he ever spent and she had enjoyed every minute of it. She could make a killer filet mignon with garlic mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots and an even better chicken cacciatore. Needless to say, when she had time, the Flack house was well fed.

Danny easily recalled the evenings he'd spent sitting out on that deck, drinking beer or wine and eating the best damn cooking he'd had in a while, and having some of the best conversations of his entire life with both Flack and Sam. Both of them had grown up considerably the moment Kieran entered the world. They'd become different versions of themselves. And as the years passed and a new life entered the world, they became more patient and calm and loving. And wise. There were times he didn't even recognize Flack anymore. Because so quickly his best friend had changed into an adult. A husband and a father. And he was so much better for it. Sam had changed him. Drastically. Just as he had changed her. And saved her.

But there was no saving her now.

Danny forced that thought out of his head and paused in his clean up to take a swig of beer from a bottle sitting on the banister of the deck.

"It's beautiful out here." Lindsay commented, taking in the lights.

"Brooklyn's idea. She liked the look."

"I can see why. It's very romantic."

"Yeah, she was always trying to turn Flack into a romantic." Danny said with a smile and went back to his cleaning.

"Did she succeed?" Lindsay asked, moving along beside him, holding the garbage bag.

"I guess in a way. He never forget her birthday or anniversaries or Valentines Day. He'd send her flowers just because. He just liked to do things for her."

"Makings of a good relationship." Lindsay said. She watched him as he bent over to pick something up. "You look good, Danny." she told him, as he straightened himself up and tossed the trash in the bag.

"Yeah? Well so do you. All grown up. So how's things in Montana?"

"All right." Lindsay shrugged. "You know, same old, same old."

"You working back in their lab or anything?"

"I don't work at all anymore. I'm a stay at home, cook, clean, take care of the bills kind of wife."

"Seems odd for you. You were always so in to taking care of yourself, having your own space and what not."

"Things change, Danny." Lindsay said with a sigh.

"So do people." he added.

Lindsay nodded. "How about you? How much have you changed?"

"Tons. So much it's staggering sometimes. Got an amazing wife, two great kids. I'm the quintessential soccer/hockey dad. Aiden, my boy, he's nearly the same age as Flack's twins. They all play on the same soccer and hockey teams together."

"Got a picture? Can I see it?"

"Sure." Danny said and stopped his tidying to pull his wallet from his back pocket. Opening it, he flipped the the compartments that stored photos and held it out to Lindsay. "This is the most recent one. Taken last Christmas."

Lindsay looked down at the picture. A little boy and girl dressed in red sweaters and black pants, beaming for the camera. The boy, Aiden, had a head full of blond curls just like his mother but his father's blue eyes and charming smile. And his glasses. The girl, had rod straight blond hair that reached below her shoulders and big blue eyes and her mother's nose and smile. They were beautiful children and Lindsay's heart tugged at the sight, and the thought of them being Danny's.

"They're beautiful." she praised. "Your little girl is how old?"

"Almost four. Chelsea. Chelsea Nicole and Aiden Donald."

Lindsay smiled. "Why am I not surprised with either Aiden or Donald? Did you guys plan that? Naming your kids after each other?"

"Not intentionally. Just kinda happened. The twins were born first and Sam and Flack surprised me with the name. It was an honor, seeing as I was all ready Kieran's godfather. So when my boy came along, Erica and I just thought it was the right thing to do. Flack was so pissed. 'Cause to him, that name is a form of torture."

"You have a lovely family, Danny." Lindsay told him.

"Thanks." he said and put his wallet back "You don't have any kids?"

"No kids."

"Intentionally or..."

"We've been trying for a while. No such luck."

"Things happen when they happen. Some people it happens easier. Shit, look at Flack. Four kids. Who knew?"

"You know," Lindsay commented. "I'm sorry that Sam and I never got the chance to be friends. There was so much jealous and pettiness on my part. I felt so threatened by her. I wish things could have been different."

"You and Brooklyn were polar opposites." Danny said. "Some times, you can't be friends with everyone."

"I just regret that we didn't at least try."

"Too late for regrets, Montana. It's long over and done with."

"There's just lots of things I'd take back." Lindsay sighed.

"Me, too. But life don't work like that." Danny said.

Lindsay glanced around the backyard and at the house behind them. "It seemed like Sam and Flack were really happy. Nice house, adorable kids. You know, that was a couple I never imagined would have staying power."

"They were happy. They loved each other. Totally. But trust me, they had to work damn hard to hold it together sometimes. Never lost faith in each other though."

"I can imagine it wasn't always easy for her living with a guy like Flack." Lindsay commented.

"It wasn't always easy for him living with Sam either. Flack's a good guy. Takes a strong man to fo what he did. And he's better for it."

"What's that mean?" Lindsay frowned. "Do what he did? I heard some talk that the twins weren't his, but..."

"That's no one elses business." Danny was quick to defend his best friend. "And I ain't adding fuel to the fire. What's done is done. So tell me, what's up with you and the senator's son? Thought you were with the daddy first?"

"Not for long. The daddy wanted a young trophy wife. That's not me. My husband wanted the real deal. Someone to love and to love him. I didn't start with him until after the father."

"Don't feel the need to defend yourself to me, Montana. As long as your happy. Are you, happy?"

"Most days." she admitted. "Money to burn, no real responsibility."

"Sounds all right to me." Danny commented. "So what gives?"

"I miss you, Danny. I've missed you for ten years now. I think about you every day. Every second of every day, in fact. I never stopped loving you." Lindsay poured it all out, laid all her cards on the table.

Danny appeared stunned at first. Pausing mid task, staring at her with wide eyes. Then, after her words sank in and registered, he simply continued with his task.

"Tell me the truth, Montana. You come all this way for Sam or for me?"

She didn't answer.

"'Cause if it's the latter, you wasted your time. I love my wife. Madly and desperately. And I plan on staying that way. I look at it this way, if things hadn't have went so bad with me and you, I never would have met Erica. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. The love of my life. Her and my kids."

Lindsay opened her mouth to speak, blinking back hot tears at his words, but was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

Danny checked the call display on his phone. "Home." he said. "Kids probably. Headin' off to bed, wanting to say goodnight. Will you excuse me?"

Lindsay nodded.

Danny stepped away to answer.

Lindsay smiled through a haze of tears, listening to the way Danny talked so gently and lovingly with his kids, calling himself daddy, blowing kisses over the phone. Then telling his wife he would be home soon. That he loved her.

And she wished with all her heart that he was talking to her instead.

* * *

"Can I sweep with you, daddy?" Daniel asked hopefully, as he stood in the middle of the master bedroom en-suite bathroom, getting himself washed up and in a new pair of pyjamas.

"You want to sleep with me?" Flack asked back, pulling the Bob the Builder top over Daniel's head. "Why? I thought you liked your new bed. It's the one you asked mommy for."

"I want to sweep with you. In the big bed." Daniel replied, yawning noisily and accepting a glass of water.

"You're not gonna snore all night and steal all the covers are you?"

"No way, daddy. Uh-uh. That's what mommy does. Steal all the blankets."

"Yes." Flack agreed with a heavy sigh. "She does."

"And she talks all the time in her sleep, too." Daniel added.

Flack nodded, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

"Can I sleep on mommy's side of the bed?" Daniel asked, gathering up the t-shirt and stuffed cat he'd brought in with him and following his father's into the spacious bedroom.

"Sure." Flack said, yanking the heavy duvet down.

"With her pillow too?" Daniel's eyes widened in excitement and he climbed up onto the king size bed.

"With her pillow too." Flack told him and waited for Daniel to settle back against the pillows before tucking him in securely.

"When's mommy coming home, daddy?" Daniel asked.

"Never." Flack replied gently. "She's never coming home, buddy."

"Why?"

"Because God needed her to be an angel. In heaven."

"Where will she sweep?"

"I guess on a cloud. With lots of other angels."

"But what about her clothes?" Daniel asked. "Does she need clothes? Won't she be cold?"

"I'm sure that she can get some clothes up there somewhere."

Daniel considered that. "Will she be lonely?" he asked with concern. "What about scared? Is she scared?"

"No. She's not scared." Flack assured him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Because Grampa Clint and uncle Sid are up there. So she has company."

"Will she ever come home, daddy? When God doesn't need her to be an angel anymore? Will he let her come home? 'Cause I can wait until he doesn't need mommy any more."

Flack sighed. "Daniel, we talked about this. Remember? Mommy has to stay in heaven. She can't come home. She's not allowed to. And she's too far away to call her on the phone or go visit. But one day, a long time away, you'll get to see her again. I promise you that we'll all get to see her again and then we'll be with her forever."

"It's not fair, daddy. That my mommy had to go to be an angel. She wasn't finished being my mommy yet. Why my mommy? Why did she want to leave?"

"Daniel, I know it's not fair, buddy. And I wish I knew why. But I don't. Mommy didn't want to leave. She didn't have a choice. And just because mommy isn't here doesn't mean she loves you or your brothers or Mikayla any less. She'll always love us. Just like we'll always love her."

Danny sniffled noisily but held back the tears. "I miss her, daddy."

"So do I, buddy. So do I."

"You're not going to go away too, are you daddy?"

"Not yet. One day. But not yet. You get some sleep." Flack reached to his side and flicked off the bedside lamp. He'd left the light in the bathroom on and the door cracked open for a night light. He leaned over his son and kissed him softly.

"Can we go and get pizza and ice cream tomorrow, daddy?" Daniel asked.

"Sure. Whatever you want, buddy."

"Okay." Daniel yawned noisily. "Thank you, daddy. I love you."

"I love you, too. Sweet dreams of sweet things."

"See ya later alligator." Daniel chimed.

"In a while crocodile." Flack finished with a slight smile.

"Nite, nite, daddy. You sit with me 'til I go to sweep?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Daniel. Close your eyes and get some sleep. Okay?"

Daniel nodded and rolled over onto his side and nestled his face into the pillow. "Smells like mommy." he declared happily.

Tears spilled down Flack's cheeks. He was beyond even attempting to hold them back now. He brushed the tears away with the back of his hand and sat there in the dark, listening to Daniel's soft breathing, until it eventually quieted to a near whisper and became shallow. It always amazed him how fast kids were able to fall asleep.

* * *

Flack got up slowly and quietly and grabbed the wing back chair from the far corner of the room. God how he hated that thing. Some antique cherry wood and needlepoint piece of crap Sam had decided she wanted for Christmas three years ago after seeing it in an antique store two blocks from the lab. It was all she talked about for three months straight. How badly she wanted this chair. How good it would look in their bedroom. When he'd walked in to that store to look at it, he realized how crazy his wife was. The thing was just plain ugly with it's cream colored cushion and backrest done up with delicately crafted, multicolored flowers. Even more insane was seven hundred dollar price tag.

Truth be told, he couldn't say no to her. Samantha had always been his weakness. There was nothing he wouldn't do to make her happy. Even if it killed him. Yet she never expected much and was grateful and appreciative for even the littlest things. But he'd purchased the chair. At least the store owner had given him a hefty discount when he found out he was NYPD. She'd actually cried when he brought the damn thing home Christmas Eve she was so happy. And he didn't have the heart to tell her it looked like shit in the bedroom. She loved it and the smile on her face was like all his Christmases rolled into one.

And now he sat in her favorite chair, where she'd spent hours reading or working on her lap top, staring out their bedroom window into the dark of night, his heart shattered and an agonizing ache in his stomach. He played with his wedding band. Slipping it up to the knuckle and then back down again, over and over.

You promised me, Samantha, he thought bitterly. You promised me to death do we part. That wasn't suppose to come this soon. Why'd you have to go and break that promise? Why are you making me choose like this? You or our kids? You know I can't live without you, that the kids will be well taken care or and loved. I need to be with you. I want to be with you.

I have to be with you.

The phone on the bedside table began to ring, startling him. Daniel moaned in his sleep and rolled over onto his stomach, but didn't awaken. Flack let the phone ring. Knowing the machine would pick it up in a matter of moments.

"Hi."

Samantha's voice. Loud and clear. It caused his heart to nearly jump out of his chest, his entire body to jerk. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Her voice was cheerful and bubbly. Like it was when she greeted people. So close it was as if she was standing in the room behind him. Causing him to actually look over his shoulder in anticipation, excitement at the thought of seeing her coming towards him. The feeling of elation quickly replaced by tremendous despair when he realized she wasn't there. That it was impossible.

And then he realized he'd forgotten about the greeting on the answering machine. She had recorded it just weeks before she died, the sound of the kids laughing and playing in the background. He was on his feet and bounding across the room in an attempt to stop it, to save himself from the pain something so simple would cause him.

"...you've reached the Flack house. Don and I can't come to the phone right now, but leave your name and a brief message and one of us will get back to you when we're not so damn busy."

Hearing her say his name nearly brought him to his knees. In a mixture of anger and profound sadness, he reached behind the night table and yanked the machine's cord from the outlet.

Daniel's head popped up from pillow. "Mommy?" he asked hopefully. "Daddy? I heard mommy! Is she back after all?"

"Mommy's not here, buddy." he replied with deep regret. "Go back to sleep."

"Okay." the little boy said and dropped his head down once more. Asleep nearly instantly.

I can't take this anymore, Flack thought. I just can't. This is too much. I need to get the hell out of here. I can't live like this. I'm going insane. The kids can't see me like this. They don't deserve this.

He went to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer on his side. Removed a small black metal lock box. The key was all ready in his shirt pocket and he fished it out. Taking a deep breath, he put the key in the box and heard a small click as it unlocked and opened the lid. Inside was his holster, gun and a full magazine of bullets. When the kids came, he and Sam had begun locking their weapons up at night. They'd heard too many stories of little kids getting a hold of poorly stored weapons and accidentally killing themselves or someone else.

He picked up the magazine first. He'd only need one of this bullets. He removed the gun from the holster and snapped the magazine in place with a loud click. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror above the dresser.

He didn't even know himself anymore.

And he didn't want to.

* * *

Carmen was in her pyjamas and robe and was just turning down the sheets on the pull out couch in the den when a knock came to the door.

"You decent?" Flack asked without entering.

"Yeah. Come on in." she replied.

He opened the door and stuck his head inside. "I need to go and get some air, Carmen. Clear my head. Think you can keep an eye on the kids?"

"Of course. Are you okay?" she noticed he'd been crying. His face streaked by tears, his eyes red.

"Yeah. I had a little moment when I was tucking Daniel into bed. He was asking me all kinds of questions about his mom. I need to just get out for a couple hours. Do some thinking. Sort some things out in my head."

"Go ahead." Carmen told him. "We'll be fine."

"You think you could stay in mine and Sam's room? Daniel's in the big bed and I don't want him waking up and getting startled."

"No problem, Don." she assured him.

"Thanks, Carmen. For everything."

"You do it for me." she reminded him.

He smiled. "Goodbye, Carmen." he said and closed the door once more.

A chill went down her spine at those words. Flack never said goodbye. He was as anal about it as Sam had been. She waited until she heard him leave the house, the car start and then pull out of the drive, before hurrying from the den and up the stairs. Something wasn't right. She could feel it. She rushed down the upstairs hall to the master bedroom and hurried inside. Daniel was fast asleep in the middle of the bed, clutching that stuffed cat and t-shirt.

Carmen opened the bathroom door to give her a little more light and looked around the room. She was the open lock box on the dresser and went to it. Her heart pounding when she saw only the empty holster.

"Jesus Christ, Flack." she said aloud. "Don't be fucking stupid."

She rushed over to grab the cordless phone, fingers shaking as she dialled his cell phone. He didn't answer after several tries and she left several frantic messages. Pacing up and down at the foot of the bed, feeling light headed and sick to her stomach.

She dialled the first person that came to mind. The other end ringing several times before the familiar voice finally picked up.

"I need your help." she sobbed. "Badly."

Much love to all you of offering your kind words and support. I do this for you guys. I appreciate every single one of you. Even you guys who are reading and not reviewing. Mind you, I'd love it if you did.

**Soccer Bitch: **_Thanks for your continued support. Hope you keep enjoying_.

**Aphina:** _Sam can be a little mental. lol. But he loves her. And you're right, Carmen should have slapped her one._

**Mauveine: **_my music maven! You can love as much as you like in this. Sam does some crazy things. But she loves him and needs him and has a hard time just telling him that. And Mac BIG SIGH I need more Mac._

**Madison Bellows:** I_ put up this 'future chap' just for you. I had another one planned and then did this one instead. Hope you enjoyed it._

**EvaFlack001:** _I was the queen of pregnancy hormone swings. LOL. I try to write Sam and Flack as realistic as possible. Some peeps just want to read the hearts and flowers and cuteness all the time, and let's face it, that's far from real. I am glad you're enjoying them together. And thanks for your kind words. Especially about my son._

**Bluehaven4220:**_ Sam loves to torture the poor guy. And he takes it and comes back for more! It's not all sunshine and roses for them, but the love each other and work damn hard to keep it together. _

**laplangurl:**_judging by the 'definition' every woman in the world must be a Mary Sue lol. Oh well, can't make everyone happy. And I would love it if Sam and Kelli could get together. Boy, the talks they could share about their men._

**jayfray:** _Pregnancy hormones. Me and you both, girl! Longest eight months of my life. Glad my son decided to leave out that last month and stop torturing me.lol. Let's just say that poor Flack is in for it.Big time._

**raisincookies1:** _another one of my faithful. Thanks for your kind words and support as well._


	60. Sticking up and standing tall

**Sticking up and standing tall**

**A.N./ I want to send a big big big thank you to all of you who voted for me in the fan fiction awards. It's a great honor to win Best Tragic and come second in Best Flack/OC, Best Baby Epic and so many more. I can not thank all of you enough for your continued love for this story and your incredible support. There's much more to come and I hope you all hang in there!**

**Also, if you think this story is too long (you know who you are) then you don't have to keep reading it. It's only going to get longer. **

"Throughout the passing years  
As all the world seems ever changing  
We share the smiles and tears  
Of life, with love that's so far ranging  
And after all is said and done  
I'll be the one beside you  
I'll be your love and loyal friend  
Until the end, beside you."  
-Beside You, Tal Bachman

**Big thanks to my Montana for yet another great song and to Aphina for all her help.**

* * *

Carmen arrived at Flack's apartment shortly after six thirty at night. So dark and dreary outside that it appeared to be much later than it actually was. The chilly temperatures suggesting fall was definitely around the corner. She paused briefly in the recessed front entrance to shake her umbrella vigorously and stomp the water off of her shoes. It had been raining solidly the entire day and the strong winds made it nearly impossible to keep an umbrella from turning inside out, which explained why there was more water on Carmen then the umbrella itself. Her hair was matted to her cheeks and forehead and she was soaked to the bone and looking forward to getting into some dry, warm clothes. And getting a steaming drink into her. Anything to ward off the chill that encased her body. A nasty virus was wiping out the members of the lab one by one. Everyone was complaining about body aches and a fever and sore throats and ear aches. The only one who seemed to escape it was Mac. And he was just worrying how in the hell he was going to manage with so many sick people around and no one to cover for them.

It was all Sam's fault. She started it. As happy and relieved as every one was to see her walk into the lab the morning after she was suppose to head for Arizona, she had brought with her one of the worst colds any one had ever seen. What started out as simple sneezing and coughing had escalated into her being ordered to stay home. By Flack, Mac and the doctor. Her ears were constantly plugged up and nearly made hearing impossible, she couldn't stop sneezing and was so congested she needed a humidifier to breathe properly in order to sleep, and she had a nasty sounding, rattling chest cough that required asthma inhalers at its worst. And a slight case of strep throat tossed in for good measure. Flack had moved himself to the couch to sleep so he wouldn't catch it and be off work as well, but ended up spending more time going in and out of the bedroom to check on her when the coughing was bad enough it kept him up. So when his double began showing signs that it was dangerously close to becoming a triple, and he'd expressed concerns on her being alone to Carmen, she did what any worried, pampering best friend would do.

Grab some Popsicles and some ice cream and orange juice and head on over. She was armed with a large container of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey, a plastic bottle of juice, an assortment of Popsicles and an even bigger assortment of baby catalogues she'd spent scooping up at any store she passed within the last two days. Everything from Target and Babies R Us to the ultra luxe Petite Tresor, celebrity baby mecca. Way out of Sam and Flack's baby budget, but damn fun to look at. Who didn't covet a gold gilded pram like the one Donald Trump's son was given? Or a brass canopy crib like the one Suri Cruise slept in that cost nearly ten grand?

Carmen sat the umbrella on the carpeted floor alongside the door of apartment 702 and toed off her shoes before knocking noisily. She could hear water running in the kitchen and the rattling of plates in the sink, along with the stereo in the living room tuned in to the local pop-rock station. She had to knock a few times before the water eventually was turned off and she heard Sam's soft footsteps approaching the door, followed by the unlocking of the dead bolt.

"Hey." Sam greeted in a raspy voice as she held open the door. Looking tired and worn in a dress shirt of Flack's and loose fitting, faded sweats.

"Hey." Carmen returned as she stepped into the apartment, sympathy in her eyes as she regarded her friend. "How are you feeling?"

"All right. A bit better." Sam took Carmen's coat from her and placed it on a hanger, which she then hung on the door knob for the garment to attempt to dry. "Thanks for coming to keep me company."

"No problem. I brought goodies." Carmen held aloft the grocery bags.

Sam waved her into the kitchen. "Ignore the mess. Don's attempting to pack in between working crazy hours. He has more shit than any man ever should have. Mind you, I'll give him credit, he's very neat and tidy and he's throwing a lot away. But now, there's a massive hockey equipment bag in the middle of the living room floor and I've damn near broke my ankle tripping over it three times all ready."

"You need to be more careful. You've been extra clumsy lately."

"It's the baby," Sam reasoned, taking the bags from Carmen and unpacking the frozen stuff and putting it in the freezer. "The baby is sucking my brains out."

"Sam, trust me, it's not the baby. It's just the way you are."

Sam frowned. "Ha-ha. Very funny. You look like a drowned rat. I can get you something to wear if you'd make me a tea."

"Deal." Carmen agreed and moved to fill the kettle and plug it in.

Sam disappeared, sneezing and coughing as she went, then muttering curses and a couple "Goddamn men!" as she collided with boxes littering the living room and hallway floor.

Carmen grinned and set to making some honey lemon tea and some chicken noddle soup. She was in the midst of boiling a pot of water for the soup when she noticed a neatly posted memo on the side of the fridge. Blood test September 29/08 1:30 pm 3D ultrasound Oct. 13/08 2:30 pm. Carmen sighed. She had just gotten to the point where she'd all but forgotten there may be a problem and now here was a reminder that all was not perfect. She could only imagine how Sam and Flack were feeling. Putting on brave faces while consumed by worry.

Sam came back into the kitchen, carrying a pair of yoga pants, fresh socks and a baggy t-shirt. "Hope this is okay. It's a t-shirt of Don's. I have nothing clean and no desire to do laundry."

"No problem. You look terrible, Sam."

She coughed noisily. A painful sounding, rib rattling cough that went on for nearly a minute and had her reaching into one of the cupboards for her inhaler. She shook it vigorously, uncapped it and took three strong puffs.

"And you sound even worse. Flack wasn't kidding. What did the doctor say?"

"Just that I have a bad head cold, touch of bronchitis and a bit of strep throat. ."

"Well it sounds like damn pneumonia. Here..." Carmen handed her a mug of tea and shooed her in the direction of the table. "You sit and relax and I'll get changed and make you some soup. Okay?"

"Yes, mom." Sam said light heartedly and laughed when Carmen gave her a gentle shove towards the table.

"So what's this with these appointments?" Carmen called, as she changed in the living room.

"What appointments?" Sam asked, flipping through the Babies R Us book.

"Blood work. Ultrasound. On the fridge."

"The doctor called yesterday for us to re-schedule. Don made them. For his days off so he could come along."

"You're lucky, Sam." Carmen told her as she re-entered the kitchen, pulling her hair out of the neck of the t-shirt. "You've got a guy that is beside you every step of the way. Doesn't want to miss a thing. Some could give a shit less and let you just deal with it all yourself. Trust me, guys like Flack? They don't make them like that very much anymore." she sniffed the shirt. "Or that smell this good." she said with a smile.

"I would have gotten you a cleaner one, but he's kinda lazy on the laundry front lately too." Sam said with a grin. "He only had that on for a about an hour."

"No problems here. Smells great. And other than Tim with his OCD, Flack's probably the cleanest guy I've ever met."

"To the point of freakiness." Sam said with a grin. "He can be a little obsessive himself with some things."

"Like with you, you mean?" Carmen asked as she stepped to the stove to concentrate on the soup. "Wait, that's possessive. My bad."

"He can be." Sam admitted willingly, grabbing a pen off a stack of papers in the middle of the table and using it to circle various items that crossed her eye in the catalogue. "But no more than I can be clingy, insanely jealous fiancee."

"Why do you even say that word? You guys may as well all ready be married. I mean, he calls you his wife as it is."

"He says it sounds better than fiancee or significant other. He likes the sound of it."

"Making a wish list?" Carmen asked curiously, looking over at her friend eyeing the items in the catalogue intently and circling at least two things on each page.

"It's just stuff I like." Sam replied. "We probably don't even need half of it. Don wants to start buying stuff and I keep telling him it's too soon for that sort of thing. That we should at least wait a couple months so we don't have tons of things collecting dust. You know what he almost bought today? A replica of the score clock at Madison Square Gardens to use as a light in the baby's room. Can you believe that? If he thinks he's putting anything Rangers in my kid's room..."

"He's hung up on it being a boy, huh? What if it's a girl?"

"He doesn't care. He says it'll be a hockey fanatic regardless of gender." Sam sipped her tea. "Personally, I think he's nuts. But, who am I?"

"He's right into it. Like I said."

Sam snatched a kleenex from the box in the middle of the table and sneezed into it noisily. "He tries hard, Carmen. It's not easy for him. Balancing everything. All these long, insane hours and the planning for that massive raid he has coming up on one side, and me and my issues and baby stuff on the other. He's trying so hard and I hope he realizes how much I appreciate him. It's not like I tell him."

"Well," Carmen said, stirring the soup a final time before turning the burner off. "I'm sure you show him just fine."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, he likes the showing better than the telling."

"Of course he does. He's a man. How are you guys doing? With all this up in the air stuff with the baby?"

"We're okay. And we've come to some decisions. Agreements. After he talked to the doctor, we sat down and we talked openly and calmly. About how we feel and what we're expecting. Stuff like that."

"And?" Carmen grabbed two bowls from the rack by the sink and a ladle to spoon out the soup with. She filled each bowl and found some spoons and joined her friend at the table.

"We agreed to have the blood work re-done and the go for the specialised ultrasound. We have to meet with a periantologist afterwards. You know, a maternal/fetal medicine specialist. In case he found something that looks off on the ultrasound. But that's where we stop. Regardless of the outcome. No amnio, no invasive tests. Whatever happens, happens. If the baby has a problem, then that's God's will. We'll love him or her regardless."

"Wow." Carmen nodded, impressed. "Must have been a hell of a talk."

"It was. And we were calm and civil and no one raised their voice and nothing got thrown across the room so it was a positive. We needed to talk. Hear each other out. Now we have a better understanding of the situation and each other. He's a very sensitive man, Carmen. I know a lot of people think he's an asshole and don't get to see a gentler side to him, but it's there. He's got a big heart and he's very compassionate. I told him he should let more people see that side of him."

"What did he say?" Carmen asked.

"He called me crazy. Just like he always does." Sam replied with a heavy sigh.

"That bothers you?"

"I know he doesn't mean it in a mean way. He's only joking around. Like, we'll be talking or goofing around and I'll make some silly comment and he'll say you're crazy. That kind of thing. But it hurts. Because Zack used to say it all the time. Only he wasn't joking."

"Have you mentioned any of this to Flack? About how you're feeling and stuff? 'Cause you seem really down, Sam. I mean, apart from being sick."

"The doctor says I have higher than normal pregnancy hormone levels so my mood swings are more severe." she explained. "And no. I don't tell him. He doesn't want to hear that kind of stuff."

"Sam, he's going to be your husband. Of course he wants to hear it."

"Please. He doesn't want to hear me bitch and moan and whine about my girl problems. No man wants to hear stuff like that."

Carmen shook her head. "Who taught you all of this? Seriously."

"Just something I remember my mom telling me when I was little. No man has the tolerance for a whiny woman."

"Well first off, that's bullshit. Second, you don't have no ordinary man. He's there for you, Sam. Give him a chance."

Sam nodded and quietly sipped her tea. "I don't do that enough." she admitted. "And he deserves that."

Carmen didn't respond. She watched her friend as the two of them ate in companionable silence. It wasn't a common occurrence that Sam talked about personal things so easily and willingly. She was notorious for bottling things up. And Carmen could tell by the intense look on Sam's face, there was a lot more she needed and wanted, to say. So Carmen waited for when she was ready.

"And he's just been working a hell of a lot of hours lately." Sam suddenly said. "And I know from being on the job that the job is usually first and everything else is second. And I accept that. I really do."

"But sometimes it's annoying and hurts like hell." Carmen concluded.

"Exactly! Some times I want to come first for a change. And he tries, Carmen. He really does."

"I know. I see it myself. But if he keeps going like he is, he's going to burn himself out and then he won't be any use to you or the baby."

"I know. And I don't want that to happen and I've told him not to worry so much about me and the baby."

"Yeah, right. That's impossible for Flack and you know it."

Sam nodded and swirled her spoon through her soup. "I love him to death, Carmen. But sometimes...he's so goddamn overprotective. And I hate to sound like an ungrateful bitch saying that, because he's my everything and I don't know what I'd do without him, but he gets on me about everything! About what I'm eating and how he doesn't think I take good enough care of myself."

"Honestly, Sam, and you can smack me if you want, but I'm on Flack's side here. You don't get enough sleep even though the doctor told you to get better rest, you don't avoid stress and you're trying to do all the same tasks at work that you were doing before you ever got pregnant. You need to take it easy girl. Okay? 'Cause I don't want anything happening to you, or my godson or daughter that you're hauling around."

"I promise I'll try, Carmen. It's hard for me. Accepting I can't do things."

"It's not that you can't. It's just that that little baby in there needs you do not do them."

"True." Sam agreed and finished off her tea.

"You know what you need?" Carmen asked. "You need to go and sit in a steaming hot bubble bath and read a good book and just relax. A pamper mommy session. Or even light some candles and turn all the lights out and just sit in there."

Sam sighed contently at the thought. "That does sound nice." she said.

"Go. Take care of yourself for a change. Then put on your warmest pyjamas and get out here and we'll watch some t.v. and eat some Ben and Jerry's straight from the carton and pick out all the things we're gonna buy for little Flack in there. God, I just got the shivers thinking about there being another Flack in this world."

Sam laughed. "I said the same thing yesterday. We were sitting on the couch and he's reading that expectant father book and I just looked at him and said, God help me. Another you to put up with."

"And what did he say?"

"He said, at least it's not a full Ross."

Carmen laughed as well. "Leave it to Flack to have something like that to say."

"No kidding. He's a character."

"And you love everything about him." Carmen said with a smile.

She didn't deny it. Truth was, she couldn't. She'd rather have him, little flaws and quirks and things that drove her mad, then not have him at all.

* * *

She'd fallen asleep in the tub. When nearly forty five minutes had passed and there was no sound or movement coming from the bathroom, Carmen had gotten worried and rushed inside fearing the worst, only to find Sam, sunk low in the tub, now luke warm water to her chin, fast asleep. It had struck Carmen how pure and innocent and care free her friend looked when she was sleeping. Like a little girl. And wished for a moment Sam could only feel that way in her awake state. Then the thought passed and Carmen was shaking her awake and giving her shit and scolding her for nearly drowning herself in the bathtub.

Now they sat on the couch, Sam in a pair of cozy flannel pyjamas, eating ice cream straight out of the container and watching a repeat of The O.C. Carmen even commented how Sam and that Rachel Bilson who played Summer could pass for twin sisters.

"Don loves her." Sam said. "I think he's moved on from his Jennifer Aniston pervert thoughts to her. Did I tell you some guy on the street made a comment last week that Don looks like my older brother?"

"Now that brings a whole new meaning to the word incestuous." Carmen said, waving her spoon at her playfully. "Especially considering what you two get up to."

Sam giggled. "It's scandalous. He wasn't impressed by that comment. I told him it's all the grey hair. Makes him look older. Hot as hell, mind you. He said it's because I look like I'm fifteen so when we're together, people think he's some perverted old man."

"Well they have him pegged on the perverted part." Carmen concluded.

"Yes," Sam laughed. "They do."

"You hear from your folks at all?" Carmen asked curiously.

"I talked to my mom the night I decided not to go. She understood. She said she was proud of me for making that decision and that I did the right thing. My dad..." Sam sighed and helped herself to some ice cream. "He's another story. He's all but forbidden her to talk to me and she has to sneak calls and e-mails when he's not around. And he's been calling here and I've been ignoring him. I have to erase the messages before Don gets home so he doesn't freak."

"I'm sorry things turned out this way, Sam." Carmen said sincerely.

"So am I. But maybe with time, he'll come around. He was pissed when Adam decided to leave Phoenix and come back here for school. Swore up and down he'd never talk to him again. It didn't last long."

"You're dad is major protective."

"You think? Yet he took so easily to Zack. That I don't get. Mind you, Zack was a master at fooling people. Putting on this boy next door, everybodies his best friend show and then screwing you over. Yet Don...he's genuine with everything he says and does and my dad can't stand him. I don't get it, Carmen."

"Maybe your dad sees that you and Don are the real deal and he hates the idea of loosing you to him. Especially when you'll be living thousands of miles away. Means he can't protect you so easily."

"Maybe." Sam said with a sigh. "Who knows. But I want him to be in the baby's life. It's his first grandchild. I just want them to have a good relationship. And my mom says he wants that to, but he's too damn stubborn and proud to say it."

"Boy. Is it me or does your dad and Flack sound a lot alike?"

"Scary, huh? Could be why they don't get along. Too much the same. Do you know much about Tim's parents?"

"His parents are both deceased. He has an aunt in Syracuse he's close to that. That helped him on the road to recovery after he got shot. He'd like me to meet her considering she's the closest thing to parents he has."

"Good idea." Sam said. "You know, considering you guys are engaged and all."

"Not engaged." Carmen corrected. "Talking about it. We're engaged once I get that ring on my finger. Which, with Tim, could take another three years."

"You never know," Sam said with a sneeze. "Might be only three days or three months."

Carmen glanced over at he friend. Saw the sheepish, I've said to much look that came across Sam's face. "You know something!" she accused. "Tell me what you know."

"I know nothing." Sam said.

Carmen snatched the carton of ice cream out of her friend's lap, along with the spoon that was halfway to Sam's mouth. "You're a shit liar, Samantha Ross!" she informed her.

"What? Give me back my damn ice cream." Sam leaned forward to grab it, only to have Carmen lay a palm on her forehead to hold her back.

"Tell me what you know and I'll give it back." Carmen told her.

"I know nothing!" Sam insisted. "Stop holding Ben and Jerry hostage."

"You want a peaceful surrender? Tell me what you know."

"Come on! I am not a good negotiator! It's why ESU never let me talk to the bad guys during these situations."

"Samantha, I will rinse it all down the sink." Carmen threatened.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

"Oh I so would." Carmen made to get off the couch.

"Okay!" Sam caved in. "Okay! All I know is that Don went with Tim yesterday to buy the ring on his lunch break. That's all I know."

"Samantha..."

"It is! Don wouldn't tell me anything else! He wouldn't even tell me what it looked like! And I tried to get him to tell me but he wouldn't give in! Not even my special powers worked! And usually oral sex will get him to tell you whatever you want to know. Not even that worked!"

"And you know nothing else?"

"Nothing else. I swear. And Don said that Tim was..." realizing she'd said too much, Sam clamped a hand over her mouth.

"You holding out on me, Ross?"

"No! I swear that...look, all I was going to say was that Tim told Don he was going to wait until New Years Eve do ask but couldn't wait that long and that he was going to do it as soon as possible once he found a nice way to do it."

"Good girl." Carmen said and handed the ice cream and spoon back. "You are a loyal disciple, Sam."

"Please just act surprised. I promised Don I wouldn't say anything. And I don't want Tim thinking Don squealed everything."

"I promise he'll never know we had this conversation." Carmen assured her. "Now quit hogging the ice cream."

The cordless phone resting on the coffee table began to ring and Sam leaned forward to grab it and check call display. She frowned when she was UNKNOWN NAME, UNKNOWN NUMBER.

"Hello?" she answered cautiously.

"Samantha..." that deep commanding voice returned.

"Uh...hi...dad..." she squeaked out.

Carmen's eyes narrowed.

"I want an explanation young lady! A damn good one at that!"

"I already talked to mom about everything. Explained it to her. I am not leaving New York City. My whole life is here. And Don and this baby are my life."

"You're abandoning your family here for some guy you barely know that you just fell into bed with and got knocked up by?"

"That's not how it happened, dad. I didn't just fall into bed with him. I love him. He loves me. We're getting married and we're starting a family and you need to accept that."

"I do not need to accept a goddamn thing!" Sarge raged. "You need to accept that you're screwing up your entire life by getting mixed up with this boy!"

"He's not a boy!" Sam snapped. "He's a man. A damn good, honorable man who works hard and puts his ass and his life on the line every damn day and never asks for, or gets, credit for it! And he loves me and takes good care of me!"

"You listen to me, young lady..."

"No you listen to me! I love him! And I'm proud and honored to be marrying him and having his baby. And he makes me feel loved and safe and protected and there's no fucking way I'm leaving him! Ever!"

Carmen grabbed the phone from her friend's trembling hand and pointed to the spot on the couch beside her. "Sit down." she said.

"Carmen..."

"I said sit down!" she demanded.

Sam sank slowly onto the cushion.

"Hello?" Carmen asked into the phone. "Sarge?"

"Who is this?"he growled. "That Carmen girl who lied to me back when?"

"It is. And I'd do it again. Anything to protect Samantha. And if you cared about her or your unborn grandchild, you knock this shit off. She's under doctor's orders to avoid stress and you've been giving her nothing but."

"Don't talk to me...'

"And if you want a relationship with her or you want to see your grandchild, you'd back off and leave her alone and stop bad mouthing her husband while you're at it. Now I'm hanging up now and I'm going to take care of my best friend because that's what she needs. Not your immature, idiotic bullshit! Good night."

Carmen hung up and turned the ringer off on the phone and tossed it back onto the coffee table.

Sam was staring at her, wide eyed.

"Too much?" Carmen asked, helping herself to some ice cream. "Too little?"

"It was perfect. Thanks, Carmen."

"It's what friends do, sweetie. Take care of each other." she said with a smile. "Always."

* * *

Flack was dragging his feet by the time he unlocked the door and slipped into the sparsely lit apartment. The only light coming from the fluorescent fixture above the kitchen sink, and the soft blue glow cast from the television. It was close to eleven thirty and his aching back and stiff neck and shoulders were begging for relief in the form of an hour under the pounding, steaming shower. He'd all ready popped a percocet the moment he got behind the wheel and the pain was taking forever to dissipate. It was the thing he feared the most about taking prescription meds. That one day, the prescribed doze would cease to work and he'd be forced to take more than what was really necessary, or move onto something more powerful. He was scared to death of becoming a junkie. Of not being able to get through the day without a constant string of narcotics in his system. Suffering like that was a form of weakness. He didn't do weak. Perps could smell weakness from a mile away and take advantage of it.

But he was suffering. He admitted it to himself but no one else. Not even to Sam. He knew she saw the way he struggled most mornings to just get out of bed or even out of a chair, and while she didn't say anything or get on his ass about the pills anymore, he saw the concern in her eyes. Appreciated the way she'd snuggle up behind him at night and without speaking or him asking for it, massaging his throbbing muscles with her warm, tender hands. He'd promised her that for the sake of her and the baby, he'd take the pills and give himself some relief. He didn't want to practically crippled up in ten years, unable to kick around a soccer ball or go skating with his kids. He wanted to do things with them like his old man never did for him. Teach them things and form lasting, loving relationships with them. And he knew he couldn't do it in constant pain. So he reminded himself each and every time he swallowed one of them little white bastard pills that he was doing it for his family. Some days were worse than others. Damp, rainy days like the one he'd just survived through, were enough to have him on his knees begging for mercy.

Carmen's shoes and umbrella were by the door. Her coat still hanging on the knob, almost completely dried. Flack toed off his own shoes and hung both his suit jacket and trench coat in the hall closet and dropped his keys on the top of the microwave. He headed through the kitchen and out into the living room, finding Carmen, her legs stretched out, feet propped on the coffee table, watching a re-run of Everybody Loves Raymond, the volume up just loud enough to hear. Sam was out like a light, stretched out on her side, her feet resting in Carmen's lap and a flannel blanket pulled up to her chin.

"Sorry I'm so late." Flack said, voice quiet, eyes resting on his sleeping wife. He couldn't help but call her that. Because that's the way he looked at her. He didn't need a ring on his finger or piece of paper declaring it. He felt it.

"No worries." Carmen told him. "We had fun. Pigged out on ice cream and Popsicles and had some girl talk."

"So that's why my ears were burning earlier." he said with a grin and tousled Carmen's hair playfully.

"All good, I swear." she laughed.

"You didn't have to stay until the bitter end, Carmen."

"I wanted to." she told him. "Like I said, we had a good time. Nice to spend some time together outside of work."

"She been coughing a lot?"

"Not too bad. She had to use her puffer a couple times but the cold stuff she ate and the chicken noodle soup I made her seemed to do a number on the sore throat. Are you sure it's nothing more than bronchitis?"

"It's what the doctor said." Flack sighed and sank into the easy chair alongside the couch. "Ask me, sounds like damn TB."

"I was going for pneumonia, but yeah. It sounds damn awful."

"Not gone in a week, we're suppose to go for a chest x-ray. And don't look at me like that, yes, I know radiation is not good for the baby. But they gotta find out what's wrong with her."

"Well let's hope it's nothing too serious." Carmen sighed.

"It's always something more, Carmen. It's never simple with me and her." he leaned back in the chair and stretched out his long legs and closed his eyes. "Something or somebody always has to shit all over us."

"Oh God. What now?"

"Just damn Gerrard wanting to put me on straight nights."

"What? Why?"

"He thinks I'd be more productive. 'Cause I'm down two percent in my closed cases."

"Big fucking deal. Has it ever occurred to him that the cases lately have been grotesquely strange and bizarre and maybe you just don't have much to work with?"

"Of course not." Flack said. "It's all my fault. It usually is when it comes to that guy. So much like my old man it makes me sick."

"I take it work did not go well tonight." Carmen commented.

"Whatever." he said dismissively and waved it off. "Once I walk out the precinct doors, it's behind me. All that matters now is what's in front of me."

Carmen smiled.

"How long she been asleep for?"

"Couple of hours. And it's been a quiet, peaceful one. I'll leave it to you to get her into bed." Carmen gently lifted Sam's feet from her lap and slowly stood up, placing her friend's legs on the couch.

"You kidding? I should leave her there and take the bed myself. I've been riding the couch for two days now. She's tiny and fits. Not good when you're six two."

"Leave her on the couch and I beat your ass." Carmen told him.

"Wanna ride home?"

"It's late, Flack. You need rest. You look exhausted."

"I am. But you want a ride home? No way you're taking the subway at this time of night."

"I promised Tim I'd call him no matter what the time so he could come and get me." she pulled her cell phone from her purse resting on the ground and began dialling "You could do me a small favor though." she said as she waited for an answer.

"Sure."

"Wait with me in the lobby?"

"Afraid some of my crazy neighbours will assault you?" he teased, standing up and stretching until his back cracked.

"Nah. I just like having a big, tough good looking cop keep me company. There's some things I need to talk to you about."

"Bad things?" he asked, frowning.

"Just things." she replied.

"When a woman says she wants to talk, it's never good." Flack said.

She offered a re-assuring smile. "I promise I'll be gentle."

* * *

The thing that had bothered Flack the worst about what Carmen had to say to him, was that it was all entirely true. He hadn't noticed that Sam had been increasingly down in the dumps lately because he'd been so focused on work and the baby, forgetting that the mother needed some attention and care and concern too. He had attributed her moods to the elevated levels of pregnancy hormone the doctor had detected. He never stopped to think that it was more mental than it was physical. And the last thing he wanted was to have to send her back to a therapist. Not after she'd all ready come so far.

And the part about giving her a complex by calling her crazy? He certainly never meant it to hurt her in anyway. It had just been light, passing comments he made. He never meant to be disrespectful or mean to her. And if he had have known that that asshole Zack had used that word during many of his verbally abusive tirades, he never would have said it.

Now, as he crouched down in front of the couch and watched her sleep, he realized he had a lot of apologizing to do and questions to ask. And a lot of listening to do.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Samantha..." he said quietly, stroking his knuckles along her cheek. "Samantha...wake up..."

She mumbled and sighed and rolled onto her back. She didn't wake up.

"Samantha..." he repeated, louder this time, fully aware sometimes the woman was such a dead sleeper even a tornado couldn't wake her up. He ran a finger tip down the bridge of her nose. "Samantha..."

"What?" she murmured and rolled over onto her side once more. Facing him.

"I need you to wake up. Come on, Sammie baby. Open your eyes and wake up."

"No." she said and pouted dramatically.

"Can't sleep on the couch all night." he told her, and brushed her hair away from the side of her face and leaned into her to kiss her neck.

She sighed contently.

"Wake up." he said, pressing soft, warm kisses on her smooth, tender skin. Stopping just shy of the hallow of her throat.

"Don't stop." she told him. "In fact, go lower."

He grinned. "I'm being serious here."

"So am I." she told him and her eyes flickered open.

"Hey." he said simply.

"Hey. You just got in?"

"Little while ago. We need to have a little talk."

She yawned noisily. "Now?" she asked.

"Now."

She frowned. "About?"

"Why didn't you tell me about how you've been feeling? Why'd I have to hear it from Carmen?"

"It's just stupid stuff, Don. No big deal."

"It is a big deal when you're this down. And it's not stupid. Obviously means something if it gets you this upset."

"It's nothing." she assured him. "And besides, you don't want to hear me whining and moaning."

"Samantha, we may as well be married all ready. Husbands and wives talk about things. And I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything. So I want you to tell me what's going on in your mind."

"It's nothing. Honest."

"Tell me." he said.

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "I'm tired of feeling like I'm second to your job sometimes. And I know you're trying really, really hard to balance everything, Don, and I love you for that, but for once I'd like to get through a meal without your phone ringing and you being called out and our paths only crossing for a few minutes each day because of separate shifts and you getting called in at the most inopportune times."

"I'm only trying to provide for you and the baby, Samantha. And you are first. The two of you are first. But I want to be able to give you guys everything and I need to work extra hours for that. And I am trying. I really am."

"I know." she said with a smile, laying her hand on the side of his face.

"And?" he pressed.

"I don't like it when you call me crazy." she told him.

"I'm sorry, Samantha. I didn't mean it. I never meant it to be mean and you should have told me that it bothered you and why. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"And all this stuff with my dad..."

"He'll come around eventually. He just needs time to accept everything."

"He called her tonight and got nasty." she admitted.

Flack frowned.

"Carmen handled it. She even hung up on him."

"I'm sorry he's being the way he is."

Sam shrugged. "Not your fault, Don. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Other than knocking up his baby you mean?"

"Only thing wrong with that is the timing. A few months from now and there wouldn't be a problem. And your brother kept calling all night. Five times in an hour. I told him to call you at work or on your cell."

"Well he didn't. What did he want?"

"Just that he needed to borrow some money and asked me if he could come over and borrow some from me."

"What did you say?"

"I told him you're mean and give me a small allowance each week and that I already spent it."

Flack grinned. "Good answer."

"He did however tell me I sounded cute. I told him he sounded cute too."

"You are never answering the phone again." Flack declared.

"Now we have a date next week."

"I realize you're joking, but that is so not funny."

Sam stuck her tongue out at him. "Is he? Cute?"

"No. He's not. He's an ass hole with booze troubles and heavy fists when it comes to his wife. So why would you want to be with him when you all ready have the cute, nice, gentle brother?" he trailed his fingertip along her nose.

"The sex may be better." she teased.

"Want me to take you in the bedroom and prove I'm the better man?" he asked.

She grinned. "Thought you didn't want to get sick."

"Hey, you're talking about my brother. My honor and my ego's been bruised."

"Better make it worth my while. You woke me up from a very nice dream." she said with a yawn. "Becks looked so fine tonight."

Flack snorted and untangled her from the blanket. "He's got nothin' up on me." he told her. "And as for my brother, for my whole family, actually, I'll take care of it." he stood up and leaned over the couch and lifted her up effortlessly, feeling only a slight tinge between his shoulders and in the small of her back.

"Never a doubt in my mind." she said and curled her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder as he headed from the living room and down the hall towards the bedroom. "You gonna indulge me? A little more of what you were doing five minutes ago?" she asked hopefully.

He used his foot to knock open the bedroom door. "I'll indulge you a lot more than that." he promised, and kicked the door shut behind them.

**Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing. Please keep it up!!**

**Today's plugs:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**EvaFlack001: For Kate's Sake**

**hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**


	61. Dating and mating habits

**Dating and mating habits**

"We were strangers on a crazy adventure  
Never dreaming, how our dreams would come true  
Now here we stand, unafraid of the future  
At the beginning with you  
And life is a road that I wanna keep on going  
Love is a river, I wanna keep on flowing  
Life is a road, now and forever, wonderful journey  
I'll be there when the world stops turning  
I'll be there when the storm is through  
In the end I wanna be standing  
At the beginning with you."  
- At The Beginning, Richard Marx

**Thanks to my Montana for her ever present musical genius and to the other me over in England for her constant support and encouragement.**

**And of course, to all of you who continue to read and review. You guys are the reason I do this!**

* * *

By early Saturday evening the stormy weather had long past, but had left a definite bite in the air. The Indian summer that had been predicted by many a forecaster had never materialized and New York City was slipping further and further into an early fall. Leaves on the trees were already beginning to change and would soon be ablaze in stunning displays of vivid orange, red and yellow and Central Park would be awash in colour. The days of shorts and t-shirts were long past and people were already sporting heavy fall coats over long sleeve tops and pants. Over night it had dropped to a just above freezing and Flack had had to get up in the middle of the night and turn on the apartment's heating system. Not to mention it took nearly fifteen minutes to scrap a thin layer of frost off of the SUV's windshield and windows.

Sam had even brought along a blanket to wrap around herself during the ride to the lab. She'd been allowed back to work after a Friday visit to the doctor had proclaimed her well enough to be allowed out into the general public, and Mac had brought her in on the weekend to help out the ever overburdened trace lab. Her fever had long subsided and the chest infection impressively clearing up and her ears unplugged thanks to antibiotic ear drops. Although her throat was still sore and talking difficult, a situation she remedied by sucking on a constant supply of ice cubes or throat lozenges.

Mac had allowed her back but with two strict orders. Take as many sit down breaks as she felt she needed, and make sure she kept fluids in her and ate proper foods. Everyone knew her propensity for not taking a proper break or eating too much junk. It was amazing to them all how she had manage to only gain ten pounds so far. She was getting quite the noticeable bump that wasn't so easy to hide anymore. In fact, she was a week shy of four months but some days looked nearly six. Though no one had the heart to tell her that. Flack had mentioned that maybe it was time they bought her some more maternity clothes. She couldn't get through the next five months on only two pairs of pants, a dress and three tops. She'd given him a hurt, wounded look and asked if he was suggesting she was getting fat. Pregnant, he had corrected, trying to diffuse a volatile situation. Not fat. There's a big difference.

God, he couldn't wait for her hormones to get back in order. The extreme ups and downs and the laughing one minute and the bawling the next was getting to be too much to handle

Flack was yawning as he stepped off the elevator onto the thirty-fifth floor. He'd worked a marathon eighty hours that week and was looking forward to his first Sunday off in nearly three months. A chance to be lazy and stay in bed all day if that's what he felt like. Although every time he said that, he always did the complete opposite. There was laundry that desperately needed to be done and Sam was in dire need of clothes that fit and there was more packing that could be done. There truly was no rest for the weary.

Gus Broussard was waiting by the trace lab. Leaning against the wall across from it actually. In a pair of well fitting jeans and a simple black mock turtleneck and a light suede jacket. Her blond hair loose and flowing and slight makeup gracing her smooth, pretty face. She was an insanely attractive woman. With the brains and body to go with it. And Flack would have had to be completely blind not to have noticed her that day Mac introduced them two years ago when Gus had made an unannounced visit to her 'uncle'. He'd almost called her a few times to ask her out, but something always seemed to come up and he never got the chance. Now he realized that if he had have pursued something with Gus, maybe something would have never happened between him and Sam. And that thought was nearly terrifying. Because he just couldn't imagine his life without Sam in it. In fact, he wondered how he'd ever gotten along without her all these years.

God worked in mysterious ways to say the least.

But Gus Broussard in the crime lab? Flack couldn't find a reasonable explanation for that. Unless she and Sam had made some kind of plans and he'd forgotten all about it. He knew they were planning on meeting for coffee sometime, but he was pretty sure he'd remember something like that had Sam mentioned it.

"So what brings you up the land of the geeks?" Flack asked Gus playfully.

"Same thing that brings you up here, I'm sure. Picking someone up."

"Hope it's not the same person. You and Sam didn't have plans I didn't know about did you?"

"Actually," Gus said, shrugging her purse up onto her shoulder. "I'm here to pick up Adam."

Flack frowned. "Adam?"

Gus nodded. "Adam. As in Adam Ross. You know, AV and computer whiz? Lab tech extraordinaire? Your soon to be brother in law?"

"I know who he is. I just...Adam? And you? Are you serious?"

"We're going to dinner and then bowling." Gus said.

"Bowling?" Flack looked perplexed.

"Are you okay?" Gus asked. "Is there something wrong with your hearing?"

"Just Adam? And bowling? In one night?"

"You've never gone bowling?"

"Sure. I just don't make it a habit. And bowling with Adam?"

Gus nodded.

"Why?" Flack asked.

"Because he asked me out and I like him." Gus explained.

"Adam. As in Adam Ross. My brother in law."

"Jesus, Flack. Are you on drugs or something?" Gus asked. "Is it such a shock I have a date?"

"No." he replied. "It's a shock that Adam has a date. With you."

"Funny, I thought the same thing when I found out Samantha was with you. I thought, what is a nice, sweet girl doing with Don Flack?"

"You wound me Gus. You really do."

She grinned. "Turns out you were corrupting her."

Flack laughed. "Trust me, it's the other way around."

"How you coping with future parenthood?" Gus asked.

Flack shrugged. "Okay...we've got some tests we need to have in a few weeks and we start those birthing/parenting classes or whatever in December. You know, breathing exercises, the labor experience, all that crap."

"You're actually going to those?" Gus sounded, and looked, surprised.

"Yeah...why?"

"Just doesn't seem like something you'd do."

"Never had a kid before." Flack reasoned. "Figure more I know about the entire thing, the better off I'll be. And the more likely it is that Sam might not kill me while she's in labor."

"And the tests?"

Flack tried to shrug it off, although deep down it hurt like a sonofabitch to think about it. He was always convincing himself that it didn't matter if his kid had something wrong with them. That he'd love them no matter what. And it was true. But at the same time, when and if the realization hit that there was a problem, he'd be devastated.

"Just some follow up stuff. Bad results on her triple screen test. They want to check some things out."

"How are you guys doing with that?" Gus asked gently.

"This considered a session?" Flack teased.

"Consider it a friend asking a friend." Gus told him.

"We're doing okay." Flack said. "First time we heard it, it hit us pretty hard. But we're coping and decided what's done is done and if there's anything to be concerned about, we'll deal with it as it comes."

"Still a shock though." Gus reasoned. "Even if you are preparing yourself for it."

Flack nodded. "We're trying to be positive. Not always easy."

"No." Gus sighed. "It's not. And Sam? How is she doing?"

"Well..." Flack said with a shrug of his shoulders, and didn't get to continue as Sam was stepping out of the locker room a hundred yards down the hall. He smiled brightly at her, thinking how damn beautiful she was in a simple pair of black dress pants and a deep purple blouse that tied at the small of her back, accentuating that tiny bit of a belly.

"Hey, Gus." Sam greeted, slipping into her sweater coat. "Here to take my brother out and whip his ass at bowling are you?"

"To keep his masculinity in tact, I will say he is taking me out." Gus said with a grin. "But yes, I plan on schooling him."

"They all need that from time to time." Sam agreed.

"Look at you!" Gus exclaimed, reaching out and laying a gentle hand on Sam's stomach. "Showing all ready huh?"

"Unfortunately." Sam sighed. "I thought for sure nothing would be noticeable until at least five months."

"You look amazing." Gus assured her. "Pregnancy suits you."

Sam laughed. "Don't give Don any ideas. He had his way I'd be popping kids out left right and centre."

"I never said that." Flack corrected her. "I said one every one and half, two years."

"You wish." Sam said. "The day you can physically carry a child is the day you can bring as many as your little heart desires into the world. Until then, you're on my schedule."

Adam came rushing out of the lab, pulling on a baggy denim coat as he came and attempting to smooth down his unruly hair. "Hi..." he said to Gus. "Sorry that took so long. Someone labelled all the samples from Danny's case wrong and I had to go through everything and re-label and re-categorize them and then send them back through GC/MS..." he took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "It was just a big old mess." he concluded.

"It's okay." Gus assured him, touching his arm softly.

Adam blushed a million different shades of red at the simple gesture. "We, uh, we should get going...the lane is booked for eight and its all ready twenty after seven and if we want to grab a bite before we start..."

"We should get a move on." Gus agreed. "Nice seeing you again, Flack."

"You, too." he said.

"Samantha, I'll call you for that coffee." Gus told her as she and Adam started down the hall.

"Anytime." Sam called after her. "You two be good. Adam, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That doesn't leave much." he teased. "Is there anything you won't do?"

"Very goddamn funny!" Sam yelled after him. "Peanut!"

Adam glared at her over his shoulder at the use of his childhood nickname infront of Gus.

"What?" Sam asked Flack, noticing he was staring at her.

"You knew and didn't tell me?" he looked offended.

"Tell you what?"

"Your brother and Gus. Why didn't you tell me?"

"What's the big deal? They're going out on a date. They like each other. So?"

"So? This is Adam. And Gus. She's so..." Flack searched for an appropriate word. "And he's so..."

"Be nice." Sam scolded him. "That's my brother."

"I'm just saying that they're two totally different people. She's so attractive and intelligent and he's so...so Adam."

Sam frowned. "You are not winning any Brownie points with me right now. He's my little brother. And you know how protective I am of my little brother."

"I don't mean it that way. I'm just...surprised. They're complete opposites. That's all." he laid a hand on the small of her back and bent down to give her a soft kiss. "I didn't mean anything against your brother. And tell me this, if you guys are related, how come he's the sane one?"

Sam elbowed him in the stomach. "You promised me you wouldn't say stuff like that anymore!"

"I'm just joking. You know that."

"You are so not getting laid tonight." she huffed and stalked off down the hall.

He quickly fell in step beside her and took her hand. "Yes I am." he said with a grin. "'Cause you know you'd be suffering just as much as I would."

She fought back a smile as she pressed the down button for the elevator. "So where are we going tonight?" she asked.

"Home. Why?"

"Thought you said you were taking me out tonight."

"Changed my mind."

She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's 'cause you think I'm fat, don't you." she stated.

"What? No. That's not it. I don't think you're fat."

"You don't want to take me out 'cause you find me fat and unattractive." she continued. The hurt evident in her voice.

"No. That's not it."

"Don't lie. It only makes it worse when you lie. So just admit it. You don't take me anywhere 'cause you think I'm fat and ugly and this is just a sex thing for you."

"Samantha..." he stepped in front of her and laid his hands on her shoulders. "I don't think you're fat and unattractive. I find you amazingly beautiful and sexy and I love you and you're having our equally as beautiful baby. You need to knock this irrational, hormonal stuff off. Okay?"

"But you said..."

"That I was taking you out. I know. And I was just trying to have some fun with you. Which lately, I haven't been able to do without hitting the wrong nerve and sending you off into a temper tantrum. Look..." he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out two slips of paper. "I even went to buy the tickets early. Nine thirty showing of that Colin Farrell movie you want to see so bad. And I even made us reservations at that little Italian place you like for eight."

"Oh." she said, a sheepish look crossing her face as she looked at the tickets. "Sorry. I guess I over-reacted."

"You think? You really need to start taking it easy, Samantha. And start having a little more faith in me."

"I know." she said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

He kissed her softly. "You can make it up to me later." he said with a grin.

"I've decided something." Samantha suddenly announced as they pulled into the parking lot of the quaint Italian restaurant three blocks from the lab.

* * *

It was a small red brick building with black canopies over the two front windows and front entrance and white lights twinkling in the shrubs that lined the wall under each window. That evening's specials written in chalk and mounted on a black board next to the front door. It was family owned and had been there for over half a century, yet neither of them had set foot in it or even noticed it until two months ago when Stella and Mac came into work talking about how great the food and service was and how romantic of a setting it was in. Someone just had to say the word romance within a hundred feet of Samantha and she was all over it. She was always after Flack to be more romantic. He tried. He wasn't the hearts and flowers and love poems kind of guy. She accepted that. But at least he gave it some sort of valiant effort and she appreciated it.

"Jesus..." Flack said, cutting the ignition. "This better now be another I'm going to Arizona announcements. 'Cause this time, I'll pack your bags for you."

"Don't be silly." she scolded him. "All I was going to say was that I decided I wanted to start planning for the baby. You know, look around at stuff we're going to need to buy, how we're going to do the whole birth thing. What we're going to name him or her."

"You just decided that now?" he asked. "Out of the blue?"

"I've been thinking about it for a couple days." she replied. "Just now that we've come to a definite decision about the tough stuff, I feel more ready to do other things. Happier things. Especially now that I'm almost out of the first trimester."

He was relieved to hear her say all of that. Because he was starting to get a little concerned that she wasn't too excited about the prospect of being a mother. That she just kind of accepted it because it was so unexpected and sudden and wouldn't ever think of doing anything to get rid of it. That maybe she was just doing it out of some feeling of obligation to him. That, God forbid, she didn't really want the baby. He'd secretly called the doctor about his concerns, and she put his mind at ease saying that some women suffered from pre-partum depression. And that not all mothers felt that instant bond with their unborn child. And to just give Samantha some time and she'd come around on her own.

And it looked as though the doctor had been right.

"You had me a little worried there for a while." Flack said.

"Why's that?"

"You just haven't seem too thrilled lately about the entire baby thing." he told her. "It was freaking me out a bit."

"It's not that I wasn't thrilled." she said. "More that I was scared about there being something wrong and whether we'd be able to cope if there was. And I had this inane fear that if we do things too early we'll somehow jinx it. The miscarriage rate in the first trimester is high for first time pregnancies and I just didn't want us doing all this stuff and getting too attached and having our hearts broken."

He smiled at her. "I think that's the most you've opened up to me in the entire six months we've been together." he said.

"You know I don't open up that easily." she reminded him.

"I know. But I wish you would."

"I know you do. Just give me time. Okay? Just a little time."

"Just figured we're getting married and having a baby, you should feel you can open up to me about anything." Flack said.

"Don, you know I love you. More than anything. And I know you love me..."

"More than anything." he tossed in.

"But we both know that this is still a pretty new relationship and we're still practically getting to know each other completely. Hell, people who are married for years sometimes don't even know each other completely for a long time. I think both of us need to give each other some time on a few things. There's things you don't open up to me about."

"Like?"

"The bombing for one. You've just told me the basics. You've never gone into detail about anything."

"Just don't see the reason." Flack said. "That part of my life is long gone."

"It was only two years ago." she pointed out. "And you still won't tell me about this Gavin Moran I keep hearing about."

He sighed. "Good point. And I told you, when I'm ready to tell you, I will."

"Just like when I'm ready to tell you certain things, I will." she told him.

He smirked and shook his head. "I can never win with you. You always have to have the last word. Get one up on me."

"I am way too quick for you, Detective Flack." she laughed and leaned across the seat to kiss him. "Now how about you feed me and your monster of a child?"

He smiled and kissed her back and laid a hand on her stomach. "I think you're amazing and you're insanely beautiful and I thank god every day for the day you were born." he said, his voice quiet, sincere, looking deep into those golden eyes.

Tears shone in her eyes. "That is the most incredible thing anyone has ever said to me." she told him, and kissed him softly.

"And I can't wait to marry you and for our baby to be born. For us to be a family."

"We are a family." she said, holding his hand to her stomach and resting her forehead on his. "A little one, but a family nonetheless."

"I don't know what I'd ever do without you." he told her.

She gave a small smile. "You'd figure it out." she said.

* * *

Gus couldn't remember the last time she had laughed as much as she had been for the last two hours. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever laughed that much period. She'd been on several casual dates in the past years since the disastrous end to an equally, if not more, disastrous relationship, yet none of them men had appealed to her enough to accept offers of coffee or night caps afterwards or agree to second dates. It was hard trusting a man with her heart again, and found she judged them all before she ever really gave them a chance. Her own worst enemy really, because truth to be told, the majority were stunningly attractive and well educated and would have made ideal relationship material. Yet they just seemed to damn boring sometimes.

She wanted someone that wasn't afraid to let their hair down and throw caution to the wind and wouldn't care about people laughing at them, or with them. Someone with an easy going, affable personality that didn't get too worked up or frazzled, who just rolled with the punches and took things as they came. Someone with good manners and a sharp wit and gentle yet passionate disposition.

Someone like Adam Ross.

He had a great personality once he got over his initial bumbling, awkward way. He was light hearted and fun yet had the most gentlemanly way about him. Always opening doors and insisting on paying for everything and letting her go first whenever they tried talking at the same time or when they went to do an activity in unison. And he was insanely intelligent and could carry on a conversation better than anyone she had ever come across. He knew a little bit about everything and a whole lot about his job and anything that had to do with science, science fiction, or computers. And it was quite evident he was very close to his sister. And thought very, very highly of her. He steered away from talking about his childhood in New York City, safe for some memories he had of him and Sam playing in the park and plotting how they would escape their lives. He stuck to talk about their later years in Arizona and how their mother turned her life around, and theirs, and how much Clint had meant to them. He was disappointed with the way his father was acting but didn't elaborate and Gus didn't push it.

He was an avid, patient listener. And he asked a lot of questions and showed a lot of interest in her life. She steered clear of past relationship talk. Not only did she not feel comfortable talking about that with a guy on a first date (God, she was hoping he was just as into her and wanted more than one date), she also knew it was potential relationship suicide. And she really wanted this to turn into more than dinner and bowling.

It was frightening to feel that way about someone so soon, yet welcoming at the same time. Anything that felt that good could go one of two ways. Either it was too good to be true, or it was way too good to be wrong. She hoped it was the latter. Because a guy as genuine and sweet and down to earth as Adam Ross was a once in a life time deal.

And as she sat there beside him in that noisy, crowded bowling alley, watching as he tallied up their scores from the last seven games they had spent more time goofing off and talking through then actual bowling, she was thinking all these things and more. About how adorable he was with his lovely turquoise eyes and his impossibly long lashes and smooth skin and his lazy, boyish smile. That unruly hair she was desperately wanted to rake her fingers through. And those lips...she wondered what those lips would feel like against her own. And his hands. Big, strong looking hands that she imagined would feel so soft and could do some amazing things.

She felt herself flush from head to toe and looked away from him, taking a sip of her bottled water in order to cool herself down a bit.

"You won." Adam announced as he finished adding their scores.

"I what?"

"Won. The prove is right here. And you won by a pretty good spread, too. Five games out of seven at that. Thought you said you weren't much of a bowler."

"I'm not. Maybe this is just my lucky night." she teased and leaned into him.

"Maybe." he said with that boyish grin.

"Could be your lucky night too." she boldly commented.

He looked perplexed. "What do you..."

She decided to just take the bull by the horns and took his face in her hands and kissed him. A long, toe curling kind of kiss that left them both breathless. And wanting more.

"How far away do you live from here?" Gus asked.

"I...uh...I ..." Adam couldn't form a proper thought, never mind a sentence. His mind was reeling from what was possibly the most amazing kiss he'd ever received. "I live...about...ten minutes from here."

"Good. I'm about twenty." Gus yanked off her bowling shoes and shoved her feet into her shoes and jumped up and grabbed her coat and her purse. "Are you coming?" she asked.

"Where?" he responded, starry eyed.

"To your place. You know, to see just how lucky your night might turn out."

"You mean..."

"I ain't talking about video games either." Gus told him.

"So you mean, me and you..."

"That's exactly what I mean."

Adam Ross had never moved so quick in his entire life.

* * *

"I can't believe it." Speed said as he approached the familiar face at the snack counter at the multiplex in mid-town. "You two do actually leave the bedroom."

"Miracles never cease to exist." Flack laughed. "There is more to life you know. We do go out on dates when and if we ever manage to have some time off on the same days."

"Remember," Speed said seriously. "No sex in the theatre. Okay?"

"Why do you think we're planning on sitting in the very back?" Flack asked with a grin.

"Totally just stole my idea for me and Carmen." Speed complained, giving his snack and drink order to the bubbly high school age girl behind the counter.

"Are you stalking me Speedle or is this just a weird coincidence?" Flack asked, handing forty bucks over to the cashier to pay for the unbelievably large amount of junk food spread out on the counter.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Which movie you guys going to see?"

"Some damn cop movie with Colin Farrel that Sam only wants to go to because she thinks he's cute. As if I don't get enough of the job in real life, I have to see a movie with it too? Bad enough she watches those damn DEA and Crimescene 360 shows. You think she'd get tired of stuff like that."

"Probably the cop fetish." Speed reasoned. "You know she's only with you 'cause of the gun and cuffs right?"

"And the kevlar. Don't forget that. She has a strange obsession with the bullet proof vest."

"Carmen and her are way too much alike." Speed declared. "It's frightening. She's making me see the same damn movie all 'cause she thinks this guy is cute."

"Same way we only watch certain things 'cause of the women in it?" Flack asked.

"Yeah. But we don't come right out and admit it. These two are just open and honest about it."

"Sam is brutally honest sometimes." Flack admitted, pocketing the change the cashier handed to him. "But I just keep going back for more."

"It's like a damn drug." Speed complained. "Bad crack. We really have to start saying no more often."

"Yeah, right." Flack chuckled. "Sam doesn't take no for an answer. Trust me."

"Which is why she's four months pregnant."

"Exactly. And making me go bankrupt with the amount of food she can eat."

"Well she is eating for two." Carmen reasoned, catching the tail end of the conversation as she and Sam, who'd met up in the bathroom, joined them.

"Or three." Speed said. "Or four. Or five."

"No way in hell." Sam declared. "One at a time is enough for me. And if this," she pointed to her stomach. "all ready looks like this with one, imagine what two would look like."

"I think you're adorable." Carmen said, and gently rubbed her friend's stomach. "I think you're both adorable." she said in a high pitched, baby voice.

"Oh God," Speed complained. "Here she goes again. Every time she rubs the stomach she talks like that."

"Wait until she's really showing." Carmen told him. "Then I'll really go to town."

"It's okay." Sam said. "Don talks to it like it can talk back."

"I do not." he argued, handing her a drink of cherry kool-aid to carry.

"Don't lie. Last night you were giving play by play of the Mets versus Cardinals."

"Might be a baseball fan." Flack reasoned.

"Might also be a girl." Carmen added.

"Hey, it's a boy all right." Flack told her. "I just know it is. Trust me. My first born is going to be a boy. Only boys give women this hard of a time."

"Exactly." Sam agreed, helping herself to some of his popcorn.

"You said you wanted nachos and cheese." Flack said.

"I do. But you can share your popcorn, too."

"See what I put up with?" Flack asked Carmen and Speed. "She's eating me out of house and home. And it's all crap, too."

"Here." Carmen opened her purse and pulled out a gigantic bag of skittles. "Sit next to me and we'll eat ourselves silly."

"Skittles!" Sam exclaimed like a kid on Christmas morning unwrapping the toy she so desperately wanted all year round. "My favorite!"

"Fuck, Carmen," Flack complained. "Don't encourage her. Especially with the junk food. The doctor's all ready given her the gestational diabetes lecture. I'm trying to get her to eat at least some good food. She's all ready been cut off pop and chocolate."

"Ooops." Carmen said. "Guess you didn't hear about the huge thing of Chunky Monkey the two of us polished up at your place the other night."

Flack stared at Samantha, an eyebrow arched.

"I couldn't help it!" Sam wailed. "It's my weakness."

"Is that what you'll be saying when the kid arrives two months earlier cause you've been poisoning him with crap?"

"Don't be so dramatic." she complained and sipped his Coke.

"Do you mind?" he asked. "Seriously. Don't be so damn difficult."

"You knocked me up, deal with." Sam told him, then she and Carmen linked arms and headed for the theatre.

"You're life is never gonna be the same, Flack." Speed commented. "She's either gonna make ya or break ya."

"It's way too late for that." he said. "It happened a long time ago."

* * *

The movie ended at quarter to midnight. The entire two plus hours had been the girls exchanging comments about how hot and sexy Colin Farrel looked in a uniform and Flack and Speed critiquing the so called police maneuvers and interrogation and arresting techniques. It happened every time either of them watched crime shows at home, too. They would spend the entire show picking out all the inaccuracies and offering up opinions and suggestions on how thing should have gone and what questions should have been asked and things are not as easy as the shows make it seem. Which was why Sam refused to watch any crime show with Flack in the room. She was able to turn off her cop side and just watch things for pure entertainment sake. It was impossible for him to completely turn off his cop side. He'd been doing it, and devoted to it, for just too long.

They decided to take a short walk to the next block and grab a coffee at the Starbucks. None of the group was schduled to work the next day and no one was in a hurry for the night to end. Not to mention Carmen and Sam had expressed extreme interest in having something for dessert. The two girls walked ahead, chatting and window shopping, while Flack and Speed walked dutifully behind, trying hard not to talk about work and failing miserably.

The small group had just rounded the corner to the coffee shop when two familiar faces, hand in hand, stepping up onto the curb.

"Hey guys." Stella greeted cheerfully as the couples met in the middle of the sidewalk. "Where are you all heading from?"

"We went and saw that new Colin Farrell movie." Sam explained. "And when we ran into Carmen and Tim there. What are you guys up to?"

"Mac and I went to a late showing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and then out to dinner." Stella said "You know, this is weird seeing all you guys here. Because we saw Danny and Erica as we were getting off the subway earlier and they were heading home from the Yankees game and then when we were at the restaurant, we saw Hawkes leaving with Angell."

"Hawkes?" Carmen asked.

"And Angell?" Sam sounded mortified.

"Apparently they were on a date." Mac said.

"Together?" Sam couldn't get her head around that one.

"That's just plain disturbing." Speed said. "Nice, decent guy with someone like her. Did he seem into her?"

"Not really." Stella admitted. "She seemed into her, though."

Flack snorted. "Why am I not surprised. You think that's weird, guess who else is on a date tonight."

"Gus and Adam?" Mac guessed. "I saw Gus come into the lab and she told me all about it."

"Now there's a unique couple." Stella commented. "Kinda opposites."

"Hey, as long as their happy, it's all good," Speed reasoned. "And you know, I have seem stranger things happen. I mean, shit, Sam and Flack for instance."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Flack asked.

"It means she's so Sam and you're so Flack." Mac replied.

"Just say it, Mac." Speed said. "Don't try and spare his feelings. Just say, she's so sweet and cute and you're just a big asshole."

"Well, I was going to be a little more diplomatic." Mac laughed.

"You guys are all a bunch of goddamn comediennes." Flack said. "I'm the best thing that's ever happened to her."

"I wouldn't go that far." Sam teased him. "You're in my top ten."

"Yeah," Speed added. "Like at number nine."

"I actually had him more around five." Sam said.

"You're way too generous." Speed told her.

Everybody laughed and then settled into a comfortable silence.

"You all want to join us for coffee?" Mac asked. "My treat?"

"Dessert too?" Sam asked hopefully.

Flack was shaking his head over top of her.

"Sure." Stella ignored him, wrapping one arm around Sam, the other around Carmen, and leading them towards the shop. "Biggest piece of cheesecake I can find you."

Flack sighed and shook his head and followed behind.

"She has so broken you." Speed laughed.

"It's okay, Flack." Mac chuckled. "It's not as painful as that seems. You get used to it. Trust me."

"What was that?" Stella asked over her shoulder.

"I didn't say a word." Mac replied.

"That's what I thought." Stella said and winked at him.

"We are so screwed." Speed declared.

**Please keep R and R ing, I greatly appreciate it. Keep it up.**

**Today's plugs:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**EvaFlack001: For Kate's Sake**

**Madison Bellows: What it Means, Positive**

**hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**

**laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**Forest Angel: Coming Home**


	62. Sunday surprises

**Sunday surprises**

**THANKS TO EVERYONE THAT VOTED FOR ME IN THE FAN FICTION AWARDS. YOU'RE SUPPORT IS GREATLY APPRECIATED.**

**A/N: Keep looking out for a new fic. I am working on that involves Sam Ross and our favourite ME turned CSI, Hawkes. A great pairing now being introduced over in Aphina's Devine Intervention. My fic will be a spin off from her genius.**

"Never knew I had a dream  
Until that dream was you  
When I look into your eyes  
The sky's a different blue  
Cross my heart  
I wear no disguise  
If I tried, you'd make believe  
That you believed my lies

You pick me up when I fall down  
You ring the bell before they count me out  
If I was drowning you would part the sea  
And risk your own life to rescue me  
Lock the doors  
We'll leave the world outside  
All I've got to give to you  
Are these five words when I  
Thank you for loving me  
For being my eyes  
When I couldn't see  
You parted my lips  
When I couldn't breathe  
Thank you for loving me."  
-Thank You for Loving Me, Bon Jovi

* * *

Flack nearly had a panic attack the minute he walked in the front door of that massive, excessively bright and noisy Toys R Us store located in Times Square. He'd walked by it many a time in all the years that he, and it had taken up residence in the city, yet he'd never put even one toe through that door. Even when his niece and nephew came along, he'd simply just thrown money in their birthday or Christmas cards and that was that. It's not that he didn't like kids. Hell, he loved kids. He just disliked the mess and disorder and all the damn havoc they brought with them. So the minute he'd pushed open that door and was greeted by the ear splitting squeals and shrieks of excited children and the odd couple of kids throwing Exorcist inspired temper tantrums over not getting something they wanted, his chest immediately began to tighten and sweat beaded on his forehead. His first initial thought was 'goddamn fucking brats' followed by 'what the hell am I doing here?' Only to be snapped back to reality by his future wife all but dragging him by the hand to the back of the crowded, mad house of a store to a section that was clearly and brightly labeled BABIES R US.

Then it hit him like a kick in the stomach. He was having a kid. All the books he'd been reading and ultrasound pictures he coveted and passed around like they were more precious than the shroud of Turin had not yet totally made the realization sink in that this was actually happening. He was going to be a father. To a child that would one day be bringing their own ball of mass confusion and hysteria into the world. He would one day be that father in aisle ten red face and humiliated and mortified by the fact he couldn't control a wailing three year old or the one that just couldn't say no despite the fact that so many toys are being added to the shopping cart that he'd have to work three jobs just to cover the cost. And just as he was beginning to ask himself how the hell he'd ever gone from hanging out with the boys with some beers and a game on Saturday night to worrying about college tuition and driver's licenses, he was standing amidst a sea of cribs and strollers and clothes that didn't look like they'd fit on a teddy bear let alone a human being.

How in the hell did I get here? he thought, feeling as if he was in a complete daze, as if things were being pointed out to him in a language he didn't quite understand. Was that English? Because if it was, something was either wrong with his brain or his ears, because it sounded like a whole lot of nothing. Like trying to hear underwater or being in that half asleep state where noises just seemed so far away. The only thing he was aware of was that his chest was aching and the back of his neck and forehead were covered in sweat and was literally terrified of the next eighteen years that lay ahead of him. He was thankful for that tiny, soft hand clasped tightly in his, because it was the only thing keeping him anchored on the ground. And then he remembered that the reason he was here was because of whom that tiny hand belonged to. The most amazing, loving, incredible woman he'd ever met. Who come into his life was suddenly and unexpectedly and transformed it, and him, into something surreal.

Someone he just couldn't say no to. That's why we're here. Because I didn't say no. But then again, neither did she. And it was a hell of a lot of fun at the time.

He felt immensely guilty that he wished at that moment to be anywhere but there. Home in bed, doing laundry, hell, cleaning the toilet even. All the talking he had done about wanting to prepare things and get things ready had come back to bite him in the ass. Because the initial planning stage had begun and he was scared to death. Just what in the hell was a diaper genie? And an exersaucer? Or a snugly? What kind of foreign language were these people speaking?

And now, as he stood in the middle of that baby section, plotting how he was going to escape, said girl who just couldn't say no was standing at the side of a cherry oak crib with white eyelet bedding, a pen and notebook in hand and a bright smile on her face that said she was both pleased and that he better get out his MasterCard.

"Do you like this?" Sam asked, running a hand over the glossy, smooth wood.

"Do you?" he asked in return, stepping alongside of her.

"That's not what I asked. I asked if you liked it."

God, why did women have to make things so difficult? He could tell by the smile on her face and that twinkle in her eye that she liked it. A lot. And that really, she was most likely just asking his opinion so he'd feel like he actually had a say in the whole thing.

"Not really." he admitted, then watched her face and waited for a look of disappointment to cross it, to which he'd say that it really didn't matter to him and whatever she wanted was fine with him. But no look came. Instead she just simply began browsing once more.

"Well what do you like?" Sam asked.

Flack shrugged.

"Well you must like something."

"It's a crib. Somewhere for the baby to sleep. What's there to like?"

She frowned. "There's like twenty different types. You must like at least one."

He sighed and looked around and did indeed, to even his own amazement, find something that caught his eye. He wasn't sure if it was the crib itself or the fact that it was decked out in sports theme bedding, but he was immediately drawn to it.

"I like this." he said.

Sam had to admit that she did too. A natural wood finish with spindle style slats. And a navy blue patchwork style comforter that had patterns in different sports shapes on it. Footballs and soccer balls and baseballs and even a hockey stick and a puck. The mobile that accompanied the crib for display purposes had teddy bears in sports jerseys dangling from it. Now if they only knew for sure that it was a boy, they'd be all set.

"How much is it?" she asked, joining him at the side of the crib.

Flack lifted a large, clear covered plastic price tag attached to the head board. "You really want to know?" he asked, one look telling him that this baby thing was way more expensive than he ever anticipated.

"We're here to get prices." Sam reminded him. "Not actually buy anything."

Yeah, right, Flack thought. This coming from the woman who couldn't stop buying things. "Fifteen hundred." he told her.

Her eyes widened as she jotted down the price and make of the crib.

"We all ready said anything below two grand was all good." he pointed out.

"We should still look at a couple more." she suggested.

"Why? If this is the one we both like then why do we have to look at anything else?" Flack asked. "Let's just get what we want and that's that."

"We're just browsing remember." she said.

"Whatever. You like it, I like it. Let's just get it."

She put a huge check mark by the word crib written in her note book while he took out a slip of paper at the back of the price tag that you were suppose to give to the cashier so she could get a stock boy to bring the thing to your car for you.

"Now can we go?" Flack asked hopefully.

"We still have to look at bedding and mobiles and a travel system." she replied.

"A who and a what?" he asked. "What the hell is a travel system?"

"It's a car seat stroller combination." she explained, leading the way to the bedding section.

"We need one of those?" he asked, following.

"If we plan on taking the baby for walks and in the car." she replied. "What kind of bedding do you like?"

"I don't know. Whatever was on the crib we just bought."

"We need something that can be for a boy or a girl." Sam told him.

"That can be for a boy or a girl." he said.

Sam arched an eyebrow.

"Could be a girl that really likes sports." Flack reasoned.

"Let's leave the bedding until the next ultrasound." Sam suggested. "They might be able to tell us what we're having for sure."

"Still think it can be for a boy or a girl." Flack said and followed behind her. Only to get side tracked by a small table set up with catalogues spread across it and a small sign that read: SIGN UP FOR OUR REGISTRY. "Why don't we sign up for this." he said to him, as she stepped up beside him. "Fill all this stuff out, it gets e-mailed and what not to all our friends and they buy the baby stuff from the store. What more could you ask for?"

"Who says our friends are going to be buying the baby stuff?"

"Please. You've never heard of a baby shower?" he grabbed a pamphlet with all then information they'd need and headed for the stroller section. "Jesus Christ." he said, shaking his head at the enormous display of strollers. "Is it really necessary to have that many?"

"Big selection." Sam agreed. "Now I heard Evenflo is like the best."

"Whatever. Whatever you want, sweetie. You like it, get it. Within reason."

"You just had to throw that in." she said with a sigh. "That's the one I like…" she pointed to a Burberry stroller/cat seat combo. "But it's way too expensive."

"You can't know that just looking at it."

"Trust me. It's at least a grand."

"Get outta here. A grand? For a stroller?"

Sam nodded. "It's a Bugaboo."

"A what?"

"A Bugaboo." she repeated. "Stroller of choice among celebrities."

"If it's the one you like then…" Flack checked the price tag. And nearly fainted. "Nine hundred dollars? Nine hundred dollars for a stroller or a travel system or whatever the hell you want to call it? Why?"

"It's apparently the best one out there." Sam said.

"Nine hundred dollars. For a stroller and a car seat. People are crazy. Does the baby know it cost nine hundred? No. Just something for 'em to lounge in while someone else pushes 'em around. The kid isn't going to care if we spent nine hundred or three hundred. Only people that would even know how much this costs by looking at it, are the celebrities or the upper class that don't even associate with city workers like us. And we sure as hell can't afford a nine hundred dollar stroller even if both of us were paying for it."

"I didn't say I wanted it." Sam told him. "I said that I liked it. It would be my dream purchase."

"Well keep dreaming sweetie 'cause the only way you're getting that is if you marry the Donald."

She smiled and rubbed his back. "Your name is Donald." she teased him.

"I meant as in Donald Trump."

"Ewww." she said with a grimace. "No thanks. I'll just keep you. Even if you do have more grey hair than he does."

He grinned and laid his hand on the small of her back and kissed the side of her head. "Remind me to kick your ass later. Do we really need to be looking at all of this stuff so soon? Can't we just buy the crib and call it a day here? It's not like we have a place to put tons of baby stuff right now and the kid won't be using any of it for another five months."

"Why don't you just admit you're uncomfortable?" Sam asked, jotting the down of three strollers that were more in their price range.

"It's not that I'm uncomfortable." he told her. "It's just a little…. I don't know…..freaky. Looking at ultrasound pictures and reading books is one thing. Actually doing stuff like this? That's another thing. This is just so…"

"Permanent?" she asked, flipping her note book closed and dropping it and the pen into her purse.

"Exactly. What? We're done?"

"These are the big purchases we need to decide on. Everything else is easier and can be done closer to the time. And like you said, people will probably buy the smaller stuff. If not, we can come back when we're closer and you get a better grip on yourself. Last thing I want is to push you into this and have you have an anxiety attack in the middle of Toys R Us."

Was she mad? Disappointed? Flack couldn't quite tell. In a way, he felt like he'd let her down. Because he'd been on her ass to get more into things and start making preparations, and when she did and the time game, he completely bailed on her. He felt like an insensitive, selfish ass.

"We could look at some more things." he suggested, feeling the urge to make it up to her. "I mean, the kid needs a mattress, right? Or does it come with the crib?

"That one comes with it." she said, and started out of the baby section.

"Well what about clothes and stuff. Doesn't hurt to buy some clothes, right? Or some toys? What about one of those swings and those vibrating chairs you showed me in that catalogue? Wanna look at those? We can look at those."

"Don, come on. Let's go. Like you said, we have no room for anything. And we won't have much room until we get that spare room for the baby."

"Clothes don't take up much room. Let's look at clothes. Humor me here. I'm trying to make it up to you."

She laughed. "Is there something you need to make up for?"

"I said we'd come and look around and stuff and now we're all ready leaving 'cause I'm a moron."

"No. You're human. This is massive life style change for both of us. Guys have a harder time with it. You've been single for a long time. Well, unless you count Devon as a serious relationship."

He snorted. "Let's pretend she never existed. And you're right. I have been single a long time. Too long. And even then, I was never with anyone I'd considered marrying or having kids. And then both those things happen as quickly as they did? I have to admit, I'm going a bit mental with all of this."

She smiled. That beautiful smile that crinkled her nose and made those golden eyes sparkle. "It's okay." she assured her, snaking her arm around his waist and leaning into him. "So am I. Before I walked in, I guess it didn't seem like it was real. And now, reality is biting us both in the ass."

"I wouldn't change it. I don't regret anything. Do you?"

"No. Well, maybe one thing….."

"Uh-oh. I don't like the sound of that."

She giggled. "Nothing like that. I just regret not asking you to drive me home that day instead of Danny."

"Why's that?"

"Would have given me the chance to get some info on your credit information."

"And then what? Find some upper west side sugar daddy to father your kids?"

"No. I'd get you to father them for the dark hair and blue eyes and my sugar daddy to keep me and foot all the bills."

He smirked. "Very goddamn funny."

They stopped in the excessively long line and she stood in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him with a gentle smile on her face.

"You're better than any sugar daddy in the world." she declared.

"Yeah. Can no other guy in the free world would put up with your crap." Flack said.

"Well something keeps you around."

He arched an eyebrow.

She grinned. "And you wonder how I ended up pregnant. It's the only damn thing on your mind."

"Not the only thing." he corrected her. "Lots on my mind all the time."

"Like?"

"How this may freak me out but I wouldn't trade it, or you, for anything in the world."

She beamed. "You always pick the perfect things to say. You're catching on to this marriage thing."

"I'm learning as I go along." he declared and kissed her.

"That makes two of us." she said.

* * *

Adam Ross woke up with an aching back and stiff neck. And bright sunlight streaming in his face, forcing him awake. He groaned loudly and propped himself up onto his elbows and glanced sleepily around the room. He was in the middle of his living room floor, the coffee table shoved brutally aside, contents spilled all over the hard wood floor and clothes and shoes tossed blindly and clumsily over the couch and in the front hallway and living room itself. The wool blanket kept over the back of the sofa draped loosely over his naked midsection. And up to the chin of a sleeping Gus Broussard. On her side facing him, her blond hair loose and messy and oh so sexy. Eyelashes falling on her soft cheeks and her delicate pink lips curved in a smile.

The memory of the night before was fresh in his mind. The passionate, almost messy and clumsy kisses they shared from the moment they set foot in his apartment door, their hands greedy and forceful, yanking and pulling at clothes as they stumbled into the living room, mouths devouring each other, bodies pressed tight together and their hands exploring and searching. The way she smelled and the way she felt underneath his mouth and his fingertips, the soft murmurs she made and the louder, more insistent almost pleading noises that escaped that beautiful mouth. The feel of her hands in his hair and her legs wrapped around his waist and the overwhelming, incredible sensation of being inside such an amazing, insanely gorgeous and responsive woman.

It had been the most incredible night of Adam Ross' young life.

Gus murmured in her sleep and reached out for him, her hand falling on his stomach and Adam settled himself down beside her, wrapping an arm around her willowy body and pulling her close so that her head was tucked under his chin.

What did I ever do in my life that I deserved this? Or someone like her? Adam thought, breathing in her soft scent, stroking her silky hair and her smooth back. Women like Gus didn't bother with guys like him. Lowly criminalists. Science geeks. Computer nerds. Women that stunning and intelligent and classy went out with guys with PhD's. Fellow doctors and lawyers and the like. Guys that looked like they stepped off the cover of GQ, not that looked like they frequented frat parties and keggers. But here she was, warm and secure in his arms.

And as naked as the day she was born.

"A penny for your thoughts." Gus said suddenly, studying his serious face through half open eyes.

"They're worth way more than that." Adam told her and kissed her tenderly.

She smiled sleepily and settled her head back in the crook of his neck. Her fingertips drawing lazy patterns on his stomach as she listened to his heart beat and marveled at how perfect it felt to be there with him.

"You were incredible." he told her, softly stroking her hair.

She lifted her head to look at him. "Likewise."

"No one's ever told me that before." he reluctantly admitted.

"Then apparently they were morons who didn't know incredible sex from a hole in a ground." Gus declared. "'Cause sugar, you did things for me that I've never had done before."

Adam blushed. "Yeah?"

Gus nodded. "Know what else?"

He shook his head.

"I'd give anything to have you do them again."

He grinned broadly. "Is that an invitation?" he asked.

She smiled wickedly, pushed him flat onto his back and straddled him. "You bet your sweet little ass it is." she said and kissed him senseless.

"Remember what I said about liking women who take charge?" Adam was panting as she lifted herself off him and yanked the sheet off of him.

"Mm-hm." she said, pressing a trail of blazing kisses from the hallow of his throat, all the way down to his navel.

"I meant every word."

She grinned. "Then you just lay back and let me do all the work." she said, kissing her way back to his lips.

"You have no idea what you do to me." he breathed, then groaned as she slid herself down onto him.

"I think I have some sort of idea." she said. "And if it is anything like you do to me, we'll be lucky if we're conscious at the end of this day. And you'll be wondering how in the hell you ever survived."

"Dying never scared me." he said. "And at least I'd go happy. Damn, insanely happy." he thrust his hips up at her, forcing her to take him deeper.

She closed her eyes; let her head fall back as she breathed his name.

To Adam, his name never sounded so good.

* * *

Carmen woke to an empty bed. Something that she hadn't done in the past three months. She could always count on that warm, strong, inviting and welcoming body to be there next to her. But that morning, when she rolled over onto her stomach and then blindly reached out for him, her hand fell on cool, wrinkled sheets.

Her eyes snapped open and she propped herself on her elbows and pushed hair out of her face. Saddened and disappointed to find herself completely alone and the apartment in complete silence. Not even a hint of noise drifted down the hall towards the bedroom. He wasn't the type to take just take off and not even wake her up and tell her where he was going. Or at least leave a note explaining his absence. She yawned noisily and glanced over at his pillow.

There was no note. But what she saw sitting there was startling and better than any letter.

A single red rose with a white ribbon tied around it. Upon the ribbon, secured tightly, was a diamond ring that sparkled in the late morning sunlight that streamed through the window. A simple, decent size round diamond flanked on either side by a smaller round diamond and set in a thick yellow gold band. Tears sparkled in her eyes, a lump caught in her throat; her hands trembled as she reached out to pick up the rose.

"Surprised?" Speed asked from the doorway behind her. He'd come in quietly, so he could watch her reaction. After a week and a half of debating ways to ask the most important question of his life, he had decided to go with a simple approach.

She rolled over onto her back and then sat up in bed, holding the rose delicately in her hands. She couldn't answer. Couldn't form words let alone get them past that lump in her throat. All she could do was nod.

He came to the side of the bed and took the rose from her hands, untying the ribbon and dropping the ring into the palm of his hand.

He climbed onto the rumpled bed, kneeling in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"I'm not very good at stuff like this." Speed said with a sigh.

"It's okay." she managed. "Neither am I."

"A very wise man told me to just speak from the heart. Just like he did. So here it goes…." he took a deep breath and composed himself, and his thoughts. "I never thought I'd ever meet someone that I'd be willing to open up to and give myself to completely. Never thought I'd trust anyone or love them unselfishly or unconditionally. And then I met you and I was never the same."

She smiled through her tears, giving him a chance to gather himself.

"I love you, Carmen. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. And you make me feel whole and the thought of not having you in my life scares me to death. I want to experience life with you. I want us to laugh and love and live. I'm not the richest man or the smartest man on earth. I can't give you everything that you deserve. But I can give you me."

"That's all I want." she said. "You."

"Spend forever with me, Carmen. However long that is. Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will." she said and leaned forward to kiss him.

"Whew…" Speed said. "And I thought giving a presentation in front of three hundred at a conference was tough. Never been so scared in my life."

"You did wonderful." Carmen assured him, as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Then gently kissed the top of her hand.

"I love you, Carmen." he said.

"I love you, too, Tim. You have no idea how happy you've made me."

"If it's near half what you've made me, I do."

They kissed long and soft for a long time. When they broke apart, he smoothed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Just one thing." Carmen said.

"What's that?"

"You really don't expect me to change my name do you? Two Speedles at work?"

"What's wrong with that? Gonna be two Flacks. Sam's changing her name."

"Yeah…..but it sounds right. Samantha Flack. Sam Flack. Either way sounds good. But Carmen Speedle?"

He ran the name through his mind. Then frowned. "You're right, sounds damn awful. So what you're saying is you want to stay Devine."

"For business purposes." she said.

"I get to call you Mrs. Speedle in private?" he teased.

"You get to call me whatever you want."

"Really? Well in that case….." he began undoing the buttons on the dress shirt of his she'd worn to bed the night before. "How about I call you my naked fiancée?"

"Sounds good to me." she said with a giggle, then kissed him and fell back onto the bed, pulling him down on top of her.

He kissed her, and then looked deep into her eyes.

"Thank you for loving me." he said.

* * *

Samantha had been so exhausted when they'd gotten home that she stretched out on the couch and promptly fell asleep. Flack left her there, grabbing her pillow from the bedroom and placing it gently under her head, then grabbing the throw off the back of the couch and tucking it securely around her. She needed sleep. He knew she wasn't getting enough. Hell, everyone knew it, even the doctor who bitched endlessly about it and had suggested, more than once in fact, that maybe it was a good idea for her to cut back to part time hours in order to get proper rest. Samantha had looked at her as if she was completely insane and adamantly refused to even consider it. Bad enough being stuck in the lab, she said. But taking me out of it nearly completely so early would damn near kill me.

The two hour nap she had taken had given him enough time to do the six loads of laundry exploding all over the bedroom and then fold it and put it away. Bags upon bags of maternity clothes sat on the bed. She'd gone crazy, spending over two hours trying things on and making him sit there and ask his opinion. And then he gladly fitted the bill in the end. Whatever she needed he was more than happy to get for her.

If only someone had told him just how damn expensive having a baby was. Not that that would have changed his mind to have one with her, but it would have been nice to be prepared. And put some money away.

Thank God they'd decided to go with a small wedding or they'd be in massive debt before the marriage even started.

Now, an hour after she woke up feeling refreshed and re-energized, they debated what to have for dinner –order in was more like it. With all the baby stuff, they'd forgotten to get groceries and neither one felt like getting off the couch and going to the store- while lounging on the sofa. While waiting for the Chinese food he'd ordered, he flipped the channels on the TV and she looked through an Irish names baby book she'd picked up at Barnes and Noble. They'd decided on an Irish name or a variant of in honor of their backgrounds. But the choices were harder than either of them had imagined. Right now they were working on boy names.

"What about Jonathan?" Sam asked.

"Too normal. Thought you wanted something different."

"Rylan?" she asked.

"Too different." he replied. "Don't make life terrible on the kid."

"I think it's nice. Patrick?"

"Patrick Flack? Pat Flack? Are you nuts?"

She sighed. "Caelen?"

He shook his head.

"Declan? I like Declan."

"Reminds me of an IRA terrorist. Wasn't that Brad Pitt's name in that movie with Harrison Ford? He was in the IRA in that. That move we watched the other night. Made like ten years ago or something like that. I swear his name was Declan."

"It was also Richard Gere's name in The Jackal." Sam added.

"We watch way too much TV." Flack declared. "I thought we all ready agreed on Shaun Donald?"

"Middle and third name. We need a first name. Here's a nice one. I like this one. Kieran. You like that?"

"Kieran Flack." he said, trying it out. "Kieran Shaun Donald Flack."

"I think it sounds great." Sam said.

"So do I." he agreed. "What's the meaning?"

"Black or dark." she read from the book. "Perfect for our kid. Unless by some weird chance it comes out with blond hair."

"I will so kick your ass if that happens." he declared.

"Don't worry. That will never happen. Besides, my secret boyfriend is dark too."

He smirked.

"So we have a boy's name. What about a girl?"

"Well, we got Patricia and Lynne as the middle and third names. And honestly, there's a name I heard the other day and I really like it."

She arched an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Mikayla. Mikalya Flack. Mikayla Patricia Lynne Flack. I like the sound of that."

She smiled and leaned across the couch and kissed his cheek. "So do I." she said. "So we actually have names. Too bad everything else couldn't be this easy."

"No kidding. At least the store is delivering the crib to the new apartment next week. No place to put it here."

"Us women come with a lot of stuff." Sam declared. She rubbed her stomach. "I'm starving."

"What else is new?" Flack asked. "All you do is eat. You're getting almost as bad as me."

"Please. Like that is possible. I hope the food gets here soon. Your child is dying of starvation."

"Yeah…..right."

A loud knock came to the door of the apartment. Both knew it couldn't be the food. It had only been twenty minutes since he'd ordered and it took nearly forty for an order to be ready. Flack got up to answer it and was greeted by a smiling delivery boy with a massive bouquet of mixed flowers in his hands.

"Delivery for a Samantha Ross." he announced.

Flack took the flowers and gave the kid a five from his pocket as a tip.

"I gotta bone to pick with you woman." he said as he carried the flowers into the living room.

"Who was that?" she asked, her eyes widening at the sight of the elaborate flowers. "Baby that is so sweet. What a nice surprise." She gushed.

"As easy as it would be for me to lie and say they're from me, they're not. So who's the other guy sending you flowers?" he sat them on the coffee table and plucked the card from the arrangement.

"Please." she said. "There's only you and you know it."

"Then you have some explaining to do." Flack said and handed her the card.

Sam ripped the envelope open and pulled the card out. Tears filled her eyes.

"So? Whose ass do I get to kick?" he asked. "Who are they from?"

"My father." she replied.

"That I didn't see coming." he said. "What's the card say?"

"It's says I'm sorry. Please call me."

Flack grabbed the cordless phone off the coffee table and helped it out to her. "I think that's a good idea." he said.

* * *

"I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry for the way I acted." Sarge said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Sam sat on the couch, cordless phone pressed to her ear, trying to stem the flow of tears that slipped down her face. Flack picked up the box of Kleenexes left behind on the coffee table from her cold and dropped them in her lap, then stood and kissed the top of her head before disappearing from the room.

"It hurt dad. All the things you said. About me and Don and the baby. Most of all the things you said about Don. You don't even know him and you won't even give him a chance. All I want is for you to give him a chance, See that he's not out to hurt me. That he loves me and takes good care of me."

"That's hard for me, ladybug. The last guy that I trusted with you…..well looks what happened there."

"He's not Zack, dad. He's far from being anything like Zack. And that's the past. Zack's gone now and the world is a better place, trust me. He can't hurt anyone else like he hurt me. That's the only good thing about what he did to me. Because he got caught and this is the end result."

"You're my baby girl, Samantha. I love you like you're my own. And I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you."

"Don's not like that, dad. No one gives him credit. People see the initial way he has about him and judge him before they get a chance to know him. He's not perfect, believe me. But he's perfect for me. And I love him and he loves me and we'll love this baby and be good parents."

"I know. I just want what's best for you."

"This is what's best for me. I wouldn't be in it if it wasn't. And I'm sorry too, for going off like I have a tendency to do. And we should have told you and mommy about the baby sooner. But we really did think we were doing the right thing."

"I have a hard time remembering that you're an adult and can make your own decisions. I should try letting you do just that. Just we're all so far apart."

Sam wiped her eyes with a tissue. "I know it's hard for both you and mommy that I'm so far away in New York. But this is my home now. Don's here and Carmen and all of my friends who I love so much. And Adam. He keeps an eye on me, daddy. And he'd let you know if you were needed."

Sarge sighed heavily. "I know. I just want you to be happy, lady bug."

"I am happy." she insisted. "Everything I ever wanted is finally coming true. It's not a dream life, but it's the life I want with the man I want. He's different, daddy. And I really wish you could see that."

"I'm trying, sweetie. I am."

Flack came back into the living room and sat back down beside her. A bottle of beer in one hand, a glass of milk in the other. He held the milk out to her.

She smiled her thanks and took it from him.

He winked at her and went back to watching ESPN.

"You'd really like him, daddy." She said, taking a sip of the water. "If you just talked to him and got to know him, you'd really like him."

"I know that he's crazy about you, lady bug. That young man is head over heels in love with you. When he called me yesterday morning…."

Sam nearly choked on her water and looked at Flack. "He called you?" she asked into the phone.

Flack just sipped his beer and said nothing.

"I wasn't going to listen at first." Sarge said. "I was all ready to hang up when I realized who it was calling me. Sneaky bastard using an unknown name, unknown number."

"He's a detective, dad. He knows all the sneaky stuff from people trying to use it on him all the time at work."

"Not to mention he's damn assertive and aggressive when push comes to shove. Had me shut up and take notice right away."

Sam grinned. "Yeah….he can be a damn bully when he wants to be with the people he thinks deserve it."

"He told me how he felt about you. How you felt about each other and this baby. Laid it all out on the table. And told me how you've been feeling lately about the way things went down between us. His main concern is you and that baby. You got a damn good man there."

She smiled. "Yeah. I do. He's something else."

"I just want you to know that I'm giving this young man a chance. But if he does anything…"

"He won't." Sam assured her father.

"I want to be a grandfather. A damn good one at that. And I'm proud of how far you've come and I know you'll make a great mother. And he'll make a good father. And a good husband."

"Yeah." Sam agreed and leaned across the couch to press a kiss to Flack's cheek. "He will. He's off to a good start."

"Figure I may as well give my son in law at least a small chance. Promise you won't hurt him too much."

She laughed. "I promise."

"Thanks for calling me. I'm glad we talked."

"So am I."

"If you need anything, and I mean anything, you just give your mother and I a call. Okay?"

"Okay." she agreed.

"I love you, Samantha. We'll talk soon."

"I love you, too, daddy." she said and hung up.

"Am I in trouble?" Flack asked.

"Why would you be in trouble?"

He shrugged. "Calling your dad behind your back like that."

"Honestly, I think it was a damn brave thing for you to do. And I appreciate it. You knew how bad it was bothering me."

"I just want you to be happy, Samantha. Anything to make you happy."

She rested her head against his shoulder and rubbed his back. "You make me happy." she told him. "Do I make you happy?"

"Only on days that end in Y." he teased.

She smiled and he turned his face into hers and kissed her softly. "You know what would make me really happy?" she asked.

He grinned and kissed his way from her lips to the side of her neck.

"Other than some of your infamous oral skills." She laughed. "Food. I'm hungry."

"Give me ten minutes and you'll be dying of starving from all the energy you used." he said and reached for the buttons on her shirt.

"There's no time for that right now." she argued and tried to wriggle away.

"There is always time for that." Flack told her, pushing her gently onto her back and kissing her passionately, carefully not to put too much weight on her.

"You are such a man." she declared and sighed at the feel of his lips on her tender skin.

"Maybe. But I'm your man." he told her.

She smiled and closed her eyes and relaxed under his touch. "Always?" she asked.

"Always." he vowed., lifting his head to look at her. "'Til the day I die."

She raised her head to kiss him and clung to him with everything in her body.

She prayed to God that that day was a long, long way away.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. And to all you lurkers, thanks for reading, but please review. It would mean a lot to me.**

**Today's plugs:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**

**Evaflack001: For Kate's Sake**

**Madison Bellows: Positive, What it Means, The Saints Aren't Coming**


	63. The Joys of Phone Sex

**The Joys of Phone Sex**

"I've made up my mind,  
Don't need to think it over,  
If I'm wrong I am right  
Don't need to look no further  
This ain't lust, I know this is love  
But if I tell the world, I'll never say enough  
'Cause it was not said to you  
And that's exactly what I need to do if I'd end up with you  
Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements  
Even if it leads nowhere?  
Or would it be a waste even if I knew my place  
Should I leave it there?  
Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements  
Even if it leads nowhere?"  
- Chasing Pavements, Adele

**Just want to apologize for taking so long to update. Real life can be a real bitch sometimes. I've been consumed with physiotherapists and occupational therapists and speech therapists and all kinds of other special needs stuff. Thanks for being so patient. Hope I didn't loose any of you.**

**Big thanks to my Montana for the music and my 'twin' over in England for her support. **

* * *

Stella felt as if life was passing her by. As she stood in her office, staring out that glass wall at Carmen and Speed being congratulated on their engagement by the ecstatic members of the team, her heart was just about ready to break. It wasn't that she wasn't happy for the two of them. She knew of Carmen's painful and difficult past with men, and how she'd fought so long to be able to trust and love again. No one deserved that kind of fulfillment as much as Carmen did. And she'd found herself a hell of a guy in Tim Speedle. Despite his quirks and his imperfections, he was phenomenally intelligent and compassionate and undeniably handsome.

Stella was happy for them. She really was. But she just couldn't bring herself to join in the jubilation. Her heart was aching. Seeing all these changes taking place in front of her while her own life seemed to be at a stand still was a little too much to take. First Samantha and Flack. Stella had never thought she'd see the day when Don Flack became a family man. As far as she was concerned, Flack was the consummate, life long bachelor. Hanging out with the guys, dabbling in short term, non committed relationships. Never taking anything seriously. Yet there he was, at the side of the woman who'd quickly and seemingly effortlessly captured the tough New York City cop's heart and transformed him into the man that they all knew he had the possibility of becoming. Who in three months would become his wife, and in just shy of five, the mother of his child. Stella had never seen Flack smile like that, or his blue eyes sparkle so brilliantly. Sam was a God send. Coming at a time in his life when he'd all but given up hope of having anything but meaningless relationships.

And then there was Danny and Erica. Danny had spent nearly three years back and forth with Lindsay. An often tumultuous time that had them all wondering just what in the hell he was thinking putting himself through such agony. It was tough seeing a friend on top of the world one moment and sinking to the depths of anguish the next. And to watch the woman he vowed he loved manipulate those feelings and have him running in circles and never getting any farther ahead was damn frustrating. Erica had saved Danny. Had made him happier than he ever thought possible, loved him completely and unconditionally and didn't put him through an emotional wringer. She didn't judge him by his past but on the future they could have together. A future they'd been seriously discussing lately and would be seeing Danny moving into her high class apartment within the next two months. Danny Messer was hopelessly, desperately in love and had never felt anything like it.

Stella turned away from the view of the happy group and retreated to her desk, needing to get her thoughts and feelings together, not to mention the courage she needed to go out there and congratulate the happy couple and seem sincere about it.

She took a seat in the leather chair behind her desk and sipped luke warm coffee from a stainless steel travel mug. Her eyes falling on a picture of her and Mac in a pewter frame on the desk top. To say that she loved the man was an understatement. She'd loved him long before she was a thought in his mind. Quietly biding her time, keeping her distance personally but wishing and hoping all the same that he'd eventually see her in the same way. Her heart shattered when he met Peyton. The thought of him being with any woman was unbearable, but the fact it was a woman that she saw at work every day, that she had to see in the hallways talking to and hanging off every word of the man she'd secretly loved for so long, was destroying her. And as much as she played the part of consoling, concerned friend when Peyton stayed in England and sent Mac that Dear John letter, inside she was the happiest she'd been in a long time. Because it meant there was another chance for her and him.

She wasn't sure how it had actually happened. How she and Mac had finally come clean about their feelings for each other. But an acceptance on her part for a coffee back at his place six months ago turned into something much more and she never set foot in her apartment for three days. And when she did go back it was only to get fresh changes of clothes and some personal items. She'd been a constant presence in his personal life since. Her apartment had been on the market for three months now. She'd been shocked when he'd admitted to loving her for just as long as she had carried a torch for him, and had accepted his reasoning that he was relucatant to pursue a relationship because he was worried about the reactions of the team, their productivity and that of the entire lab. And his ability to run it efficiently while having a relationship with someone inside of it.

What mattered was that they had both come clean and were better, more relaxed people for it. Their work relationship hadn't been affected at all. In fact, if anything, it seemed to be even stronger and they never thought that that was possible. They had developed an even bigger sense of respect and adoration for each other. Mind you, now they worried about each other incessantly and he was becoming increasingly overprotective.

But where was it all going? The l word passed their lips on a daily basis. Numerous times in fact in a twenty four hour period. And Stella had been ecstatically happy with the way things were going until Flack had run off and gotten himself engaged and gotten someone pregnant. That started the wheels in motion. If someone like Flack could give up on sowing his wild oats and settle down, what was taking someone as mature as Mac to take that next step. And now Carmen and Speed. Soon it would be Danny and Erica.

When is it my turn? Stella thought. I'm not getting any younger. Neither is Mac. I want the husband and the kids and the house in the suburbs. The happily ever after.

She scolded herself for being so selfish. She knew she should be happy for all of her friends. And that what she had with Mac was more than what some women got in a life time. After Frankie and Drew, her knight in shining armor had finally arrived. And she wouldn't give him up for anything in the world.

But part of her wanted more. Craved more. And she was worried that would never come.

The team dispersed. Going their separate ways. Flack had gotten a call to a homicide over on Lafayette Street and it wouldn't be long until he was calling the crime lab for some CSIs. Mac hadn't made up a duty sheet for that day yet so they seperated themselves into duos and flipped a coin to see who got to go to the first scene of the day. Danny and Carmen called tails and won and went to get their gear ready while Speed and Hawkes headed off to busy themselves in trace and ballistics.

Sam was left to her own defenses to find something to do. Mac and Stella always told her to just help out where she was needed, and the last time she checked, that was helping Adam out in AV. First however, she had to hand in a report to Stella that she'd taken home on Friday to finish up. It hadn't been a necessity to get it done sooner, but she felt bad it had taken her three days nearly.

She knocked on the office door and poked her head in. "Stel? Can I come in?"

"Sure. What's up?"

Sam held up the report as she entered. "Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay. It wasn't that serious."

Sam laid the folder on the tidy desk and frowned at the sullen look on Stella's face. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

Stella managed a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Sam shrugged. "You look upset."

"I need to ask you a question. A couple actually." Stella told her, then motioned for her to sit down.

"Sure." Sam said as she took a seat in front of the desk. "What's up?"

"I need to know you're secret." Stella told her.

"My secret?" Sam laughed. "What secret?"

"How in the hell did you manage to get someone like Flack to settle down so quickly?"

"No secret." Sam said. "I guess I just caught him at a time in his life when he was ready for all of that."

"You do not give yourself enough credit." Stella told her. "He wouldn't have just settled down with just anyone. Trust me. I've known him a long time and I have never seen him as happy as he is now. The way he loves you, it's written all over her face and in his eyes every time he so as much looks at you. I've never seen Flack look that way at anyone."

"I guess I just came along at a good time. And believe me, I waited a long time to find someone like Don. I didn't think I'd ever find anything like this. When I was with Zack, I was too scared to leave. I wanted to so many times. And he'd all but convinced me that no one else would ever want me and the more he said it, the more I believed it and fell into this hole I swore my entire like I'd never find myself in. Sometimes, I sit back and think about what it would be like if I never left Arizona and actually married Zack."

Stella shuddered at the thought. "By the grace of God you got out in time. You're a survivor Sam. Don't ever let anyone tell you anything different. I had my own issues with feeling like a victim after Frankie and then Drew. Until Mac made me realize that I was stronger and tougher than I gave myself credit for."

Sam smiled. "From what I've heard from some of the others, no one has ever seen you or Mac this happy either."

A broad smile crossed Stella's face and her curls bounced as she nodded. "We are happy. And we both deserve it."

"But." Sam said. "I sense a but coming on."

"You are very perceptive when it comes to things like that."

"Hey, it's what you guys pay me the not so big bucks for."

"I love Mac. And he loves me. I don't doubt that. It's just that with all that's been going on around here, first you and Flack getting married soon and starting a family and now Carmen and Speed and you just know that Danny's next, I just can't help but think about where my life is going. With Mac."

"Where would you like it to go?" Sam asked.

"Marriage. Kids. White picket fence." Stella replied without hesitation.

"Two out of three is good for me." Sam said. "I'm not the white picket fence type. Have you told Mac any of this?"

"Not in so many words. And I honestly don't know if Mac would ever get married again after Claire."

"You'll never know if you don't ask. It's what I did. What both Don and I did, actually. We just talked about what we wanted and things progressed from there. You should really talk to him."

Stella sighed. "I know."

"He could be feeling all of this too and maybe he's too scared to tell you because he doesn't think you're feeling it."

"Damn your good." Stella laughed. "You should have been a relationship counsellor."

Sam shook her head. "I need to start taking some of my own advice to be honest. It is not all sunshine and roses between Don and I. Trust me, But you should talk to Mac. I mean, what do you have to loose?"

"My pride? My heart? Just to name a couple."

"I was scared too." Sam told her. "Half the time I still am. I just close my eyes and and pray and hope for the best."

Stella's cell phone beeped noisily and she pulled it off he front pocket of her slacks to check the display. "I have a scene in Greenwich. I wish I could bring you with me. I miss working scenes with you."

"I miss that too. I hate being in the lab full time."

"I know." Stella sympathized with her as she got up from her chair. "But it's for the best."

Sam nodded and got up as well. "I better get to AV before Adam thinks I bailed on him."

"Hey, Sam." Stella called to the younger woman as she headed for the door.

She paused, one foot in the hall.

"Thanks." Stella said. "For everything you said. It really helped."

"Well, a lot of people have helped me since I've been here. I guess it's time I start spreading it around a bit."

"You're a good friend,Sam."

She smiled brightly. "I try my best." she said.

* * *

Flack felt awkward. Not that he was walking around making it apparent to anyone. He was usually confident to a fault. Cocky and arrogant were two words often used to describe him. He was good at putting up that front when in reality, inside he was often second guessing himself and the choices and decisions he made and berating himself for things that didn't go according to the best laid plans. And now, as he stood inside that small, cluttered one bedroom apartment on Lafayette Street, next to that very warehouse where Dean Truby was planning on selling the black cocaine stolen from the raid Flack was in charge of, and where he ultimately sealed his fate by killing an innocent Kym Tanaka.

Anything that brought Dean Truby's name up or that entire incident was a bitter pill to swallow for Flack. It was almost two years since Truby's arrest and it haunted Flack nearly every day. Gnawed at him deep inside. He knew, in his heart that he had done the right thing by giving Mac that log book. Things would have looked even worse for him had he not cooperated and made Mac subpoena him. But it had been near career suicide helping nail a fellow cop. He heard the whispers around the precinct afterwards, other guys calling him a rat and Mac Taylor's stool pigeon. Shit, sometimes he still heard it after all this time. And he'd lost a lot of peoples respect. Including the brass and his old man. Made even worse when he wouldn't turn on Mac over Clay Dobson.

Fuck them, he thought, as he stood in the living room, taking notes in his log book, recording details of the scene. He wasn't doing himself any good standing there worrying about pissing people off. He'd pissed a lot of people off in his time and he'd piss of a lot more. It was just the nature of his personality. Only thing worrying about what other people thought about him or were saying about him would do for him was give him more grey hair or an ulcer. Or even both. What he needed to do was concentrate on the job in front of him.

Which was hard, considering the smell that was lingering in the air from the dead body sprawled on the tattered, old couch that was well on its way to full decomp. One of the uniforms, a rookie responding to his first DB ever, had all ready fled the room twice to dispose of his stomach contents. At least he'd left the scene. The next building super, who'd been alerted by a neighbour who'd gotten a whif of the smell through the slightly open apartment door, hadn't been so considerate of whoever would be called to work the scene, loosing his breakfast all over the place when he headed in to see what the problem was.

Old newspapers and junk that had been discarded all over the floor, crinkled and snapped under neath Flack's feet as he moved around the living room jotting down information. Behind him, out in the hall, a couple of his guys talked to the super and a couple of the neighbours. He could hear the muffled conversations.

"Man..." Danny complained as he and Carmen entered the messy, smelly apartment. "What's that smell? Who died?"

"That's cold, Messer." Flack said. "Even for you."

"When'd you become so sensitive?" Danny asked. "Getting married and having a kid turning you soft or something?"

"I'm not the one moving into a pent house apartment and driving my girlfriend's Bentley." Flack pointed out defensively. "If anyone's going soft, Messer, it's you. So don't start."

"Didn't get your coffee this morning, Flack?" Carmen teased him.

"Didn't get laid probably." Danny said.

"Unlike you, Messer, that is one problem I don't have. My girl puts out thank you very much."

"That's harsh, Flack." Danny complained. "You've been taking how to be mean lesssons from Brooklyn."

Flack ignored that comment and decided the best thing to do was just get done to business.

"Female vic." he said, gesturing to the body with his log book. "Super tentatively ID'd her as Danica O'Neil, the renter of the apartment. I say tentative 'cause as you see, sh's been here a while and we don't have much to go on. He says that he recognizes that ring on her finger. Something she wore all the time."

"The super found her?" Carmen asked, setting her kit down at the side of the couch and fighting back a wave of nausea that was brought on by being closer to the sight and the smell.

Flack nodded. "Next door neighbour was taking his dog out for a walk and saw the door to the apartment open slightly and got a whif of the stench. Called the super sayin' he was concerned. Super came in, found this. That was at..." Flack checked his watch. "Roughly quarter to ten."

"Does this belong to the super?" Danny asked, nodding at the puddles of vomit and beginning to take the overalls.

"All of them." Flack concurred. "My uniform had the right sense to leave before he was sick."

"What do we know about her?" Carmen asked, opening her kit and pulling out a pair of gloves and snapping them on.

"Super and the neighbours don't know a hell of a lot." Flack replied. "She just moved in a couple of months ago. Lives alone, kept to herself, didn't have a lot of people coming and going. I searched the place for an ID or purse or something, but I didn't find anything other than that busted up PDA there." He pointed to a smashed Blackberry on the floor in front of the couch.

Carmen gingerly picked it up an deposited it into a clear plastic evidence bag. "Take that to the lab and see if Sam or Adam can work their magic on it."

"I found some bills in the kitchen verifying the name of the vic," Flack said. "But I'm sure you guys will want to run tests to prove it's her so I'll hold off on contacting next of kin. She left an emergency contact number when she applied for the apartment. Mother over in Washington Heights. I did find a photo over on the kitchen table. Two girls. One brunette, the other blond and the super told me that the blond is our vic before she dyed her hair red sometime last week."

"Judging by the state of decomp, I'd put TOD at at least two days." Danny said, retreating to the table to bag the photo. "Hot as hell in here so that would speed things up. Anyone hear anything, see anything in the last few days?"

"In this neighbourhood and in this building, people are always fighting and having it out." Flack said. "But the super did tell me that our vic was a model tenant and no one ever complained about any noise coming out of here."

"This place got security tapes?" Danny asked.

"All ready have the super gettin' them ready for me." Flack replied. "You guys can take them and that PDA back when he brings them up."

"There's some prescription bottles here." Carmen said, nodding at the coffee table. "I count at least six and most are only half full. And a bottle of Benalyn cold syrup."

Danny snapped some more pictures and laid the camera down on the floor and went to the coffee table to examine the various pill bottles. "Got quite a mix here." he said, studying the labels. "Ambien, Zoloft, Celexa, Lorezpam, Tylenol three with codeine. Each one is in the vic's name, too."

"Regular pharmacy." Flack commented as Danny bagged all the bottles and the cough syrup.

"Take all these together and cough medicine and you're looking at lethal mix." Danny said. "Exactly what happened to Heath Ledger. Can't go around mixing all this shit and not expect something bad to happen."

"That an official COD?" Flack asked. "You an ME now too?"

"It's strictly speculation." Danny replied. "Don't you have some detective work you would be doing instead of just hanging around like this?"

"Would you two just stop?" Carmen asked, annoyed. "You guys are like an old married couple."

"He started it." they said in unison, each pointing at the other.

"Grow up." Carmen snapped. "Both of you. Before I separate you guys."

"Think this place was tossed or has the maid been off sick for a while?" Danny asked.

"Definitely not a tossing. Or a robbery." Flack responded. "Every thing is still intact, knicks and such all in the right place, PC and lap top still here along with a stereo and HDTV. This place would have been cleaned out for sure."

"Why live in a place like this if you can afford stuff like that?" Danny wondered a loud.

"Live in a place like this and you afford shit like that." Flack reasoned. "Personally I prefer living somewhere where the rats and roaches aren't crawling all over place over owning stuff like that. But that's just me."

"Hey Flack!" one of the uniforms called from the doorway. "Super's got those tapes you wanted!"

"Be right out." he called back.

"One of the tenants also found some bloody clothes shoved in of the recycling bins out front. Might belong to your vic."

Danny and Carmen looked at each other.

"Don't even look at me, Messer. I've been the go to garbage girl since Sam's been out of commission. It's your turn."

"But..."

"No way." Carmen remained firm.

Danny sighed dramatically as he headed to the door.

"Don't even give me that pouty little boy shit." Carmen told him before he disappeared down the hall. "It's only fair you do it. It's not like you have to climb in an actual dumpster."

"I gotta go get those tapes and send them to the lab." Flack told her. "I'll get one of my guys to come in and keep an eye on you."

Carmen handed him the PDA to take as well. "I'm a big girl, Flack." She told him. "I don't need a babysitter."

"You know Mac's policy. Women are not left alone at crime scenes." he reminded her. "Too many things could go wrong."

"Things can go wrong no matter who is in the room." Carmen informed him.

"Yeah? Well after what happened to Sam, I am not taking any chances. Catch ya in a while."

"Try not to work too hard." she teased him. "You're already in a pissy enough mood."

"Trust me, Carmen. If you knew, you'd understand why."

Carmen watched him leave. Some days she just didn't understand a damn thing.

Starting with what the hell had happened in that apartment.

She sighed heavily and quickly surveyed the room before settling her eyes back on the vic.

Guess it's just you, me and the evidence, she thought, and set to work.

* * *

"I come bearing gifts." Sam announced an hour after the initial call, breezing into the AV room where Adam was at the bank of computers, tracking down information on a cell phone found at Stella's Greenwich crime scene.

"I don't want to hear it. It's barely noon hour." Adam complained.

"Noon hour?" Sam laughed as she dropped the bags containing the broken PDA and building security tapes that Flack had brought by on to an open desk in front of the bank of tv monitors and computers. "It's not even quarter after eleven."

"You just know the right things to say to ruin my good mood." Adam sighed.

"Guess that means you don't want this?" Sam inquired, holding an extra large take out beverage cup over her brother's shoulder.

Adam's eyes widened. "Please tell me that that's a triple espresso latte with a shot of hazelnut. My drug of choice."

"Would I ever deny you your addiction, peanut?" she asked, leaning over him to place the cup on the desk in front of him before taking a seat in one of the swivel chairs along side of him, setting down her own decaf tea.

"You know, I take back all those times I wanted mom and dad to send you to live somewhere else when we were younger." Adam declared, sipping the steaming, heavenly beverage.

"As much as I would like to take credit, I can't. Don bought it for you. He's bribing us to move his stuff to the top of the massive pile of crap we have to look at."

"Knock yourself out. I'm almost done with this and I can start the tapes and you can look at the PDA."

"I was hoping you'd look at the PDA. You're the gadget genuis. It's busted beyond belief and if anyone can get something off of it, it's you."

"Quit sweet talking me." Adam said.

"I could always give you my pouty lips and my big puppy dog eyes."

Adam motioned for her to pass over the PDA. "I have no will power when you do that." he said.

She tossed him the baggy with the PDA in it and then loaded the first of the tapes into the computer, settling back in her chair with her tea, preparing for the long haul.

Adam finished printing off the information for Stella's cell phone records and shoved a copy into her case folder and then grabbed a pair of latex gloves. Snapping them on before opening the baggy with the PDA in it.

"So." Sam said, sipping her tea, eyes glued on the computer monitor. "How'd your date go on Saturday?"

"My date went very nice." Adam replied, pushing his chair across the room to a filing cabinet and yanking open the middle drawer, beginning a search for the proper adapter and small parts tools to take the broken Blackberry apart.

"Just very nice?" Sam asked nosily.

"We had a great time. Lots of fun." Adam told her, grabbing the necessary parts and putting his feet up on the cabinet to push himself back across the room.

"What did you guys do? Other than bowling?" Sam inquired.

Adam shrugged and hunched over the desk as he began methodically taking the PDA apart.

"What does that mean?" Sam shrugged herself. "You guys must have done something else."

"It means that I'm not telling you, Sammie."

She grinned behind the rim of her take out cup. "In that case, it means you got lucky."

Adam didn't respond.

Sam glanced over and found her younger brother's ears turning bright red from embarrassment. "I always knew you had it in you, peanut. And I am so glad it was someone decent like Gus and not that nasty Barbie girl you were dating before."

"Gus is so far from Kendall." Adam declared. "She's incredible, Sammie."

Sam smiled at the tenderness in her brother's voice and on his face. "You guys seeing each other again I hope?"

He nodded and snapped the PDA open and took out the memory chip. "This Saturday we are going to see The Producers."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "Really? You? Broadway?"

"I am willing to try anything once." Adam told her and placed the memory chip into a slot on the computer in front of him. "And she was saying something about me and her and you and Flack going out sometime."

"She's a glutton for punishment wanting to go out with us. You tell her about my mood swings and how Don and I are always one step away from strangling each other?"

"She told me that it's about time he had a woman keep him in order." Adam said. "Okay...here we go...let's see what kind of nasty little information this girl may have been keeping on this thing."

Sam glanced over. "You are a damn genius, Adam."

"It is hard being smarter than everyone else." he said. "Did Flack give you a positive ID on his vic?"

"It's pending. Decomposition prevented the building super from giving a firm yes or no. But he did get a name..." Sam flipped open the case folder in front of her. "Danica O'Neil."

"I can confirm that she owned this PDA and that she was alive three days ago. There's a check mark beside pick up dry cleaning and that was Friday. I also have her last known whereabouts. Some place called TCS Tele-communications. Never heard of it. Telemarketing maybe? Says here that it's her place of employment."

"Got a number for it?" Sam asked, pulling out her cell phone. "I'll find out what it is."

"1-900-555-7675."

Sam dialled, a frown on her face. "A one nine hundred number? That's odd."

Adam shrugged. "I've seen odder. Heard odder." he leaned back in his chair, watching her and enjoying his latte.

Sam listened intently to the voice on the other line. Her face dead serious at first, then her eyes widening, a smirk slowly crossing her face. "Get outta town." she said and hung up.

"What? What was it?" Adam asked.

"You would not believe it if I told you. It was a phone sex place."

"Come on. Get real. You serious?"

Sam nodded. "It was an automated message promising to deliver me to my ultimate fantasy."

"Should have taken them up on it."

"I'm pregnant, Adam. I'd say enough of my fantasies have been fulfilled."

"What are you going to do now?"

Sam dialled another number. "Call Carmen. They may just want to check this out. See who the last person was to see their vic alive."

"Might want to tell her to go alone so Flack doesn't get any perverted ideas being there."

"He has enough of his own, trust me." Sam said.

"You know, some things I don't want to hear. It's why I avoid talking sex with my sister. The thought of you doing stuff like that..." Adam shuddered at the thought.

"Don't worry. Gus will school you just like I schooled Don."

"Something tells me that was the other way around." Adam told her. "And that you torture the poor guy."

A broad smile crossed his sister's face. "And he loves every minute of it." she declared.

* * *

Carmen met Flack outside of the looming thirty storey glass and metal structure a block from the financial district. She had headed straight there after receiving the phone call from Sam about the victim's place of employment. This particular building mostly housed legal and brokerage firms and a couple of advertising agencies. Carmen just could not see it also housing a haven for phone sex as Sam had so eloquently put it.

She'd called Flack, who had been on his way to re-question the superintendent and some of the neighbours, while Danny worked feverishly at the lab processing prints and waiting for tox and autopsy results.

"What's goin' on, Devine?" Flack asked, as he stepped up onto the curb beside his unmarked Buick squad car. "I just got the weirdest call from my wife. Something about phone sex and keeping my mind out of the gutter."

"Apparently our vic worked as a phone sex operator." Carmen told him, as they fell in step side by side and headed for the front entrace. "She tracked the phone number to this address. And here we are."

"This can't be the right place. There is no way this place can have a phone sex operation running out of it. No way."

"Hey, I only took the message. Sam said this is the place and that Adam confirmed it through tri-angulation."

"I'll see it when I believe it." Flack said and pulled open the door, motioning for her to go first.

"You and Danny kiss and make up yet?" Carmen asked as they headed to the elevator and hit the up button.

"We're boys again. He knows why I was all stressed this morning and he respects that."

"And why were you stressed this morning? You and Sam get into it or something?"

"For once, Sam and I are fine. No problems. This is a me problem. Something that happened a long time ago that still burns my ass to this day. You ever hear the name Dean Truby?"

"I've heard the story." Carmen said.

"It's been two years nearly since Truby. And that building we were at today, that warehouse beside it was the warehouse he was gonna sell the drugs and he ended up killing that innocent kid. So I kinda got weirded out being there today."

Carmen nodded in understanding and stepped onto the elevator as the doors opened and pressed the button for the twentieth floor. "You know," she said. "Despite all the talk that goes around that place, I respect you, Flack. It wasn't an easy decision you made and I for one, think you did the right thing. And I wish more people had the courage to do the right thing once in a while."

"Sometimes I wonder if it was the right thing to do." He said with a sigh.

"Of course it was. You know that."

Flack nodded.

"You need to stop beating yourself up over it and get on with your life all ready."

He gave a small laugh. "I already have Sam as a therapist. I don't need you, too."

"She loves you and worries about you and you need to cut her some slack." Carmen said. "She knows you did the right thing and she respects you and stands behind you no matter what. And I hope to God if she ever needs you to do the same thing, that you will."

"Without a doubt. Anything for her. You know that. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, Carmen. She tell you about the near panic attack I had in Toys R Us yesterday?"

"Actually, she told me that you guys picked out a beautiful crib and that she was tremendously proud of for dealing with things like you did."

He smiled. "She said that?"

Carmen nodded. "And that you called her father and told him what's what."

Flack shrugged it off. "This crap with her dad was eating her up and I couldn't just sit back and watch that happen to her. She doesn't deserve that. So I gave him a call and let him know where I stood and my intentions and feelings for his daughter and that if he couldn't accept that then he had to get used to the idea of never seeing her or his grand kid. 'Cause there was no way in hell anyone was taking her away from me."

"It was a brave thing to do." Carmen said.

"I didn't have anything to lose. I just spoke the truth and that was that. One thing about me, Carmen. I don't bullshit and I don't put up with bullshit. And I get very defensive and possessive when it comes to Sam."

"I know. And that's nice to see. To know you love her that much."

"No one will ever know how much I love her." he said. "Not even her. 'Cause there's no words to describe it."

His cell phone beeped noisily and he snatched it off his belt buckle to answer it. "Flack...yeah...what you got for us, Adam?...that's it?...are you sure?... how many times did she check it?...okay...thanks anyway...bye..." he sighed heavily and hung up. "You want good news or bad news first?" he asked Carmen.

"Hit me with the bad."

"Surveillance tapes were a bust. Sam saw nothing out of the ordinary on the date we estimated for TOD and there are no tapes for days before that. Building system records three days then re-records over the old footage."

"Good news?"

"Danny got a hit off the prints lifted off the prescription bottles. They match the prints lifted off our vic, giving us an ID. But get this, she was in AFIS all ready."

"For?"

"Solicitation of an undercover police officer and prostitution."

"Possible attack by a john?"

"Won't know anything until autopsy comes back. So for now..."

"We go for a little phone sex." Carmen concluded.

"Exactly. Not that I know anything about stuff like that."

Carmen smirked. "Sure, Flack. Sure."

"I've got Sam. She could put these people to shame with the stuff that comes out of her mouth, trust me."

The elevator reached the twentieth floor and Carmen stepped out first. To the right were glass doors with the name of an advertising firm, to the left was TCS Tele-communications. She led the way.

"Promise me you'll behave yourself." she said to Flack as he went to open the door.

"Don't I always?" he asked, yanking the door open for her.

She snorted in response and stepped inside.

* * *

It was the last time that Samantha was going to do anyone any favours. With Carmen out in the field with Flack and Danny busy giving the bad news to Danica O'Neil's mother downstairs, there was no one around to head into the basement to pick up the autopsy report from Sid. And seeing as they needed that report to go any further ahead with the investigation and she had finished up with the surveillance tapes, Mac sent her down into the dungeon as a liaison person.

Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem. She could handle mutilated bodies and those in full decomp and not be bothered by the sight or the smell. Her first ever crime scene had been a body left in a trunk of a car for nearly two weeks and it had almost liquidfied from the heat. It was the one and only time she'd ever been sick to her stomach. After that she'd forced herself to toughen up. And learned how to properly breathe through her mouth to avoid inhaling anything too foul.

But today was a different story. The smell seemed more overwhelming the usual. It was burning her eyes and curdling her stomach and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't block out that scent. Instead she diverted her eyes from the body on the table before her and tried to concentrate on the computer images Sid was about to show her.

"You haven't been down here in a while." Sid commented. "They keeping you locked away up in the lab?"

Sam nodded. "I'm not allowed out in the field any more so I don't get a chance to work this part of the cases. But both Carmen and Danny are busy so Mac asked me to come down and grab the report for them."

"I missed seeing you down here." Sid told her. "You were always so friendly and pleasant. You never let anything get you discouraged. And you never got snappy when things didn't turn out certain ways like some of the others do."

"What's the point of getting that way? You only do the autopsy. You can't help your findings."

"Exactly." Sid enthused. "At least someone understands the bane of an ME. We can't change the way things happened to our victims. It's not like we killed them or anything. Mind you, being in this job, one could probably be able to pull off the perfect murder. We know what toxins are untraceable after a certain length of time, things to do to the body that no one ever finds all the pieces needed for a proper autopsy or identification. And I bet that..."

"Sid..." Sam interrupted him gently. "Can we skip to the findings, please?"

"Of course. I'm sorry. I just get distracted when chatting to someone who at least understands my position with things. It's nice to..." he paused and frowned at the sight of her grimacing face. "Are you okay?" he asked in concern.

"No." she admitted "Can we continue, please? Before I'm sick all over the place."

"Of course. Now, the official COD could have been one of two things. According to the tox screen, Miss O'Neil had a startling amount of prescription meds in her system at time of death. Mixed in with the cold medication also found, the levels were lethal. However, upon further examining of the body, I discovered this..." Sid turned to the computer screen behind him and hit one of the button. "A massive subdural hemorrhage caused by blunt force trauma to the head. More specifically, the frontal lobe of the brain..."

Sid turned to his left and picked up a specimen jar holding the victim's brain.

Sam had to force herself not to throw up when Sid turned to her with that brain in his hands.

"As you can see..." the ME continued his assessment. "The large area of damage to the lobe, which is the anterior portion of the cerebral cortex, which controls such things as motor skills and memory just to name a couple. Now, there was no significant trauma to the skull itself. Nothing to suggest a weapon was used. I did however, find this..." Sid set the jar down and moved to the body, pushing hair off the forehead of the dead girl to reveal a large gash that spread from one side of the head to the other.

"Is it possible that she was delirious from being on so many meds and just passed out and hit her head?" Sam asked.

"Anything is possible." Sid told her. "And that many potent drugs could render someone unconscious and they could fall and hit their head. According to the state of organs and internal body temperature, COD is approximately forty eight to sixty hours ago. I'd love to nail it down closer, but with the high temperatures in the apartment, it sped up the decaying process."

"What about the rape kit?"

"Negative. Signs of recent sexual activity but nothing that suggests assault. And no defensive wounds or trace under the fingernails. Only thing I found was this..." Sid picked up a petri dish and held it out to her.

"One lonesome little pubic hair on the inside of her thighs." he said. "As you already know, fingerprints ID'd her."

Sam nodded. "Danny is talking to next of kin right now. Her mother."

Sid sighed. "I don't envy you people at all having to deliver news like that."

"It's not pleasant." Sam agreed. "So that's it?"

He handed her a case report. "That's it. It was nice seeing you down here again."

"I'd say likewise, but my stomach reveals I'd be lying. Thanks, Sid."

"Take good care of yourself. Get lots of rest and good food to eat."

"Thanks. I will." she said as she left the morgue.

But first I need to find somewhere to throw up, she thought.

* * *

"This is so not what I expected." Flack commented, as he and Carmen stood at the reception desk of TCS Tele-communications, waiting for the boss to arrive after being summoned by the young man answering the business phone in a high pitched, feminine voice.

He was young, no older than twenty, with the slender body of a twelve year old boy on display in skin tight black vinyl pants, even tighter black semi-transparent t-shirt and a Pete Wentz inspired hair do and enough black eyeliner and mascara on to rival any Las Vegas show girl.

And he was making no attempt at hiding the fact he was checking Flack out. In between answering the phone and flipping through a magazine, he was blatantly eyeing Flack from head to toe, concentrating his sights on certain specific areas.

Carmen actually heard the kid sigh dreamily when Flack turned around to look at something and the kid got a look at his ass. And even Carmen, as much as she loved Speed, could not deny that Flack had an amazing ass. Some days she could barely stop looking at it herself.

"Put your eyes back in honey." Carmen said. "He's married."

"Guy or a girl?" he asked.

"Girl." Flack answered quickly. "A very hot girl, in fact. A very hot, pregnant girl in fact. So check out some other guy's package would ya. I like women."

"That's a shame." the young man declared, a disappointed pout on his face. "What a waste."

"She doesn't seem to think so." Flack said.

"You know..." the young man chewed on the eraser of his pencil before suggestively tracing his upper lip with it. "I wouldn't mind finding out if those cuffs are real."

"They are." Flack told him. "And they're not for personal used."

Carmen snorted. "Right...I think you use yours more for personal stuff than you do for work."

"Shhh." Flack said. "Don't encourage it."

"Why? I think it's sweet you have an admirer. In a way, he's kinda cute."

"You're just as freaky as the rest of these people." Flack told her. "Look at this place. Is this what you expected to find at a phone sex place? Cubicles and shit? And the people that answer the phones.Did you really think they'd look like this?"

"What did you think they'd look like?" Carmen asked.

"I expected all these amazingly hot women to be walking around. Look at these people, Devine. How plain and boring they are."

"You are so goddamn gullible Flack. Did you honestly think the women on the other end of the line when you call these places are all Gisele Bundchen and Tyra Banks hot? Get real. Some of them are even guys pretending to be girls. Remember that the next time you pick up the phone and dial."

"I have never and would never, call a place like this." he informed her.

"Oh please! Don't expect me to buy that crap. I bet when you were a teenager or all that time you spent alone between girlfriends when got older..."

"Never." Flack insisted. "Ever. I'd rather do it myself then rely on something like this to do it for me. And with Sam around, I have no cause to do that or this. Half the time I can't even keep up with her."

"What's it gonna be like when she's not allowed to have sex anymore further in the pregnancy? How will you ever survive?"

"We have the internet. Lots on the internet to..."

"Enough." Carmen said, shaking her head. "I do not need to hear about you and your love for porn, okay? I am sorry I brought it up."

"Just joking. Like I said, with Sam, I don't need anything else."

"And you wonder how she got pregnant."

"She got pregnant 'cause she can't say no and doesn't know how to take the pill properly." Flack said.

"And because you can't keep it in your pants."

"You jealous, Devine? Is Speed not putting out enough for you? Not doing the right things? Need me to give him some lessons?" Flack teased.

"What? You are seriously disturbed. You really are. I have no complaints."

"Does he?"

"Flack, enough. Okay? This is why you of all people should not have come here."

"And why's that?" he asked, as a tall, slinky blond in a skin tight mini skirt that barely covered her ass and a halter top that barely contained her gigantic, hideous looking breasts came sauntering towards them, teetering on her impossibly high stilettos.

She gave Flack a flirty smile as she passed by him.

He smirked, his head turning to the side as he watched her go.

Carmen couldn't resist smacking him hard upside the head.

"What?" he asked, rubbing his head. "What did I do?"

"What do you think you did?" Carmen asked in disgust.

"I just looked. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is when you're wife is pregnant and all ready has shit self esteem."

"I'm not going to touch, Carmen. And you can't tell me that Sam doesn't check out other guys. She's human just like I am."

"Don't get all bent out of shape over her David Beckham fantasy. She'll never meet the guy."

"Normal guys, I mean. Out on the street."

"Not when I'm with her. She's a good girl."

Flack snorted. "Yeah, right. Good is not the first word that comes to mind when describing Sam."

"Hey, she comes home to you and gives you more sex than most guys get in a lifetime. I'd say she's very, very good. To you at least."

He smiled. "She is. I have absolutely no complaints. Well, maybe one. The biting thing. She's abusive. I mean, I like the biting thing. It's a turn on. But sometimes she get a little carried away. If I could show my left shoulder right now, you'd be shocked."

"Flack, enough with the kinky sex talk, okay?"

"Like I said, I could give him lessons."

Carmen laughed and shook her head. "Enough. Okay?"

"You are so jealous." Flack said.

"Please. I get enough..."

She was interrupted by a tall, heavy set man with a rapidly balding head and thick grey beard, wearing too short pants and a plaid shirt covered in sweat stains coming towards them.

"These are the detectives I was telling you about." the receptionist spoke first.

"Thanks, Marco. Detectives, I'm Bill Palmer. The manager here at TCS-Telecommunications." he offered each of them his hand.

"Mr Palmer, I'm Detective Flack and this is Detective Devine from the crime lab." Flack did the introductions. "We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

"About?"

"Danica O'Neil." Carmen said. "She was an employee or yours?"

"She still is. Why?"

"Perhaps we could talk somewhere in private." Flack suggested.

Palmer frowned. "Is Danica in some kind of trouble? Has she been seeing clients on the side and gotten into some trouble with one of them?"

"In private." Flack insisted.

Palmer nodded. Nodded down the hallway behind him. "I'll take you to my office."

"Good idea." Carmen said, and followed the man.

"Excuse me, detective?" Marco hurried around his desk to catch up with Flack. "Just in case things don't work out for you and the girl." he said and tucked a piece of paper into the left pocket of Flack's suit jacket, a sly smile on his face. "I know what a man like you needs."

Flack shook his head. "What the hell is wrong with people." he muttered as he walked away.

* * *

"Brooklyn! Danny called as he stepped off the elevator on the thirty-fifth floor in time to see Sam walking past, case folders in hands.

She stopped at the sound of his voice, waited in the middle of the hall for him to catch up. "How'd it go with Danica's mother?" she asked as they fell in step alongside of each other.

"It was pretty rough." Danny replied with a sigh. "They were really close up until her arrest couple years back. She told me that her daughter had always been a good girl up 'til then. Honour roll student, tons of friends. Then he dad passed away and the family fell onto hard times and couldn't keep the place they had and they ended up moving into tenement housing in Washington Heights."

"I have none to pleasant recollections of tenement housing." Sam sighed.

"Guess that's when things just fell to shit for our girl. She had to switch schools, she fell in with the wrong crowd and started drinking, doin' drugs, her grades went down the toilet. You know the story."

"Peer pressure." Sam said with a nod. "We've all been through it."

"For sure" Danny agreed. "Her mother ID the necklace and ring as Danica's and I got a hit in AFIS off the prints Sid took. So now all we have to do is figure out what the hell happened. What's the deal with autopsy?"

Sam handed him the folder. "COD was a massive subdural hemorrhage to the front lobe of the brain caused by blunt force trauma to the front of the front of the head. Sid also found there be near lethal levels of the prescription drugs you found at the scene, along with a mix of the cough syrup. She ingested all of the meds before the head injury."

Danny flipped open the folder, reading as they walked. "Rape kit negative, no defensive wounds. Possible OD? She passed out, hit her head?"

"There's also nothing to suggest there was another person in the apartment at the time she died." Sam added. "Sid estimated TOD at forty eight to sixty hours ago. He said he couldn't be more accurate because the heat in the apartment sped everything up."

"Nothing on the tapes?"

Sam shook her head. "A big nothing. And nothing on the PDA to suggest she was seeing anyone. Did you ask the mother?"

"I did. As far as she knew, no boyfriend. And Speed and I found no trace evidence at there was anyone else in that apartment at the time this happened. No other DNA sample either. So unless we missed something..."

"Highly unlikely." Sam said.

"Exactly. So we're looking at an accident. She took too many meds, passed out, hit her head and BOOM."

"Looks that way." Sam agreed.

"You and the monster hungry, Brooklyn? Wanna come with and grab some lunch?"

"Sure. Where we going to go?"

"Let's go to TGIFs around the corner. My treat."

"You're in a generous mood."

"Gotta kiss up so you'll make me the godfather."

"Danny, you all ready know you are. Don will ask eventually. Trust me."

"You know, the case today really bothered Flack." Danny said seriously.

"Did it? Why?"

"Well, you know the Dean Truby story, right?"

Sam nodded.

"Been almost two years since that all went down. And it still eats at him."

Sam sighed. "He did the right thing, Danny. I tell him that over and over again."

"I've told him tons of times myself. Flack wouldn't have been able to live with himself knowing what Truby had done and not doing anything about it. He's a good guy, Sam. He's got a big heart. We both know that."

"Well I wish other people would see it too." she said.

"Bu this scene today, it was right next door to the warehouse where Truby was gonna sell those drugs from Flack's raid and where he killed that innocent kid. And that was the exact apartment building where we found the other injured paintballer, Cyrus Manlow, who'd been with Kym Tanaka at the time, being held in some crazy lady's bathtub 'cause she thought he was an alien."

"An alien? What the hell is that about?"

"Long story. The important thing is the Truby issue and how the scene today brought it back up to the surface for Flack again. Worries me when he gets like that. He's my best friend. I hate when he beats himself up over stuff."

"Are you trying to suggest something, Danny? Like maybe I should talk to him?"

"Don't think it would hurt. Just casually bring it up."

"I will talk to him. But you know how closed off he can be."

"So give him a little somethin' somethin' to get him into talking."

Sam laughed. "Look at me, Danny. I think he's been getting a little too much somethin' somethin'."

They passed by the reception desk, on their way to the labs to drop off their reports and then head for lunch.

"Samantha?" a voice spoke from behind them. "Samantha Ross?"

Sam turned at the sound of the familiar soft, melodic voice.

A tall, willowy woman in her mid twenties stood before her. Shoulder length light brown hair and light green eyes. Dressed conservatively in a pair of dark grey slacks and black leather high heel boots and a black suede jacket over a simple white blouse.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked in surprise. A cautious, skeptical surprise.

"I needed to come and see you. Talk to you. I hope it's okay that I came here."

"Of course it is. It's just a surprise is all. We haven't seen each other since..."

"It's been a while." the young woman said regretfully."

"Amelia, this is Detective Danny Messer." Sam said. "A colleague and friend of mine."

"A pleasure." Amelia said and offered her hand.

"You too." Danny said with a smile, shaking her hand warmly.

"Danny, this is Amelia Tanner." Sam told him.

Danny arched an eyebrow. "Tanner? As in..."

"Zack's sister." Sam finished.

**Thanks to all of you that are still reading and reviewing. I appreciate every single one of you and continue to write this as entertainment for all of you. Please keep it up and so will I.**


	64. Nothing is more painful than regret

Nothing is more painful than regret

**THIS IS RATED M FOR SOME MILD SMUT NEAR THE END AND USE OF PROFANITY**

"Standing there with him I felt ashamed  
And I said, you know I haven't always been this way

I've had my moments, of days in the sun  
Moments I was second to none  
Moments when I knew I did what I thought I couldn't do  
Like that cool night, on the East Street Bridge  
When a young man almost ended it  
I was right there, wasn't scared a bit  
And I helped to pull him through  
Looking at me you know you might not know it  
But I've had my moments."  
-Moments, Emerson Drive

* * *

When he'd gotten back to the hotel, Tim Speedle had poured himself a stiff drink from the wet bar in his room and downed the triple JD on the rocks in nearly one gulp. He made himself another and then sat on the bed, bedside phone in his lap, making his calls to Miami. He talked to Horatio last, telling his boss that he needed some extra time off so he could stay in New York City longer.

"Can I ask what for?" Horatio asked. "Is everything okay?"

"I need some time off to spend with my kids." he admitted.

He figured he may as well lay it all out on the table. What the hell did he have to loose? His sanity had jumped ship the second he'd laid eyes on those two boys and his brain caught up to the realization that he was their father. He couldn't shake that numb feeling. Or the anger that coursed through him. And for what seemed like the millionth time since that afternoon, he cursed Samantha and wanted nothing more than for her to be around so he could shake some damn sense into her.

Why didn't you tell me? he thought bitterly, Goddammit it, Samantha. You knew you could have told me. That you should have told me. What the hell were you thinking ? I had a right to know. I shouldn't have had to find out like this.

He could tell by the silence on the other end of the line that his announcement had the same effect on Horatio as finding out about the boys that afternoon had had on him.

"H?" he asked, hoping he didn't give his boss a stroke.

"I'm here. What kids, Speed?"

"My kids. I get to New York and gain twins. Boys. They're seven. Daniel and Mackenzie."

"And the mother? Whose the mother?"

"Samantha Flack." Speed told him.

Silence again.

"I see." Horatio spoke at long last. "And how did…."

"That conference way back when in Philly. We met up there and we were both going through some crap and things happened. I wasn't careful and well, this is the result. Surprise? Pretty surreal, huh? I'm having a hell of a time comprehending all of this."

"Quite the shock." Horatio agreed in that understated way of his.

"No kidding." Speed said and sipped his drink, feeling the burn all the way to his stomach.

"What are you going to do about it?" Horatio asked.

"I have no idea. I don't even know if I want to do anything about it. They've just lost their mother, H. And taking them away from their older brother and their baby sister would destroy them. Not to mention what it would do to their father. 'Cause lets face it, that's what he is. He's taken care of them for seven years. Changed their diapers and feed them their bottles and made them feel better when they were sick or hurt. He's given them a great life and for me to just walk in and say, hey, I'm your dad, would majorly screw them up."

"But you are their dad. You just never got the chance to be."

"I don't even know if I want to be." Speed admitted. "I don't know the first thing about kids and I don't want to separate these kids from their family and their friends and what not. Yet at the same time, I want to be around them and feel responsible for them."

"Which is logical. Why didn't she ever tell you?"

"Don't know. Scared to, maybe? Who knows. And it's too late to ask her. I'd give anything to ask her. To say things I should have said to her a long time ago. The way we left things the morning after…" Speed sighed and closed his eyes momentarily, blocking out the unpleasant memory. "it wasn't friendly and I've felt bad about it all this time. I'd love to take it all back."

"But you can't." Horatio said. "And if you could, those two boys wouldn't be here right now. What are they like?"

"Well, they're fraternal. They look just like me H. Same hair, eyes, the whole nine. One of them, Daniel, he's even got OCD just like me. And he's insanely smart. The other one, Mackenzie, he's more the hell raiser type. Like his mother, I guess."

Horatio chuckled softly. "Enjoy some time with them, Speed. Whatever you decide, make sure it's the best decision for them. How much time to you need off?"

"Not sure. It's pretty complicated. The funeral itself was damn near a three ring circus."

"Well, let's start with a couple weeks and go from there." Horatio said.

"Works for me." Speed agreed.

"Keep in touch. Let me know how things are going. Keep your chin up, Speed. You need anything, don't hesitate to call me. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks for understanding."

"Well, I know what it's like to get shocking news. I remember very well how it felt when I found out about my son Kyle. It was a shock to say the least. I understand where you're coming from, Speed."

"Glad someone does." he sighed. "'Cause I sure as hell don't."

"Let me know what you decide." Horatio said.

"I will. Thanks, H."

"Whatever you need, Speed. I mean that."

"I know."

He bid farewell to his boss and hung up. Finishing his second drink, he sat the empty glass on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His mind and his body were weary. His eyes felt heavy.

Yet Tim Speedle knew full well sleep would not come easily.

* * *

He woke with a start. Bolting up right in bed, chest heaving and aching as he attempted to draw breaths, his body covered in a slick, cold sweat. It had been a long time since Speed had had a nightmare. He'd been plagued by them after the shooting and they'd haunted him for a few years until Carmen came into his life and rid every one of his fears. He hadn't had another bad dream since that first night they spent together.

He couldn't even recall exactly what he'd been dreaming about. Just that it had been a bundle of mixed up events from the day. From carrying that casket into the church and standing beside Carmen as she fought to keep her composure during her eulogy, to the argument with Rick on Flack's front lawn and sitting with Daniel on the front porch and thinking……

Holy shit, I have kids., he thought now, as his heart rate began so slow and his breathing return to normal and the ache disappear. Not just one. Two. Two kids that I never got the chance to meet until it was under the worst of circumstances.

He was angry. He knew it wasn't right to be pissed off at a dead woman, but he couldn't help it. Seven years of those kids lives had passed by and he'd never been able to be part of it. Whether it be in person or through Christmas and birthday cards and e-mails on their progress or even pictures. She had had no right to keep that from him. Those kids may not have been conceived under the most loving circumstances but they had still been conceived and he'd played a damn big part in that. She had taken the choice away from him. The choice to either be part of their lives or simply give them up to Flack had been stripped away from him and that's what infuriated him the most. The lack of control over the situation.

He didn't want the twins. He didn't want to take them from the only father they knew, the father that they loved and who had been unselfish enough to love them unconditionally in return. Who had been man enough to step up to the plate regardless of whose DNA those kids had. Flack was a damn good father. He loved them and provided for them. He needed them as much as they needed him. And Speed couldn't destroy two innocent lives like that. Rip them away from everything they knew, especially at such a traumatic time. And selfishly speaking, he didn't want kids. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of one kid, let alone two. And he just couldn't give himself fully to such a commitment.

Yet there was that small part of him that wanted those kids to know the truth. That felt as if they deserved that. So that maybe one day they might call him daddy.

What the hell is wrong with you? Speed chastised himself, wiping sweat off of his forehead with the front of his shirt. You're not their father. You were the damn sperm donor. That's all you are and all you ever will be. You weren't in it that night to have a family. You were in it to get laid, regardless who you hurt or whose life you fucked up.

He sighed and checked his watch. Quarter after ten. Still early yet he was so damn exhausted. He'd managed a lousy two hours of sleep. He rubbed at his weary eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the hideous tension headache he was developing.

Willing away the anger and the pain that lingered inside of him. It ate away at him that he'd left that morning after in such a rush. That he'd been so cold hearted to her and had been unable to meet her guilt plagued eyes and just tell her that he was sorry for dragging her into such a goddamn mess. He never should have taken advantage of her at a time like that. And to this day he beat himself up over the way he'd left things. Over the words he left unspoken .

And now it was too late. He'd never get the chance to say what he'd wanted to say eight years ago.

Tears stung his eyes. His chest ached again. He needed a drink.

Speed got up from the bed and went to the wet bar to pour himself some more JD. Contemplated for a moment drinking it straight from the bottle before grabbing a fresh glass and pouring the amber liquid into it.

His cell phone, discarded beside him on the bed rang noisily. He took a large swallow of his drink and went and scooped up the phone to answer it.

He hit talk. "Speedle." he answered.

"I need your help." Carmen's voice sobbed. "Badly."

His pulse quickened at the sound of her panicked tone. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Is it the kids? Is it you? You guys okay?

"I'm fine…..the kids are asleep…..I…..I need your help…. You're the only person I thought of, Tim."

"What's going on Carmen?"

"It's Flack. He left the house saying he was going to get some air."

"So? What's wrong with that? Guy needs to clear his head."

"He took his gun, Tim. I went into the bedroom to stay with Daniel in the big bed and I saw the lock box open on the dresser. He took his gun and I'm worried he's going to do something stupid. Actually, I know he's going to do something stupid. He's hurting so bad. He thinks he can't get past this. You're the only one that can help me."

Speed was all ready shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his jacket and car keys. He'd been thinking all day that he wouldn't put it past Flack to do something like that and had been hoping and praying he was wrong. Over reacting.

"Where is he now?" he asked Carmen, shoving his wallet and room key card into his back pocket as he headed for the door.

"I don't know. I've tried calling him but he won't answer his phone."

"Here's what I want you to do, Carmen. Are you listening to me?" he unlocked the door and tossed it open, hurrying out into the hallway.

"I'm listening."

"You call the lab and get them to tri-angulate on his cell signal. I'm on my way towards the house right now and I want you to call me when the lab gets a hit. Okay?"

"Okay." she tearfully agreed. "I'm scared. These kids need their father, Tim."

"Don't worry." he told her. "I'll make sure they still have him."

* * *

Flack stood at the railing of the bridge, arms draped over, gun in one hand, eyes transfixed on the cold, black water below him, moonlight dancing on the ripples stirred up by the steady breeze. He'd parked off to the side of the road a couple of hundred yards away. At that time of the night the bridge was barren. Anyone passing by in car or on foot would just take him for someone stopping to think or just taking the time to glance out at the water and the well light city scape.

He reminisced of better, happier times. He concentrated on remembering the sound of her voice and the feel of her hands on his body . The taste of her kiss and the smell of her hair. The way she smiled and her eyes sparkled. The way she loved him. And their children. He needed these last moments to feel her close before taking that final step to being with her again.

He wasn't scared to die. The minute he'd made the decision to become a cop he accepted death as a stone cold reality of the job, and although the thought of how he would go and when it would happen nagged at him, he accepted it as part of his existence. Waiting for that other shoe to drop. The bombing had obliterated all remaining fear he had. He'd come so close to death. Had prayed for it during the long months of recuperation when the pain was so intense and unbearable. He'd come out of it with the mind set that when it was your time to go, it was your time to go. No bargaining or arguing. Just suck it up and take it.

It was Donald Flack Jr's time to go. He couldn't go on with the pain. It was worse than all the suffering he'd ever experienced before. He couldn't face life without her. Without his wife, the mother of his children. His best friend. He didn't even want to try. Everything had been snatched away so unexpectedly and quickly from him. And he couldn't get it back.

She'd forgive him. She'd be pissed at first, but she'd forgive him and understand. It was because of how much he loved her. Adored her. Because of how she'd walked into his dull, lonely, predictable life without warning and transformed it, and him, into something so amazing and surreal.

If only I'd convinced her to stay home from work that day. She was all ready late. Missing one day would not have been the end of the world. If I'd only said all those things I should have said for so long. If I had have told her I loved her and appreciated her more often. If I had just begged her for forgiveness eight years ago. If I could just forgive her for what she did.

He loved her and accepted the boys as if they were his own, but he never forgot what she did to him, and had never been able to fully forgive her. And she accepted that. She knew how much she had hurt him and regretted it every day.

If only we could have started all over again. Wiped the slate clean. If only….

There was nothing more painful than regret.

A figure approaching from the left caught his attention and he briefly glanced over to see who it was.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Flack?" Speed asked.

"You hear to fuck this up for me, too? Like you fucked up my life eight years ago."

"I'm here 'cause Carmen is worried sick. And I can see she had a reason to be."

"How'd you even find me?"

"She got the lab to tri-angulate on your cell signal. We tracked you here. What's going on Flack? Talk to me. Tell me what's going on in your head. Why are you standing here in the middle of a bridge with a gun in your hand?"

"Do me a favour, Speedle. Get the fuck out of here. Don't ruin anything else. "

"I know you're still pissed at me, Flack. I get it. You'll never forgive me. You've got every right to feel that way. "

"You fucked my wife!" Flack snapped. "We were friends, Speed! We were friends and you screwed me over! You took the one thing in my life that mattered and turned her against me!"

"Sam loved you." Speed told him. "There was never a time she didn't love you. She was furious with you and hurt by what had gone down between you guys but there was never a second she didn't love you, Flack."

"If she loved me, she never would have been with you." he said bitterly.

"You smacked her and got rough with her! You threatened to divorce her and take the baby away! You told her you'd make her look like a bad mom. Unstable. You broke her heart and she needed someone. And so did I. I was there and I took advantage of her situation. And I'm sorry."

"You're sorry!?" Flack raged. "You're sorry! You fuck my wife, knock her up and all you can say is you're sorry! Fuck you, Speedle!"

"Flack…."

"Do you know what it was like for me? To love her as much as I did, to love my kids but to look at them every day and know I'm not their father?"

"You are their father, Flack. You've been there from the beginning. They're loved and they have a great life. You're their daddy. I just kicked in the sperm. You're an amazing dad. Better than I could ever hope to be."

"You didn't know what it was like!" Flack argued.

"You're right. I don't."

"To know that your wife is in love with another man!"

"She wasn't in love with me!" Speed fought back. "I was just there at a confusing, scary time in her life. I was a stand in. That's it. You were on her mind the whole time. Shit, she even called me by your name. Repeatedly. She loved you. She told me she did."

Flack snorted. "But it didn't stop you."

"I regret a lot of things. But if it hadn't have happened, those boys wouldn't be here right now. The truth is I needed someone too and she was as much of a stand in as I was"

"Don't stand there and try and condone it!" Flack bellowed.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to…."

"Leave me alone, Speedle. Walk away and leave me alone."

"Don't do this, Flack. Those kids need you. They depend on you. They just lost their mother. Don't do this to them"

"They have lots of people that love them. Hell, two of them have their real father."

"I don't want your kids, Flack. You're their daddy. Plain and simple. Now give me the gun and…" Speed stepped closer, reaching for the gun.

"Don't do it, Speed." Flack backed away. "I'm telling you, don't do it."

"Come on, Flack. You don't want to do this. I know it hurts like a bastard but this isn't going to bring Sam back. It won't solve anything. Trust me, you'll get through this. It's gonna take some time, but you will get through it." he walked closer, slowly, cautiously.

"I said don't do it, Speed! Walk away!"

"Give me the gun, Flack. This is not the answer. Just give me the gun." Speed held out his hand.

"I said leave me alone!" Flack yelled, pulling back on the barrell of the gun to load the chamber, then pointing it at Speed. "Just walk away goddamnit!"

"I can't." Speed remained firm, unwavering.

"If I have to take you with me, I will. Just leave me alone and let me do this!"

"Don't be crazy, Flack. Give me the gun."

"If I have to shoot you to get you the hell out of my way, I will."

"What will this solve, Flack? Nothing. Those kids will have nothing. No mother, no father. Don't do this to them. Think of everyone that loves you and those kids. Carmen will be destroyed. Is that what you want? Stella feels guilty enough about Sam, don't add this to it. And Danny? Danny will never forgive himself for not seeing that you were hurting this bad. Give me the gun."

"Speedle…" Flack fumed. "I am warning you now….."

"Think of Sam. What would she be thinking or saying if she say you like this?"

"She'd call me a selfish asshole." Flack said. "But then she'd forgive me and understand I did it for her."

"She doesn't want this!" Speed exclaimed. "For Christ sakes Flack! She loved you more than life. She would not want this. Now give me the gun and…."

"One more step, Speedle and I'll…."

"What? Kill me? Fine. Go ahead. 'Cause you might as well. I fucked up your life. This is all my fault. You want to kill me? Do it. Be a fucking man and do it."

"You don't understand…"

"I understand if you were serious you would have either shot me or yourself by now." Speed said.

Flack raised the gun to his temple, finger on the trigger. "Is that what you want? You want to see me do it?"

"Give me the gun, Flack."

"Walk away."

"I can't. Now give me the gun!"

"You want this on your conscience, Speedle?"

"No. So let's just call it a night and you give me the gun."

"I can't live without her."

"Yes, you can. Now give me the gun."

"Please." Flack begged. "Just leave me alone."

"If you were serious you would have taken off the damn safety you fucking idiot."

Flack made the error of actually checking his gun.

Speed took the opportunity to haul off and punch his friend in the face, then tackled him flat onto his back, pinning Flack's arms down with his knees and sitting on his chest. The gun skittered across the cement of the bridge and came to rest in the middle of the road. The safety had been off all that time but Speed had taken the chance that Flack would take a look.

"You stupid selfish fucking bastard!" Speed yelled. "Gonna fuck up your kids some more? What is wrong with you!?"

"Get off of me, Speedle!"

"Can't kill yourself with no gun, can you? You stupid ass! This isn't the answer, Flack! You know that!"

"I swear, Speedle, when all is said and done…."

"Shut up! Shut up and listen to me and listen to me good! Your wife loved you! She loved you and your kids and her life! She would not want this!"

"Fuck…..you……Speedle…." Flack managed.

"I will clock you again if you don't shut up. Now this is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna get off of you and you're going to get up and we're going back to your house. Okay? I'm gonna leave my car here over night and drive you back in your car 'cause I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Understand me?"

"Would you just…."

"Understand me?"

"Yes. Okay? Now get off of me. I need some air."

"You ain't gonna attack me are you?"

"No. I just need some air."

Speed climbed off of Flack and journeyed into the middle of the road to pick up the gun. He emptied the bullet from the chamber and took out the clip and pocket them both, then put the gun in the back of the waist band of his jeans.

Flack got to his feet and staggered over to the railing of the bridge once more, leaning against it and wiping the blood from his busted lip with the sleeve of his shirt. He spat blood and saliva over the railing and into the water below.

Speed joined him. "You okay?" he asked.

Flack nodded. "Gotta hell of a right hook there, Speedle."

"My left is even better. You all right?"

"Just tell me one thing."

"I'll try."

"Why? Why'd this happen? Why my wife? Why Sam?" Tears filled Flack's eyes.

"I wish I had that answer, Flack. I really do. Come on…" he laid his hand on his friend's back and led him away from the railing. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"I need an answer. I need someone to tell me why."

"No one can do that, Flack." Speed said with regret.

"I just want to know why." he said and broke down right there in the middle of the bridge. "I just want someone to tell me why."

"I wish I could help you out Flack." Speed told him, and reached out and pulled the much bigger man into a strong, tight hug.

Flack rested his head on Speed's shoulder and clung to him like a child as he sobbed.

Speed rubbed his friend's back comfortingly. "I'll get better," he said. "I promise you."

Flack shook his head.

"I promise you, Don. I promise you this will get better. Each day that goes by, it'll get a little easier."

"I loved her." Flack sobbed. "I still love her and I miss her and I want her back."

"She loved you. And she'd want you to go on. You know that."

Flack raised his head from Speed's shoulder. "How?" he asked. "How do I go on?"

"With a little help from your friends. Let us help you, Flack. Can you do that?"

He nodded.

"Come on. Let's get you home. Where you belong. With your kids. Okay?"

"Okay." he agreed and they began the slow walk to Speed's car. "Thanks." Flack suddenly said.

"For?"

"Giving me the twins. You're right. They wouldn't be here if it never happened. And I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world."

"It took a big man to do what you did, Flack. Accept them. Raise them. Love them."

"Look at me now, though. What's happened to me?"

"You've had a hell of a loss." Speed told him.

"I haven't always been like this. This weak. I haven't always been this way."

"I know. And it's nothing to be ashamed about. You know that, right?"

"I just want to go home." Flack said. "Get drop down drunk."

"What's that going to solve?" Speed asked.

"Nothing. Just make the pain go away for a while. You took my gun away. Don't take away my biggest vice, too."

Speed considered it. "There a liquor store close to your place?"

"Few blocks away. Why?"

"A good fall down drunk is right up my alley. Besides, no one should drink alone."

"I'll be doing lots of stuff alone now." Flack sighed.

Speed clapped him on the shoulder. "Not this night." he said.

* * *

Carmen cried tears of relief when she saw the two of them come through the front door. She been pacing for the last hour and a half since she'd gotten the location of Flack's cell phone, worrying incessantly, her thoughts running away from her and giving her a tension headache so ferocious she felt sick to her stomach. She clung to Flack, not worrying about the blood that stained the front of his shirt, thanking God that he'd been found in time, preventing him from doing anything outrageously stupid. Then giving him proper shit for putting her through such turmoil.

Flack cleaned himself up and put on some fresh clothes before the three of them retreated to the kitchen, Speed setting a monstrous glass of triple Crown and Coke down in front of him before he even had the chance to sit. Carmen politely refused any alcohol the first several times it was offered, but eventually gave in and accepted a much smaller, less potent drink.

The night wore on and glasses were emptied and refilled numerous times. They talked about old times when Speed was still working at the crime lab. About the time Sam experienced her bout of road rage and booted in the tail light of some woman in an fancy sports car that had cut her and Speed off on the way to a crime scene. But not before she climbed into the passenger seat and gave the woman a piece of her mind. Speed recalled the phone call Flack had made to Carmen that night out at the bar. Guys night with Danny, Hawkes and Adam. How he single handedly orchestrated them getting together without even putting too much effort into it. They talked about cases they worked and stupid perps they had caught and the downright absurdity of the job.

But mostly they talked about Sam. About all the good times and the tears they had all shared with her. Of what she had meant to them and they to her. Flack stayed relatively silent. He wasn't quite ready to share any stories that personal yet, preferring to keep them close to his heart, just for him to visit every once in a while. Laughs were shared and some tears were shed at that kitchen table that night. It felt good to laugh, but the pain still remained long after. And would for some time.

By three in the morning, Flack needed help getting upstairs to bed. The heavy alcohol had slurred his words and made his Queens accent nearly impossible to understand. Carmen and Speed, with their arms around his waist and his around their necks, did the best they could to get him to the top floor of the house in one piece. It wasn't easy and Carmen was glad she'd had enough sense to move Daniel back to his bed earlier.

"Jesus Christ, Flack." Speed grunted. "How much do you weigh?"

The big detective shrugged. "Who knows? I don't. Are you calling me fat?"

"Actually," Speed said. "Yeah. I am."

"You have put on some pounds in ten years, Don." Carmen told him.

"Maybe." Flack agreed. "But my wife loves me just the way I am."

"No wonder you didn't crush her." Speed said. "She was all of what? Eighty pounds?"

"She's tiny is all I know. Never say anything about her weight. She freaks. Always asking me if her ass looks big in something. Do I really have to answer that?"

"It's best not to." Carmen said.

"Exactly." Flack agreed. "But ask me, she looks fucking hot for having four kids don't you think?"

"Absolutely." Carmen said.

"Woulda been five." Flack told them. "Did you guys know that? Would a been five? Fifth one never stood a chance."

Carmen sighed. "We know, Don."

"Where are we going?" Flack asked.

"You are going to bed." Speed replied.

"Hey, listen, if you two are goin' to do the nasty, try not and get your Speed seed on my furniture. And keep the noise down. Don't wake my kids."

"How'd they ever sleep with Sam and all her noise?" Carmen asked.

"Easy." Flack told her. "Either cover her mouth with my hand or smother her with a pillow. And practice safe sex. Okay? No kids before marriage. That's a bad move. Causes a whole load or problems. Trust me. It's why we got married before Kieran was born. To calm down the masses."

"You're rambling." Carmen told him.

"Yes." he said with a nod. "I am. I need to go to bed."

"It's where we're heading." Speed told him. "Slowly but surely."

Carmen pushed the master bedroom door open with her foot and she and Speed all but dragged Flack's dead weight inside, unceremoniously dropping him into the middle of the bed. While Speed waited in the doorway, Carmen got the waste paper basket from the bathroom and placed it beside the bed in case Flack got sick during the night, then leaned over him in an attempt to yank the covers out from under him and set a pillow under his head.

Her hair fell over Flack's face as she leaned over him. A soft, loving smile spread across his face and he brought his hand up to gently stroke the back of her head.

"I love you, Samantha." he said. "You take such good care of me. I don't deserve you. Just come to bed. I love you."

Tears burned Carmen's eyes as she pulled away from him. Smoothing his hair back, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"She loves you too, Don." Carmen whispered to him. "Hush now and get some sleep. You'll be okay in the morning."

She climbed off the bed and joined Speed in the doorway. Where they stood, watching Flack falling asleep as if they were concerned parents keeping an eye over a sick child.

"You okay?" Speed asked her.

Carmen nodded, blinking back tears. "I will be. Will you stay here tonight, Tim? I don't want to be alone."

"Neither do I." he said.

"Thank you. For helping me."

"I had to do it. For Flack. For Sam. Lots for me to make up for there. And with you. I don't think I even know where to start."

She smiled tenderly. "I think I know." she said.

"Yeah? When then share the knowledge."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. "I think it's better if I show you." she told him and headed for the stairs.

He watched her go.

"Are you coming?" she asked, pausing at the landing.

"If I do, I won't want to leave." he replied.

"Good." she said. "'Cause I won't let you."

He smiled and followed her.

The rest of his life right there in front of him.

* * *

He had long ago committed every inch of her to his memory. Despite the years that had passed, his memory was still fresh. She felt, and responded just as he remembered. Her body quaking, her hands clutching at him, raking his shoulders and back with her nails, burying her hands in his hair as he explored her beautiful, supple body. Using his lips and his tongue and his fingers to transform her into a quivering, aching form underneath him.

He listened to her whimpers and her begging. Her pleading. His name sounding magical on her lips, causing him to recall simpler, happier times nearly a decade ago. He pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on the present and that incredible woman that he was now buried deep inside of.

"Oh God, Carmen." Speed breathed against her lips as he moved inside of her hot, welcoming body. Feeling her tight around him, her legs circling his waist, drawing him deeper. "I missed you so much…..this feels so good…being inside of you feels so good."

"I missed you, too, Tim. I love you. I never stopped loving you."

"I love you, too." he said and kissed.

She arched against him, encouraging him to move faster, harder. Crying out as his thrusts deepened. He felt so good. His strong, firm muscles under her fingertips. His skin so warm and soft, the taste of his salty sweat on her lips. She'd waited so long. Longed for him since the night he walked away.

And now he was there. A dream come true.

She whimpered as her orgasm neared. He moved harder, concentrating on making her come. When she did he kissed her in an attempt to silence her. She screamed his name into her mouth. Tightened her inner muscles around him, gouged his shoulders with her fingernails.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, watching her as the last of her orgasm ripped through her. Enthralled by the sight of her face and her eyes at the height of her pleasure. Seeing her like that brought on his own release and he buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering as he came deep inside of her.

They lay silent, holding each other. Their bodies trembling and hearts pounding.

Speed finally raised his head and kissed her before pulling out and rolling onto his back. He gathered her in his arms, stroked her hair and her back. "I love you." he said.

"I love you too." she told him.

"You are so beautiful, Carmen. Every inch of you."

"I was worried I wouldn't be what you remembered. That you'd be disappointed."

"Never. I could never be disappointed." he told her.

"Was I what you remembered?" she asked.

"Even better." he declared.

She smiled and snuggled into him. "You realise I can't let you go back to Miami now, don't you?"

"And you realise I don't plan on going back, don't you?" he said.

"You mean that?"

Speed nodded. "My life is here. It's always been here. Wherever you are, Carmen, that's home."

"And your kids are here." she added.

"Those are not my kids." he told her.

"Yes. They are, Tim."

"They're Flack's. DNA aside. They're his kids and it's going to stay that way. They'll know him as daddy. I'd just want to be able to see them. As Uncle Tim."

"Won't that be hard on you?" she asked.

"A little." he admitted. "But it's for the best. For everyone involved. My kids…." he took a deep breath an briefly closed his eyes. "I'm not their father. I never will be. And that's just the way it is."

Carmen decided not to press the issue. She could tell it was bothering him, and that what he needed was some time to think about the situation. She could imagine what a blow that was to him, to find out he had twin sons at such a painful, emotional time.

"Where will you live?" she asked. "What will you do, job wise?"

"First thing I need to do is talk to Horatio and see if he'll arrange a transfer here. If that's not possible, then I can always get back into PI work. As far as living, lots of apartments out there. What are you going to do?"

"I haven't decided yet. I may stay here for a while. Help Flack out a bit. Hell have his hands full. Working full time, taking care of four kids."

"It'll be tough." Speed agreed. "And I think he'd appreciate it and that it's something you need to do. For yourself. For Sam."

Carmen nodded. "And me and you?"

He smiled. "Lets lie here and just enjoy each other and worry about all of that tomorrow."

"I want to enjoy you as much as I can." she said with a giggle and kissed his neck.

"How much is that?" he asked, as she straddled him.

"Well," she replied. "We have nearly ten years to make up for."

"We have our entire lives." he told her.

She liked the sound of that.

**A big, big, big thank you to all that read and reviewed. I appreciate each and every one of you. I have made a resolution to start returning all of my reviews at a quicker time. Please keep reading and reviewing. And enjoying.**

**PLUGS:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention, Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**Mauveine: Someday**

**Laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**Madison Bellows: Positive, What it Means, The Saints Ain't Coming and Playing with Fire (also check out her piece Starting Fires on Fiction Press)**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**


	65. Just a little cooperation

****

Just a little co-operation goes a long way

Everyday is a new day  
I'm reminded of my past  
Every time there's another storm  
I know that it won't last  
Every moment I'm filled with hope  
'Cause I get another chance  
But I will try, I will try  
Got nothing left to hide

I'm beautifully broken  
And I don't mind if you know it  
I'm beautifully broken  
And I don't care if I show it.

- Beautifully Broken, Ashlee Simpson

**A/N: I know this took a long time to get out to all of you. Damn real life. Damn it all to hell. **

**Big thanks to 'My Montana' for her musical genius and to the wonderful Aphina for her great ideas and suggestions. And to them and Bluehaven4220 for all their support and guidance. Far beyond this little fictional world of mine. **

* * *

Despite the news that his self proclaimed best employee had been found dead, possibly of foul play, Bill Palmer didn't appear to be fazed in the least. In fact, as Carmen and Flack sat in chairs in front of Palmer's cluttered desk on his equally as cluttered, musty smelling office, the phone sex boss continued to work on his desk top computer.

"She's dead?" Palmer asked calmly, not diverting his eyes from the computer screen.

"You don't seem to surprised." Carmen said.

"Or too choked up about it." Flack added. "This happen often? NYPD showing up to tell you an employee is dead? Possibly murdered? This old hat for you, Bill? Doesn't bother you anymore?"

"Of course I'm upset." Palmer said. "And shocked. But she was just an employee. I don't get personally involved with my employees."

"I don't get involved with my boss either but they'd be just a little more upset by the news of my untimely demise than you are about Danica O'Neil's." Flack told him, visibly annoyed by the indifferent smug man in front of him.

"Perhaps you have too personal a relationship with your employer." Palmer suggested.

"Hey, look, buddy…" Flack snapped, leaning forward in his seat, as if to get up and nail the guy in the face.

Carmen laid a hand on his arm to calm him down. "Mr. Palmer, how long did Danica work for you?" she asked.

"Three years. I poached her from a rival company."

"Poached her?" Flack asked.

"She was our biggest competitions rising star. Everyone in the industry knew Sugar and Spice."

"Excuse me?" asked Flack, taking out his log book and a pen to take notes. "Sugar and Spice? Who the hell is that?"

"That was Danica's operator name. And her porn name."

"She was a porn star?" Carmen inquired.

"One of the best." Palmer replied. "I'm sure your male counterpart here knows some of her work."

"Uh….no." Flack said. "I have a wife for that sort of thing. She handles that part of my life just fine. So how'd you meet Danica to poach her as you so eloquently put it?"

"At a sex trade show and conference in Detroit. She approached me and expressed interest in leaving the company she was with and working for another."

"If she was their rising star, why'd she want to leave?" Flack asked.

"She was looking for something more secure. With a benefits package."

"There's benefits?" Flack asked incredulously. "You have a benefits package here?"

Palmer nodded. "Prescription, eye glasses, dental…."

"Why?" Flack inquired.

"Why not? Everyone deserves proper care."

"You people talk on the phone all day!" Flack exclaimed. "Who gives a crap if all your teeth are fallin' out of your head? No one even sees you!"

"This is a legit business, detective." Palmer informed him. "And it's very cut throat. You don't offer these things, employees walk. I run a very reputable business."

Flack snorted. "Reputable. Right."

"You don't exactly have the most respected job in the city yourself. All the controversy the NYPD is embroiled in these days. Racial profiling, police harassment, brutality. Just to name a few."

"Bill, you are one step from me getting up and laying some police brutality down on you." Flack warned.

"When was the last time you saw Danica?" Carmen asked.

"Two weeks ago."

"She hasn't worked in two weeks?" Flack arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"She's been deathly ill with a chest infection." Bill told him. "Damn thing nearly wiped this place right out."

"And did you speak to her at all in the last two weeks?" asked Flack. "Up until maybe three days ago?"

Palmer shrugged. "A couple times."

"When?" Flack asked.

"Last week."

"When last week?" Carmen inquired. "Do you remember what days?"

"I can't quite recall."

"Well try." Flack said. "And while you're at it, stop whatever it is your doing there, turn that damn computer off and give us ten minutes of your time. This is a possible murder investigation. We're not here on unpaid parking tickets."

Palmer sighed exasperatedly and put the computer on stand by and turned his chair to face them.

"Thank you." Flack said. "Now when was it you talked to Danica last week?"

"I called her Monday to see how she was. She said she was still very ill and didn't know when she'd be back. I told her she needed a doctor's note to come back after being off that long."

"And the second time?" Carmen asked.

"I talked to her again on Thursday afternoon." Palmer replied. "She called me. Wanted me to call the police because one of her regulars had found out her home number and was harassing her."

"And did you call the police?" Flack asked.

"No. I let it go."

Carmen sighed. "Why?"

"Not the first time it's happened. I thought it would blow over."

"Got a name for this regular?" asked Flack.

"I could get a print out of all her incoming calls for the last month. He calls, on average, ten times a day."

"I won't even comment on how desperate or pathetic that is." Flack said. "Could you get that information for me?"

"Don't you need to get a warrant for that?" Palmer asked.

"I could." Flack replied. "But considering one of your employees just turned up dead and you were the last person to see or talk to her, I assumed you'd do the decent thing and co-operate. You know, as a human being."

Palmer blinked and cleared his throat noisily. Intimidated by those cold, steel blue eyes staring him down from across the desk. "I can call out front to Marco and ask him to get those things ready for you." he suggested.

"Can you?" Flack asked sweetly. "I'd like that very much. And her employee file. Please and thank you."

Carmen bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. She glanced over at Flack as Palmer picked up the phone to make a short, terse call to his receptionist.

Flack grinned, showing off those dimples in his cheeks. "And you say I'm never nice." he said.

"I never said that. I said you're never nice to me."

"Please, Devine, you know that if I was single me and you…"

Palmer hung up the phone and turned back to them.

"Mr Palmer, are you aware that Danica had a record?" Flack asked.

"I was. I hold no prejudices against things like that. It didn't affect her work so I paid no mind to it. We have all sinned. Made mistakes."

"You are so preaching to the choir buddy." Flack said.

"I tend to be a very forgiving person." Palmer added.

"Well, excuse me for letting a criminal record tarnish my impression of someone." Flack said. "You said earlier that Danica had had some previous trouble with clients? What kind of trouble?"

"She had started a little business on the side. If that's what you want to call it. She was acting as an escort for some of her favorite clients."

"Do you know their names?" Carmen asked.

"Should be on her phone records. And there's probably files on her computer as well."

Flack snapped his log book closed. "I'm gonna need that computer." he said.

"Now, detective, that's overstepping…."

"I have a really nice, co-operative judge on speed dial, Mr Palmer. I could also have him give me a warrant to seize every computer and every file in here, including everything of yours, to prove that you're most likely running an escort service out of here as well. So unless you want me to have you closed down by this time tomorrow, I suggest you let me take the computer. And let me and Detective Devine search Danica's cubicle."

"Detective….."

Flack got out his cell phone. "Your choice, Mr Palmer. What'll it be?"

"Okay….okay. Fine, take the computer. Take whatever you want. Just leave my company alone."

Flack snorted and shook his head. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Everyone has to make a living, detective. We all have bills to pay. I have three kids to clothe and feed and put a roof over their heads. Do you have children, detective?"

"One on the way." Flack said. "And I wouldn't want my kid knowing my legacy was pimping out women and supplying people with cheap thrills."

"Same way I wouldn't want my kids knowing my legacy was harassing people and putting innocent men and women behind bars for no other reason than the cheap thrill of having control over people."

Flack smirked and stuffed his log book and pen into the inside pocket of his jacket and stood up. "Thanks for your help, Mr Palmer." he said as he headed to the door. "I'll see you in a few hours with that warrant to take the rest of your computers and files."

Palmer jumped up in a rage. "You can't do that!"

"Actually,." Flack said as he opened the door. "I can."

Carmen hurriedly got out of her seat . "Which cubicle is Danica's?" she asked Palmer.

"Far left corner. Right next to the widow. The one with the firefighter calender hanging in it. Can't miss it. He can't really do that, can he?"

Carmen didn't answer and chased after the homicide detective.

"You're not really going to do that are you?" she asked Flack.

"Naw. But I would love to be a fly on the wall for the next few hours watching him just shit his pants."

She grinned. "So what first?" she asked. "You want to look at the cubicle or go see if your boyfriend has that stuff ready?"

"That is so not funny, Devine." Flack complained.

"He was kinda cute."

"You're disturbed."

"He seems like the passive type." Carmen said. "He'd love it for you to go all aggressive and dominating on him."

"You wanna walk back to the lab?" Flack asked.

"Take it as a compliment. Both sides of the fence find you attractive. If you ever get tired of the female side…."

"I'll pretend you never said that."

"Come on, Flack." she chided him. "Deep down you really liked it."

"You're never going to let me live it down are you?"

Carmen grinned from ear to ear. "Not in a million years." she said.

* * *

Samantha and Amelia sat in a window booth in the far back corner of a small, quiet Chinese food restaurant a block from the crime lab. They were both nervous to be this close to one another again. Uncomfortable as they sat across from one another, silently browsing menus, each wondering how to break the proverbial ice.

A drastic change from their relationship of old. Going out to eat and sharing gossip and girl talk had been a regular thing for them. They'd been exceptionally close since the day Zack had brought Samantha home to meet his family for the first time. The entire family had adored her and welcomed her into their lives with open arms. Had been ecstatic when Zack had announced four years after the start of the relationship that they were moving in together and getting married.

Only to have all the expectations and plans and excitement go all to hell when Zack decided to go and screw everything up and Sam took off with no warning.

There'd been many a time Sam had wanted to call Amelia. To see how her former would have been sister in law was doing. But she'd been afraid of the reception she'd get. Worried that Amelia blamed her for her brother's death.

Amelia herself had contemplated calling Sam just as many times. To see how she was getting on in New York City. And to tell her that she held no ill will towards her and missed her friendship.

The minute she saw Samantha Ross, she knew that she was genuinely happy to be out of Phoenix. The way Sam's eyes sparkled and the way she smiled. Beamed was more like it. Like she'd found the joy in life again and was well on the road to recovery and happiness. There was more, too. Appearance wise. Far beyond the flattering, stylish hair cut and clothes. She was slightly heavier. And healthier looking. And it had taken Amelia a few once overs to realize that Samantha was pregnant. And engaged. That diamond was hard to miss. She stared at it even now, watching is sparkle as Sam nervously used her straw to stir the ice in her water.

Amelia reached across the table to capture Sam's left hand in both of hers. Leaning forward to get a better look at stunning piece of jewellery gracing Sam's finger. "It's beautiful." she praised.

Sam smiled and took her hand back. "Thanks. It was a surprise. I wasn't expecting it so soon. I wasn't expecting to meet anyone so soon for that matter. It just happened. It was like he was waiting her all along for me. I know that sounds ridiculous, but its how I feel. Moment I looked at him, I knew he was different."

"Sounds like he's really something."

"He is." Sam agreed.

"So who is the lucky guy?"

"His name's Don Flack. He's a homicide detective. He works hand in hand with the lab."

"I shouldn't be surprised. You always did have a thing for policemen. And the baby? When are you due?"

"End of February, first week of March. The baby was an even bigger shock then getting engaged. Things have happened pretty quickly in my life since I got here."

"Does it feel right to you?" Amelia asked. "Does it feel sometimes like it's too good to be true? That you're just waiting to wake up from some amazing dream?"

"It does. Exactly."

"That's how I felt when I met Greg. We were only together for two months, remember? And then we got engaged. And look at us now. Still in love and happy four years later even though even questioned it and doubted us. Are you happy, Samantha? You look happy."

"I am. Disgustingly happy. I've never felt this way. Been in love with someone so wholly and completely."

Sam was suddenly struck by the words that had just escaped her lips. A sense of horror filling her as she remembered who was talking to. She felt awful for saying those things to Amelia, regardless of speaking the whole truth. She wondered how cold hearted she had sounded. Saying something like that after spending nearly five years with the young woman's brother. Not all those years were bad. And there was a time she genuinely loved Zack. Just somewhere along the line he'd become a monster.

"I'm sorry." Sam said sheepishly. "I shouldn't have said that. It was a terrible thing to say."

"Samantha," Amelia began, her voice calm and composed. "I don't blame you for hating my brother. You have every right to. What he did to you, the cheating with that girl in your lab and those women he was using….I don't blame you for taking off or being glad that he's dead."

"I never said that." Sam argued. "I never said he deserved to die. I just….I wanted him to pay. For what he did back in Arizona and when he came here to New York. I never wanted someone to kill him. I'm sorry it happened. I'm sorry for you ad your parents."

"And we're sorry, too. For knowing what he was like and what he was doing to you ad not doing a damn thing about it. We should have done something."

"It's the past now Amelia. That part of my life is gone. And it needs to stay gone. For my sanity and for my baby's healthy and the health of my relationship. And if you came here to blame me for your brother or to cause me grief, I'm sorry, but I can't sit here and put up with that. I'm sorry you wasted your money coming here." Sam slipped out of the booth.

"Samantha, please….sit down." Amelia said. "Please. That's not why I'm here. I came here in good faith, I promise you. Please just sit."

Sam sighed and reluctantly sat back down.

"I came here because I missed you and I wanted to see that you're okay." Amelia told her. "I wanted to call you so many times. But I never did. I was too afraid to. But you were like a sister to me and I miss that. And I wanted to tell you that to your face. I hate my brother for what he did to you. I hold no ill will towards you whatsoever."

"You came all the way here for that?" Sam asked. "I appreciate it. I really do, Amelia. But like I said, that chapter of my life is finished. And you didn't need to come all the way to New York to tell me something like this when a simple phone call would have been fine."

"There is one other thing." Amelia told her, opening the briefcase that sat beside her. She pulled out a manila file folder. Laying it on the table, she flipped it open. "This is a copy of Zack's will." she said, turning the folder around for Sam to see it. "The lawyer just read it three days ago. He never changed it after you broke up with him. And he left you everything."

Sam blinked. Shocked. And slightly offended. "I don't want anything of your brother's." she told Amelia.

Amelia pointed to a spot on the paper between them. "He had a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Some of it he made on investments, some he kept hoarded in a savings account no one knew about and the rest was what he had left over from the inheritance he came into when our grandmother died."

"I don't want to hear any of this, Amelia. I don't want anything from your brother." Sam insisted, sliding the folder towards her old friend.

Amelia pushed it back. "He also left you the house and his car."

Sam shook her head adamantly. "I don't want anything."

"You deserve something. Trust me. I know you're hurt and angry, Samantha. But think about how much this money would help. You and your fiance both work for the city. You guys don't make a lot and this city is crazily expensive to live in. You have a baby on the way. A wedding to plan. The money just by itself would give you some financial security."

"I know. But…."

"You could sell the house." Amelia said. "It's worth at least two twenty five. You could even sell the car. Sam, you know you deserve this. That you need this. Stop being so stubborn and just accept it."

Samantha sighed and combed her fingers through her hair.

"I know it's a shock. Me showing up here and telling you this. I'd be blown away. But my brother, as big of a bastard as he was, really did love you. I know he put you through sheer hell sometimes, Sam. But he did love you. This is proof of that."

Sam laughed out loud. "Sometimes, Amelia? Sometimes? Try all the time. There is nothing that can make the pain of what happened go away and I just can't believe that you can care about someone and do that to them. He may have loved me in his own messed up way, but it doesn't change what happened and no amount of money can make it right."

"You have every right to be upset, Samantha." Amelia said calmly.

"Upset? No. I'm not upset. What I am is relieved. Relieved that I got the hell out of there before it was too late and I was either permanently damaged or dead. That I got out of there and came here and met an amazing man that doesn't call me names and doesn't hit me and bash me around. I may not appreciate him as much as I should, but he's a damn good man that made me believe in love again, that I was worthy of having someone love me. And for you to come here, to my city, and tell me your brother loved me is an insult to every man who really knows what that word means."

"I'm sorry. Okay? I don't know what more you want me to say, Samantha. You deserve this money. If you won't take it from Zack, think of it as my family giving it to you. Talk this over with your fiance. I bet he'll agree with me."

"I doubt it. He's more stubborn than I am."

"Think about it, Sam. It's financial stability. Maybe not in the terms of forever, but its better than nothing. Here…." Amelia grabbed a pen from her briefcase and wrote on the inside cover of the folder. "Call me either way. I'm staying at the Regent Park for the next couple of days. This is my cell number and the one for the room I am in. When you make a decision either way, give me call."

She closed the folder and slid it closer to Sam.

"Maybe we can ever get together before I go back." Amelia suggested. "I'd love to meet this man of yours."

"I'll think about it." Sam said. What would I have to do if I decide to go with this? How do I proceed?"

"You'd have to get a lawyer and come to Phoenix to sign the papers."

"I can't fly. Doctor's orders. I have the beginning stages of pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes. She doesn't want me leaving the house half the time never mind getting on a plane."

"You could get a lawyer and have them fly down alone on your behalf." Amelia said. "If you decide in favor of this."

"It's a big if." Sam told her.

"It's your decision, Samantha."

Sam's cell phone, tucked into her purse, rang noisily and she pulled it out. "Work." she said, looking at the call display. "Excuse me?"

"Of course."

Sam pressed talk. "What's up, Danny?" she asked into the phone.

"You still at that Chinese place around the corner?" he inquired.

"I am. Why?"

"Mac wants you to come with me to the crime scene and photograph. Every one else is busy. You free?"

"I can be."

"Be there in like two minutes. I'm getting in the truck now." Danny hung up.

Sam pressed end and tucked the phone back into her purse. "I'm sorry. I have to go." she told Amelia, slipping out of the both and grabbing her coat and yanking it on. "Duty calls."

"I meant it, Samantha. Call me. Regardless. It would be nice to just hang out again."

"It would be." Sam agreed, digging two fives from her pants pocket to cover the cost of her barely touched lunch. "I'll give you a shout before you go back. I promise."

Amelia got out of the booth and hugged her friend. "I missed you, Sam."

"I missed you, too." she said sincerely, embracing her in return. "And I'm sorry things turned out the way they did."

"I'm just glad you're okay. That you've met someone incredible. Try telling him how much you appreciate him some time. I'm sure he'd love to hear it."

"He deserves to hear it." Sam said, then let go of her friend and scooped the file off the table. "I promise I'll think about all of this."

"It's all I ask. Be careful out there Samantha."

"Always." she said and hurried towards the front entrance of the restaurant.

Amelia hoped it wasn't the last time she'd see Samantha Ross.

* * *

Speed yawned noisily. His eyes were on fire. He needed caffeine. His ass was sore from being parked on it in front of a computer for the last hour. Muscles in his back tight from being hunched over a microscope in trace for two hours prior. In front of him, hooked up and ready to go was Danica O'Neil's work computer and 'business' cell phone. Beside him, Adam was just firing up the victim's lap top and home PC.

"Who wants to make the coffee run?" Speed asked. "I think the last time we did something like this it was me."

"Do I look like a receptionist?" Adam inquired, all ready getting to his feet.

"Thought of you in a skirt and blouse does little for me, Ross. Sorry." Speed quipped, pulling a crinkled five dollar bill from his pants pocket and holding it out. "Extra large, black, two sugars. Thanks."

Adam waved the money off.

"What? You rich all of a sudden?"

"My sister leant me some cash 'til payday." Adam explained, heading for the door.

"Should hit her up for a loan." Speed said.

"I think it's more Flack's money. Sam's nearly as poor as I am with all her old student loans she's still working at paying off. How the hell those two will ever afford to feed a kid is beyond me."

"Sometimes that's not the first thing on your mind. You're usually too busy having the fun and then getting yourself into the situation and worrying about what the hell you're going to do. They'll be fine. Flack will make sure of that."

"Thank God." Adam said. "'Cause my sister would loose her head if it wasn't attached."

"Remind me when I have kids never to leave them alone with her." Speed joked. "You mind picking me up something to eat while you're down there? Muffin or something? I'm starving."

"Anything else? My right arm? A kidney?"

Speed grinned. "You're spending way too much time working with your sister. Her mouth is rubbing off on you."

"She's a bad influence." Adam declared and left.

* * *

Gus hadn't spoken to Adam since late last night, when she had to all but force herself to leave his place and return to her own. She hadn't wanted to leave. She felt so comfortable there. With him. She didn't have to be anyone but herself around Adam. He accepted her as is and showered her with compliments and affection. Like she was the most precious thing in the world and nothing else mattered to him except for her happiness. It was way too early in the relationship to be thinking long term. She wasn't even sure if it was a relationship. All she knew was that she liked him. A lot. And she liked the way he made her feel and the things he made her feel.

She came to the lab on her lunch break to tell him just that. Compelled to get the thoughts out into the open. To hear his reaction. She'd never been that bold with a man before. But then again, she'd never been that eager about any of the other men she'd been involved with. Adam was different. He was loving and unselfish and compassionate. And oh so adorable. There was no way she was letting a guy like that get away.

She stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fifth floor. Planning in her mind what she would say, what she would do. And how she'd react if, God forbid, he wasn't feeling the same things she was.

Go and have a good old fashioned get shit face session, Gus thought, her stomach uneasy with nervousness and anticipation as the elevator climbed closer and closer to her destination. Alcohol wasn't the answer for anyone. It wasn't a permanent solution to a problem. Just a temporary mask. And she'd told a numerous patient that in her years in her profession. But sometimes it was easier to not practice what you preach.

The elevator chimed as it reached the floor and the door slid open. She stepped off, lost in her thoughts, not paying attention to where she was going or who was in front of her. Then finding herself buried face first in someone's chest as a result.

"Shit…." she cursed, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to nearly trample you."

"I can think of worse fates then being trampled by a beautiful woman." a familiar voice said.

She looked up and smiled, immediately warmed by those amazing turquoise eyes. "Hi." she said simply.

He beamed back at her. "Hi."

"I was just coming to see you. I thought I'd stop by on my lunch. Are you busy?"

"I was just heading downstairs to get some coffees and stuff to eat. We're caught up with this pretty big case so I don't have a lot of free time right now."

Gus' face fell. Along with her spirits. "Oh." she said, hoping she didn't sound too disappointed. Because apparent disappointment would make her seem to needy and anxious for something that may or may not be there.

Adam sensed the abrupt change in her mood. Saw it in her eyes. "You want to come with me?" he asked hurriedly. Feeling the need to make up for something, but not quite sure what that something was. "It's just downstairs to the cafeteria. I could buy you a coffee, spend a few minutes together?"

"I wanted to come here and tell you that I really like you and I hope that what happened between us wasn't a one time thing and I hope that you're feeling the same way and what more from it than just amazing sex." Gus blurted out.

Adam blinked. "Okay……"

"Jesus." Gus slapped her forehead with her palm. "I can't believe I just said that. Obviously it was the wrong thing to say, you standing there with that deer in the headlights look on your face."

"Gus…." Adam attempted to explain.

"I knew this was way too good to be true. Feeling like this. Look at you, you don't even know what to say. I just went and opened my big mouth and you don't even feel the same way."

"Gus…" he tried again.

"Never should have convinced myself this was a good idea. Bad mistake coming here. I'm sorry, Adam. I shouldn't have come here." she turned to the elevator. "I'm sorry."

"Gus." he said one last time, more forcefully, and grabbed her and pulled her into him for a smouldering kiss that made her hair stand on end and her toes curl.

"Wow." she simply said when it ended.

"I really like you too, Gus." Adam told her, one hand on the side of her face, the other on the small of her back, looking deep into her eyes. "And I'm glad that what happened between us meant as much to you as it did to me. I just wish we could run out of here right now and spend the day together. But…."

She smiled warmly. Relief washing over her face that she hadn't made an ass out of herself after all. She saw the sincerity in his eyes. Heard the tenderness in her voice. "You just made my entire day." she told him.

"It would make my day if you'd come and get a coffee with me and give us at least five minutes alone. Believe me, I wish I could give you more than that." Adam said.

"It's okay." Gus assured him. "I understand. You're an integral part of this lab. They need you."

Adam blushed. "Well I wouldn't go that far. But it would be nice to be appreciated more."

"I appreciate you." Gus said, standing on her tiptoes to press a feathery kiss to his lips. "Now how about that five minutes?"

He grinned. "If you said ten, I'd say I heard rumors about the janitors closet on the ninth floor."

"Well one day when you have more time, maybe we should see if the rumours hold true." Gus told him, kissed him one last time and turned for the elevator, dragging him along by the hand.

"Wish this was my lunch hour." he grumbled.

* * *

Speed had just managed to hack his way into Danica O'Neil's secure files on her work computer when he saw the tall, broad figure of Flack standing in the doorway of the AV lab.

"You just dropped them off forty five minutes ago, Flack." Speed said. "I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"Nothing off even her home stuff?" the detective asked.

"Adam hasn't even started on them yet. He's been going over the surveillance tapes again to see if Sam might have missed something."

"Did she?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary on those tapes. Nothing. So as soon as Adam gets back, he's going to start on the computers. How'd it go with the phone records?"

"All I know is that there's a lot of sick, desperate people out there. Some of these guys call over a dozen times a day. One guy in particular, called over forty times in the span of three days shortly before our girl was off sick. Tracked him down but he's got an air tight alibi for TOD."

"Which is?"

"He was down in Central lockup for indecent exposure."

Speed snorted. "That should not surprise me with these people."

"Anyway, I wasn't really here about the computers. I was here get Samantha. Only I can't find her anywhere and her cell phone is conveniently turned off."

"Call Danny."

Flack arched an eyebrow. "Danny? Why?"

"She's with him. Mac got her to go with him to the crime scene to take photos. You know, give her a chance to get out of the lab before she snaps and kills someone."

"She's with Danny? At a crime scene?" Flack needed some clarification.

Speed didn't have to look at Flack to know the man was pissed. He could hear it in his voice and sense it. He knew the thought of Sam not being confined to the lab was a source of massive stress to Flack and that the idea of something happening to her drove Flack nuts.

"It's just to take photos." Speed said defensively. "Nothing major."

"She's suppose to be in the lab and only in the lab." Flack seethed.

"Mac just wanted to give her a sense of purpose I guess. You know how she's been since getting quarantined to the lab. Hard for her to deal with. Cut her some slack."

"Cut her some slack? Would you be saying that if it was Carmen?"

"Well, no. But…."

Flack shook his head in disgust and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Speed asked.

"To kick someone's ass." Flack replied.

* * *

Danny used the key to the Avalanche to slice through the seal on Danica O'Neil's apartment door and pushed it open, letting Sam pass through before reaching for the light switch in the front hallway. The skies outside were getting dark and stormy and there'd be no way they'd see anything without the lights on.

"How's it feel to be out of purgatory, Brooklyn?" he asked, leading the way to the living room.

"Like I've been re-born. Are you sure Mac said this was okay?"

"He's the one who told me to bring you along. Guess he hates seeing you walk around moping all the time. Thought he'd give you some fresh air. Let you see sunlight. Not that there's much right about now. So what was that all about at the lab earlier? Zack's sister showing up?"

"She was in town for some business." Sam said. "Thought she'd catch up."

"You guys were close?"

"Best friends. Things kind of fell apart when I left Arizona."

"Understandable." Danny said with a nod. "She's not a fan of her brother's, huh? If she still wants to keep in touch with you."

"Not many people are fans of his."

"She was surprised? To see you now? Engaged, baby on the way?"

"A little." Sam replied. "So exactly what are we here for?"

"Take a look at the coffee table. If we figured right, about her being doped up and passing out and hitting her head, there'd be some kind of mark on the coffee table."

Danny sat his kit on the couch and snapped it open. He took out a flashlight and switched it on and crouched down alongside the coffee table to get a better look at it. "Didn't notice anything before, but I wasn't looking for anything this morning."

"See anything now?" Sam inquired, glancing around the apartment.

"Nothing. Which makes no sense." Danny sat back on his heels and sighed in frustration. "Makes no sense. No DNA, no trace, no nothing. And if she had have passed out and hit her head, then there'd be something to show on the table. I can't explain it."

"I think I can." Sam said. "Just from a quick observation."

"Okay. Let's hear it."

"First off, look around this room. All the furniture matches. The trim on the couch is natural wood which goes with the bookcases, the desk, the two end tables and the behind the couch table. You're not going to match all of this up and have a coffee table that doesn't match. It's metal. With a glass top. Looks terrible with everything else. And at first blush, I'd say she was pretty anal about making sure things didn't clash. I have a thing myself against mixing different colours of wood furniture."

"Yeah?" Danny asked and stood up. "But no one ever said you were normal."

Sam ignored him. "Second of all, look at the indents in the carpet under the table. They don't even match up with the table that's here. There was obviously a larger, heavier table that sat here for a long time to dig in that bad. And the impressions match the legs on the end tables."

"Broke her other coffee table and got a new one?" Danny suggested.

"Or someone else broke it. Or damaged it. By smashing her head off of it." Sam said.

"You know, we could have been done with this damn case hours ago if you'd come along sooner. So where's the other table?"

"Does this building have a back dumpster area? That's the place to look. You're not going to carry a coffee table that far."

"Wanna come with or you okay waiting here?" Danny asked.

"I'll be fine waiting here. Rick Santucci is outside the door. He's a friend of Don's. He won't let some weirdo come in here and do crazy shit to me."

"Shouldn't really leave you alone." Danny said. "Flack'll kill me if anything happens to ya."

"What's going to happen to me with a uniform outside the door? Go ahead, Danny. I'll be fine. I get bored and I'll go and wait in the truck."

"Anything happens, and I mean anything, you come and get me, all right?"

"You're starting to sound like Don. Paranoid."

"Man loves you and his kid. Just wants you guys to be safe. And bad shit seems to follow you around. Be back in a few."

"Okay." she said, and helped herself to a pair of gloves from his kit. "I'm going to take a look around." she told him as he headed for the door. "In case you rookies missed something else." she winked at him playfully.

"Easy, Brooklyn. Easy." Danny laughed as he left the apartment. "Keep a damn good eye on her Santucci." he said to the young uniform parked by the door. "Flack'll tear your head off and shove it up your ass if anything happens to her."

* * *

Sam rolled her eyes at Danny's warning to the uniform officer and snapped the gloves on . Closing the kit and picking it up, she journeyed into the nearby galley kitchen to snoop around. She'd missed being out in the field and even this small bit of investigating made her feel worth while. As much as she loved her brother, being stuck inside with him every day was getting a little much. And she still had roughly another three months to put up with it.

There was a stack of mail nearly four inches thick on top of the microwave and she picked them up and flipped through them. Heating bill, electricity, numerous credit card statements and some overdue notices. Several, in fact. But certainly not something that someone would kill you over. Unless the collection agencies rented out mercenaries to get their money. She put the mail back and opened the cupboards. They were sparse. Nothing but enough dishes for two place settings, a few glasses in one and a box of granola cereal and some canned goods in the other. The last cupboard however, was stocked full of canned Slim Fast powder and prepared diet drinks. Along with packages of meal supplement pills.

Talk about screwing yourself up for the sake of loosing a few pounds, Sam thought, closing the cupboard back up. She must have been eating something. Live like that and you'll be invisible.

She turned to the fridge and opened it. Surprised, and dismayed, to find little more than bottles of vitamin water, a package of prepared salad greens and a bag of grapes. She closed the door and opened the freezer. Again no food, but something intriguing caught her eye. On the door of the freezer, a rolled up wad of cash held together with an elastic band.

"Nice." Sam said aloud, snapped a picture and then picked the money up, backing away from the fridge and shutting the freezer door.

She'd been so engrossed in her search that she hadn't hear anyone come into the apartment, and now, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Startled, she jumped back and nearly caught the back of her head off the cupboards behind her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Flack asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Not scaring the shit out of someone like you apparently like doing." Sam snapped. "First the dumpster, now this? Wouldn't have been so funny had I cracked my head open or peed myself."

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" Flack asked. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to eat. What does it look like I'm doing? I'm working. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to drag you back to the lab kicking and screaming. You're suppose to be working back at the lab. And only the lab."

"Don't start." Sam said. "Mac let me out on parole for an hour. Relax."

"You know what? Quit your shit and let's go."

"I'm not done yet." she said and pulled the elastic band off the money. "Check this out. This is some heavy duty cash. There has to be over a grand here."

"So put it in an evidence bag and let's go."

"Would you just wait? What are you so upset about?"

"You were told no field work. None. And where do I find out you are? In the field."

"Take it easy, Don." she said and calmly thumbed through the money.

"You are a stubborn fucking bitch sometimes." Flack told her, grabbed an evidence bag from the kit sitting on the floor and snatched the money from her hand.

"I was counting that!" she protested.

"Count it when you get back to the lab." he dropped the money into the bag and sealed it and held it out to her. "Let's go."

"You can be a real ass." Sam informed him. "Stop treating me like this. I'm not a baby."

"No. You're not. But you're having my baby so I have a say where the hell you go and what you do. And right now, I say let's go. Get your kit and…."

"It's Danny's."

"Then we don't have to bring it then. Come on." he laid a hand on her back and gestured towards the door with his other hand.

"This is bullshit." Sam murmured and headed from the kitchen. "You act like you're my father. Or my jail warden. Not sure which is worse."

"Thought you liked the whole jailer thing. You're into the handcuffs I know." he said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah? Well you're going to be sleeping on the couch for a very long time." Sam declared as they left the apartment.

Danny was coming down the hall towards them, a wide victorious grin plastered across his face. "What are you doin' here?" he asked Flack.

"What were you thinking Danny? Bringing her to a crime scene?" Flack ignored the question and posed one of his own.

"Mac okayed her coming to take some pictures. What's the huge deal?"

"She's suppose to be in the lab. That's the huge deal." Flack replied. "Then you go and leave her alone in the apartment?"

"Scene was secured long time ago." Danny said. "And there's a uniform parked at the door. Nothing was going to happen to her."

"Anything can happen. You know that."

"Excuse me? Hello? I'm right here." Sam complained.

"She was just here taking pictures, Flack." Danny told his friend. "You need to give it a rest with this overprotective, smothering bullshit. The scene was secure, uniform right outside the door and I was gone for less than twenty minutes. So quit bustin' my balls and riding her ass. No harm, no foul."

"What did you find?" Sam asked, anxious to change the subject.

"You were right, Brooklyn. Found the vic's matching coffee table out back by the dumpster. Corner of it was splintered and there was a large blood spatter on top and smaller blood drops on the leg. The things in the truck waitin' to go back to the lab. You find anything of interest?"

Sam held up the bag with the money in it.

"Shit." Danny said, shaking his head and whistling. "That's a whole lot of Benjamins. Where you find that?"

"Freezer. Only question is why was it in there? And why did she have this kind of cash on her?"

"And how'd she come by it." Danny added.

Flack's cell phone rang noisily and he pulled it from his pocket. "Flack." he answered. "What ya got for me, Adam? Tell me it's good news."

Danny looked at Sam and arched his eyebrow curiously as Flack listened to Adam ramble on the other end of the phone.

"All right. Thanks. I'm on my way." Flack hung up and slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket.

"What's the word?" Danny asked.

"Adam found Danica O'Neil's client list. One of them sees her four out of seven nights. He ran the name through the database, turns out he's a convicted felon. Spent six years in Rikers for sexual assault and domestic battery. And get this, the night before supposed TOD, our boy gave her three grand for her services."

Sam shook the bag of money. "If we print this and it leads back to him and if Danny can get some fingerprints or DNA off that coffee table….."

"Case closed." Danny concluded.

**Thanks to all of you are faithfully reading and reviewing. I am so grateful to all of you. Please keep it up and sending all your reviews, e-mails and Pms. I love hearing from you guys. Thanks for all of your support. Love ya all.**

**Todays plugs:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**Mauveine: Someday**

**Madison Bellows: What it Means, The Saints Ain't Coming**

**Evaflack01: For Kate's Sake**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**

**Forest Angel: Coming Home**


	66. Little dog, big bite

**Little dog, big bite**

"You and me  
We're in this together  
None of them can stop us now  
We will make it through somehow  
You and me  
If the world should break in two  
Until the end of me  
Until the end of you."  
-We're in this Together, Nine Inch Nails

**A/N 1: I want to extend my huge thanks to 'my Montana', Aphina, laplandgurl and Bluehaven 4220 for being there far beyond the realms of fiction. God bless all of you.**

**A/N 2: If you want to borrow anything, please, please just ask. I don't mind, but asking would be appreciated.**

* * *

"This is your suspect." Adam said, handing Flack a computer print out on NYPD mug shot as the homicide detective stepped into the AV lab.

The man in question looked like many of the junkies Flack had arrested in his time. Dark circles and excessive bagging under his beady black eyes, stringy, dirty hair and sunken cheeks. Excessively blemished skin and a spaced out, where the fuck am I, what's my name? expression all over his face.

"His name is Thomas Strickland." Adam continued, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pen between his fingers. "He's forty two and spent six years in Rikers for sexual assault and domestic battery. According to her lap top, Danica O'Neil and him had a scheduled appointment for the same night as her estimated TOD. In one month alone, he saw her twenty times. Sometimes even twice a day. On top of all the other guys she was seeing."

"How many guys we looking at?" Flack asked, taking a seat on the edge of the work station.

"Final count is fifteen." Speed replied, stretching in his chair, his back cracking noisily.

"Busy girl." Flack said.

"And check this out." Adam sat forward and hit a key on the lap top open in front of him. "This is a list of her clients. After each name is the amount of money she received from them after their visits. I added it up. One week alone she made over eight grand."

"Explains the designer clothes and expensive electronics." Flack commented. "Was this Strickland guy the only one she saw the day of TOD?"

"The only one." Adam confirmed. "He was also seeking out her services at work."

"I also found instant messages between the two of them that Danica saved on her work computer." Speed spoke up. "Very explicit messages to be exact. Seems like the two of them were carrying on quite the relationship. Couple I love you's exchanged a few times even. Guess it was a love hate thing."

"Trust me I know what that's like." Flack said. "How much money did Strickland give her Adam?"

He consulted the schedule in front of him. "Thirty five hundred."

"Sam found a wad of cash in the vic's freezer." Flack told them. "She's down counting it and printing it right now. Didn't look like no three and a half g's to me."

"Maybe Danica spent some of it." Speed suggested.

"Or maybe the money in the freezer is from another time or person and this Strickland guy never gave her the three and a half grand." Adam spoke up. "Or he did and then took it back. 'Cause if she died the same night, she wouldn't have had time to spend any of it. And money always causes huge fights."

Speed and Flack both stared at the lab tech.

"What?" Adam asked self-consciously.

"Where'd that sudden burst of detective thinking come from?" Speed asked.

"I am a detective without the badge, Speedle." Adam replied. "And besides, someone needs to be the brains of this operation."

"Doesn't make any sense why we didn't find any trace of anyone else being with Danica when she died." Speed said.

"Luck, maybe." Flack said with a shrug. "Danny and Sam figured out the original coffee table had been swapped for a replacement. Danny found the original in the building's dumpster area and it's damaged and has blood on it."

"The vic's?" Speed asked.

"Still waiting on DNA." Flack told him.

"No signs of a struggle though." Speed said. "Why didn't she fight back?"

"Too doped up." Adam suggested. "So he took advantage of it."

"Quit that." Flack said.

Adam looked perplexed. "What?"

"Being smarter than us." Flack said.

"Well if you didn't make it so easy…."

Flack glared at his soon to be brother in law.

"I'll shut up now." Adam said and turned his attention elsewhere.

"Side note on Strickland." Speed told Flack. "I made some calls. He hasn't checked in with his PO in over two weeks. Direct violation of his parole conditions."

"Which is reason enough for me to bring him in while we wait for those test results to come in."

"Need some back up?" Speed asked.

"Wouldn't hurt."

Speed pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up. "I need some action. My ass is killing me from sitting for too long. Maybe Sam wants to tag along."

Flack smirked. "Very funny, Speedle."

"You need to knock off that overprotective daddy thing." Speed informed him.

"Mind your own business." Flack said as they headed for the door. "Thanks Adam. Great work."

The lab tech grinned proudly. "I aim to please." he said.

* * *

As rain hammered down and thunder rumbled outside, the skies sullen and dark, Flack and Danny found themselves sitting across the interrogation table from Thomas 'Tommy' Strickland, who was sweating profusely and shaking like a leaf, coming down off of some high while nursing a split lip with a handful of paper towels.

"You've been a bad boy, Tommy." Flack said, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbows. He'd long discarded his jacket. Despite the seasonable tempers outside, some dumb ass had decided to jack up the thermostat in the precinct, making it disgustingly hot and nearly unbearable. "You haven't been to see your parole officer in a while."

"Yeah?" Strickland snorted. "I've been busy."

"Apparently a little too busy." Danny said. "We pick you up a hundred yards from your ex's place? The same ex you were convicted of raping and beating until you put her in the ICU? Ever heard of an order of protection? She's got one against you that states you can't be within five hundred yards of her."

"That's nothing put a damn piece of paper." Strickland declared.

"It also happens to be another parole violation." Flack informed him. "No contact or attempt to contact your ex. You forget about that?"

"Wasn't gonna contact her." Strickland said.

"You were just gonna camp out by her place?" Flack asked. "Watch her come and go? There's a word for that."

"It's called stalking." Danny chimed in. "That's an offence too, you know."

Strickland smirked. "Really?" he leaned sideways and bent over and spit bloody saliva on the floor. "Ya coulda fooled me."

"Play nice, Tommy." Flack said. "We're playing nice with you. Well, now we are."

"How's the lip?" asked Danny.

Strickland nodded at Flack. "Pygmy bastard punched me."

"You tried to bite me, Tommy." Flack reminded him. "You think I was just gonna stand there and let it happen? We're on speaking terms again, aren't we? You forgive me, Tommy?"

"I should sue your sorry ass." Strickland snapped.

"Go ahead. Trust me, no financial windfall there. I'll gladly pass over my debt though. Besides, have you ever heard of resisting arrest? Don't push me, Tommy. Be nice."

"Seeing as your feeling so chatty," Danny said. "Maybe you can answer some questions."

"I got nothing to say to you two about my ex."

"That's fine." Flack said. "We don't want to talk about her anyway."

Danny opened up a case folder sitting in front of him and pulled out a glossy eight by ten photograph and sat it on the table, pushing it towards Strickland. "We want to talk to you about her." he said.

"Don't know her." Strickland said and pushed the photo back across the table.

"Take a better look." Danny said, once again sliding the photo along the table. "Go on. You remember her?"

"Nope."

"Really?" Flack asked. "You telling me you don't recognize the woman you supposedly love? Don't know about you, Tommy, but I'd know my wife by looking at her picture."

"I have no idea who she is." Strickland insisted.

"Don't play stupid with us." Danny said. "We found your name in Danica O'Neil's computer. All three of them to be exact. We know that you were involved in some sort of relationship with her. We came across your appointment schedule and your instant messages."

"We also have a running total of all the money you've paid her in the past six months alone." Flack added. "Over sixteen grand. Now you tell me where a guy working the docks gets cash like that."

"I'm an entrepreneur." Strickland said.

"You dabble in your own stash, Tommy?" Danny asked. "Or you just sell it? What is it anyway? Coke? Meth? Heroin?"

"I am making my money the good old fashioned way." Strickland replied. "Working hard."

"You were pimping out Danica O'Neil weren't you." Flack said. "You were her biggest customer and you figured, all the money you were spending on her, you may as well make some for yourself. Don't look at me like I'm clueless, Tommy. I called some of the guys in her computer. Couple of them are buddies of yours. And they were pretty forthcoming with the fact you arranged rendezvous' with Danica. How much of a cut were you taking? Fifty percent? Forty?"

"Why'd you kill her?" Danny asked.

"I don't know what either of you are talking about." Strickland remained indignant.

"We have you Tommy." Flack said, leaning across the table. "We know you were the last one to see her before she was killed. And in a few minutes, I'm gonna get a call that is going to confirm to me that we also have your fingerprints not only on the coffee table you smashed Danica's head off of, but the stack of money one of my investigators found in Danica's freezer. So why don't you start telling us what the hell happened that night?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up." Strickland suggested.

"She was your cash cow." Danny said. "She was bringing you in some good dough. Why'd you kill her? She was tired of the lifestyle or wanted to be able to keep a bigger cut? Maybe she wanted to break away from you and you couldn't bear the thought of loosing all that business. We found an e-mail she sent to her mother last week that she was planning on getting herself turned around. Cleaning herself up and moving back home and going back to school to better herself."

"That must have really pissed you off." Flack said. "You guys get into a fight about her moving on? Tough girl like Danica woulda been able to fight you off normally, but considering all the meds she was on and mixing them with a cold medication, you would overpower her pretty easily."

"She woulda been pretty outta it." Danny added. "Not in fighting spirits to say the least. What happened? You grab her and smash her head into the table or did you push her and she fall?"

"What's wrong, Tommy?" Flack needled him. "You were so talkative before? All of a sudden you clam up?"

"Truth hurts, doesn't it." Danny said.

A knock came to the door. Strickland, tweaked on drugs, jumped as if a bomb had gone off in the room.

"You got thirty seconds to cough up the truth." Danny said as Flack got up to answer the door. "'Cause when Detective Flack gets the information on the other side of the door, you're gonna be wishing you were more co-operative."

"I got nothing to say." Strickland said.

"Sure you don't." Danny snorted.

* * *

"What you got for me, Carmen?" Flack asked as he slipped out of the room.

Carmen handed Flack the bag with the money in it. "Sam just confirmed that there were two sets of prints on the money. One set matches our vic, the other matches our perp. She also found some partials underneath those prints to suggest that the money originally came from a third party. But she couldn't get anything usable off of the partials. Her finding is that the third party handed the money to Danica and that Tommy Strickland touched the money sometime afterwards."

"Maybe when he was attempting to skim from it or steal it." Flack said.

"There's no real way of telling unfortunately. But all in all there was twelve hundred dollars. Whether or not there was more, we'll never know."

"What about the coffee table?"

"Blood matches Danica. We also retrieved Strickland's finger prints and his DNA off of a nearly missed saliva sample."

"No other donors?" Flack asked.

"Just him."

"Thanks, Carmen." Flack said and went back into the interrogation room while she joined Speed in the viewing room.

"You've been lying to me, Tommy." Flack said, dropping the bag of money onto the table . "You wanna tell me about the money? Or do you want me to tell you?"

"You know everything it sounds like. You tell me."

"Your prints are on that money, Tommy. So are Danica's and a third person we can't identify."

"So maybe he killed her."

"Cut the shit, Tommy. The unknown prints are on the bottom of your prints and Danica's. That means he or she was the first person to touch the money. Probably giving it to Danica as a form of payment. So let me tell you what happened here. Danica wanted out and you couldn't risk loosing your golden calf. She was all doped up from meds, you guys had a fight and when she wouldn't give you your cut, you went to the freezer to take it. She had just enough fight in her to try and stop you. Took the fight back into the living room and when she got really nasty with you, you killed her. Am I right? Is that what happened?"

"You're way off." Strickland said, his legs shaking frantically, wringing his hands together over and over again..

"So tell us what the real deal is." Danny suggested. "'Cause from our end of things, you're goin' back to Rikers. Only this time you won't be getting out."

"I ain't going back to prison." Strickland declared.

"Yes. You are." Flack said. "We just don't know how long for. Tell us what happened, Tommy."

"I did not kill her." the druggie said, shaking his head his head and rocking back and forth in his chair.

"What happened?" asked Danny. "Fill in the blanks for us."

"You guys don't understand." Strickland moaned, bringing his hands up to his head and yanking at his hair as continued to rock.

"No. We don't." Flack said. "So why don't you try telling us."

"You don't understand." Strickland repeated, rocking even more forcefully. "You think you do but you don't. I loved her. I really did. I loved her."

"Why'd you kill her, Tommy?" Danny asked calmly.

"I didn't…. I didn't kill her…..I loved her….."

"She died somehow." Flack said. "Why don't you tell us how?"

"What does it matter?" Strickland wailed. "She's dead. It don't matter how."

"It matters to us." Danny said. "And her mother. Give that to her mother. Closure. Least you can do."

"What have I done?" Strickland cried, turning his pained, grief stricken face up at Flack, who was staring down at him, palms on the table top.

"You killed someone, Tommy." Flack told him. "That's what you did. Now you tell me how you did it."

In the blink of an eye, Tommy Strickland went from grief stricken to enraged. Jumping to his feet, chair toppling over behind him, slamming his hands down on the table. Face blood red, entire body trembling, his eyes wild.

"I didn't kill Danica!" he screamed.

"Sit down!" Danny ordered, on his feet as well.

Strickland ignored the CSI. "I loved Danica you sonofabitch!" he yelled at Flack. "I didn't kill her!"

"Start telling me the goddamn truth Tommy!" Flack bellowed back. "DNA and fingerprints don't lie! And I've got both at the crime scene along with evidence that Danica died from hitting her head on her coffee table. A coffee table you then discarded and replaced with something you found in the garbage area of her building. We went back through the security tapes! We have you on camera switching the tables!"

"There's no cameras back there!" Strickland argued. "It's why I….." he stopped himself. Realizing the big dumb cop wasn't so dumb after all.

"I got you dead to rights, Tommy! You killed Danica and switched the tables afterwards not thinking the cops were smart enough to figure it out. That was a good of a confession as any!" Flack bellowed.

"I didn't kill her! It was an accident!"

"An accident? You smashed her head off that table didn't you! Didn't you!"

"No!"

"You got thirty seconds to tell me the truth Tommy before me and Detective Messer force you to sit down. So do yourself a favor and come clean. You didn't do it, say it was an accident, then you're looking at the difference between a few years and life. And when I say life I mean 'til the end of yours. 'Cause if you did this Tommy, you'll be up there in Rikers and you'll die there a very old, old man. So tell me what happened."

"It was an accident!" he insisted.

"Tell me what happened." Flack pressed. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

"She fell. We were fighting and I pushed her and she fell." Strickland told the big detective, tears streaming down his face.

"What were you fighting about?" Danny asked, calmly coming around the table, parking himself behind Strickland in case it went as violent and nasty as Danny was fearing it might. And expecting it to be. Couldn't trust the stone cold sober ones let alone the junkies.

"She wanted out. I couldn't afford to loose the cash."

"So you guys fought about, she asked you to leave and it got violent?" Flack asked.

Strickland saw Danny moved closer to him out of this corner of his eye. "What the hell is he doing?" he asked Flack.

"How'd it get violent, Tommy?" Flack ignored the question.

"Don't come any closer." Strickland warned Danny.

Danny held up his hands in self defence. "Just don't want you doing anything stupid, Tommy."

"What happened that got you to push her?" Flack asked.

"I grabbed her money like you said. I know she kept it in the freezer. I owe some guys some cash and I just wanted to borrow it from her 'til I got cash of own to pay her back."

"And she fought you off and got nasty back and you shoved her." Danny concluded. "She fell, hit her head."

Strickland nodded.

"Why didn't you call 911?" Flack asked.

"Didn't think you guys would believe my story. But I am telling you the truth. You gotta believe me."

"You left her there to die and then tried to cover it up." Flack said. "I don't have to believe a damn thing."

Strickland reached out and attempted to grab Flack by the front of the shirt, only to have Danny put his arm across his throat to restrain him. It threw Strickland into a rage. "You have to believe me!" he screamed at Flack, then brought an elbow into Danny's stomach. Hard enough to send Danny to his knees, winded, and giving the druggie enough time to make a break for the door.

Flack yanked the man away from the door by the back of his collar and shoved him in the direction of the interrogation table. Tommy Strickland was tall and scrawny but the drugs had given him the strength of ten men. Ten much bigger men.

"You have to believe me!" Strickland screamed, attempting to turn around and finding himself tossed down onto the floor, flat on his stomach.

"You okay?" Flack asked Danny, who had recuperated enough to come and land a hand.

"Yeah…..I'm okay……calm down, Tommy….don't make this harder than it has to be."

"I can't go back to jail! I can't!" Strickland bellowed. "I can't!"

"Calm down!" Flack ordered, pressing his knee into the small of the man's back and holding his head down by a hand twisted in Strickland's hair. He had a good sixty pounds up on the man, but was having a hell of a time restraining him.

"You okay, Flack?" Danny asked. "Need a uni in here?"

"I'm fine. I said calm down, Tommy!" he yelled and forced his knee harder into the man's back. "Hand me your cuffs, Danny."

Danny reached around, yanked his handcuffs off of his belt and held them out to Flack.

Flack let go of Strickland's hair to reach for the handcuffs, holding his balance by placing the palm of his other hand on the floor.

"Fucking pig!" Strickland screamed, turned his head to the side and sank his teeth into Flack's forearm.

"You son-of-a-fucking-bitch!" Flack roared, feeling the man's teeth did deep into his skin. His first reaction was to yank his arm away, but the grip the man had on his forearm was tight enough that a sudden movement would only make the injury worse. Instead he did the next best thing, grabbed the man by the hair with his other hand and smashed the side of his head into the concrete floor.

The impact split Strickland's head wide open and caused him to release the agonizing grip on Flack's arm. It didn't render the man unconscious. In fact, it only enraged him even more and he continued screaming obscenities and tossing insults at Flack, who, ignoring the blood trailing down his arm and the pain shooting through him, was still attempting to make the arrest.

The door burst open behind them and Speed and three uniform officers rushed in to help.

"You stupid bastard!" Danny yelled, leaning over the junkie and roughly yanking one of the man's arms behind his back, then the other.

Finally, with the entire weight of Flack's body resting on Strickland's back, Danny was able to secure both of the struggling man's wrists with the handcuffs.

"That's assaulting a police officer!" Danny roared, as he and Flack got to their feet, both breathless and sweating profusely. Leaving Strickland to the mercy of Speed and the uniforms. It was taking all three to escort the livid man from the room. Danny turned to his friend. "You okay, Flack?" he asked.

"I'm fine." he said. But his face told an entirely different story. He was caught somewhere between immense rage and profound worry. With a little bit of pain thrown in the mix. Left hand clamped firmly down on the inside of his right forearm, blood seeping through his fingers.

"How bad he get you?" Danny asked, knowing before he got the words out how stupid it must have sounded. "Let me take a look."

"I said I'm fine, Messer."

"And I said let me see." Danny grabbed Flack by the arm and forced him to remove his hand. The bite was deep and massive and damn nasty. Blood dripping onto the floor below.

"Get in the bathroom and clean it." Danny ordered, peeling off his long sleeve button down shirt, leaving him in just his t-shirt. He tied the shirt around Flack's arm. "Hold it under the water and dump as much of that anti-bacterial soap on it as you can. Gonna hurt like a bitch, though."

"I'm okay, Danny." Flack insisted.

"You're not okay. You're shaking like a leaf and as white as a ghost. Human mouth is a haven for all sorts of nasty ass shit. Go in the bathroom and clean it and I'll be in in a minute. Gotta call Mac, tell him what happened. Maybe he can get Hawkes to come down here and look at that."

"I said….."

"I ain't playin', Flack. Get your ass in that bathroom."

Flack just nodded, realizing it was the best thing to do. He turned and headed for the exit, brushing past a startled Carmen standing in the doorway.

"You okay?" she asked in concern.

He didn't answer. He just stepped past her and kept going.

Carmen looked at Danny. Their eyes met. Not words had to be spoken. She just nodded and followed Flack.

* * *

Flack pushed his way into the staff washroom with enough force to send the door flying open and slamming into the wall, knocking several of the small cream colored tiles to the floor with a clatter. He ignored it, rushing to the sinks along the far wall, feeling the startled, concerned eyes of Rick Santucci fixed on him. Poor guy had just finished his business at the urinal and now he was being subjected to a furious Don Flack.

"What the hell happened?" Santucci asked.

Flack tuned his buddy out. He tore Danny Messer's shirt off of his arm and with his good hand, turned the water on. The hot water. Which could get damn near boiling on some days. And this was one of those days. He had to bite down hard on his lip to hold back the yelp of pain that struggled to break free the minute that water hit the wound.

Santucci stepped beside Flack. "Jesus….." he breathed when he saw the bite mark. "You all right, Flack?"

"No." he snapped. "I'm not. Looks like fucking Cujo just took a chunk out of me. And feels like it too."

"Anything I can do?"

"Yeah. I need you to dump as much of that soap there on it as possible. Whatever is in that bottle, just pour it on."

Flack lifted his arm from the water and Santucci tore open the plastic covering on the container holding the soap on the wall, grabbed the bottle and did as Flack asked.

"Motherfucker!" Flack bellowed, not expecting it to hurt as much as it did. His legs were shaking. He felt sick to his stomach. Sweat poured down his forehead and his neck, trickled down his back. The pain was surprisingly intense for a guy that had once had his stomach blown to shreds. He closed his eyes and fought to compose himself. He blindly scrubbed the soap into the wound and then put his arm back under the hot water.

He felt Santucci's hand on his shoulder. Comfortingly. Supportively. He appreciated it even if he didn't say it. A million thoughts were stampeding through his head. His first concern was that Tommy Strickland was carrying some sort of fucked up disease. The guy had been bleeding from that split lip. There was no way some of his blood didn't get into that wound. His second concern was that he could catch whatever crazy thing that damn junkie had and in the end he could pass it on to Sam and the baby. He wasn't worried about himself. His first thought was protecting his wife and kid.

Nothing else mattered.

The door swung open and Carmen hurried in, carrying a first aid kit. Not caring if there had have been any half naked men in the room. Her only concern was Flack.

"We put some of that anti-bacterial soap on it." Santucci told her. "Won't stop bleeding though."

Carmen sat the first aid kit on the sink ledge to Flack's left and snapped it open. Gloving up and grabbing a bottle of rubbing alcohol that was inside.

"Let me see." she said to Flack.

"I'm fine." he told her through gritted teeth. "Just leave me alone."

"Needs to be cleaned. Let me see it."

"Carmen, please…….just leave me alone."

"Goddammit, Flack!" she snapped. "Let me see!"

He turned off the water, yanked a handful of paper towels from the dispenser in front of him and dried his arm off before turning to Carmen. He held his arm out to her.

Her eyes widened at the horrific wound on the inside of his forearm. "This is going to hurt like a bastard Flack." she warned, twisting off the lid of the alcohol.

"Don't do it, Carmen. Don't do it." he said, like a child frightened of his mother administering what he knew was going to sting like hell.

"It's for the best, Flack. Trust me. Take a deep breath…."

"Fuck you, Devine. You are not…."

"Santucci, hold his arm still." Carmen ordered.

The frightened looking uniform, who'd she only just met that morning at the crime scence, swallowed noisily and did as she said.

"Take a deep breath, Flack." Carmen said once more. "And just know that this is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you."

"Sure it is." Flack said sarcastically. "I bet you're just doin' this for shits and giggles aren't you? You probably…."

Carmen unceremoniously dumped the entire bottle of alcohol on Flack's arm.

"You fucking bitch!" Flack screamed and felt his knees buckle. He thought he might faint.

"Shhh…..calm down…." she said. "I know it hurts, Don. Just try to take breaths and take it easy. It'll stop burning in a second."

"Fuck…fuck…fuck….fuck…." was all Flack could manage to say. Tears of agony stinging his eyes.

The door opened again, this time Mac and Danny came hurrying in.

"What the hell happened?" Mac asked. "Flack? You okay?"

He shook his head. "The dirty bastard bit me, Mac. Can you believe that? He actually bit me."

Mac snatched the gauze and surgical tape from the first aid kit and motioned for Carmen to step back and let him take over. "Take it easy, Don." he said calmly, taking the younger man's arm in one hand and wrapping the gauze around it with the other. "Pain will go away in a second. Take it easy."

"Becoming old hat for you, huh Mac?" Flack said, grimacing. "First you stick your hands in my stomach, now this?"

"You're going to be okay." Mac told him.

"I'll kill the sonofabitch, Mac. I've got a wife and a kid on the way. What if he has something? HIV? And I pass that on to my wife and my kid?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Flack. No sense worrying about that right now. I'll have Adam come down and take some blood from the perp and run the tests upstairs. And HIV is not spread through saliva."

"He was bleeding." Flack said. "Some of his blood got mixed in with mine. Had to have gotten in the wound."

Mac secured the gauze with some surgical tape. "You're gonna go to the hospital and have that properly cleaned and have some blood drawn. Danny will take you. Okay?"

Flack nodded.

"Come on." Danny said, slinging his arm around his friend's shoulder and leading him from the room.

Mac and Carmen both sighed and looked at each other.

"I'll need an incident report on what you saw." Mac said.

Carmen nodded and snapped her gloves off and tossed them in the trash.

"First, I want you to tell Samantha before word trickles upstairs. I'd rather her hear it from one of us. She wants to go to the hospital, you take her."

"Things always have a way of screwing up, don't they Mac?"

He nodded. "Beyond belief." he said.

* * *

Danny and Flack were halfway to the front door of the precinct when Gerrard came storming towards them from his office. Flack's thoughts were a million miles away. Danny knew his best friend was running every possible negative scenario through his mind. His main concern being the chance of infecting his wife and unborn child with whatever, if any, nasty thing that was coursing through the junkie's body.

Flack didn't see his boss rapidly approaching. Danny did. And steeled himself against the tirade he was sure Gerrard had in store for his detective. Gerrard didn't give a rat's ass about any of his employees and made no bones about it. But in light of the circumstances of the last half hour, Danny felt his last nerve getting ready to snap. And he knew, that if Gerrard said one wrong thing, that old man was getting knocked on his ass.

"What the hell happened in there Flack?" Gerrard asked demandingly, stepping in his detective's path.

"Perp went nuts." Danny answered. "Nearly tore Flack's arm off with his teeth."

"It's not that bad." Flack said through gritted teeth, his arm across his chest, holding it there with his other hand.

"Bullshit." Danny snapped and attempted to slip past the Inspector, only to have the older man move with them and block the way.

"Where are you two going?" Gerrard asked. "Incident reports need to be filled out."

"Fuck you." Flack said and pushed his way past his boss.

"Excuse me?" Gerrard fumed, hands on his hips. "Who the hell you think you're talking to, Flack?"

"Look, just get out of the way." Danny told Gerrard. "I gotta take him to the hospital."

"For a bite?" the older man asked incredulously.

"Guy looks like a fucking wild animal took a chunk out of his arm." Danny snarled. "Needs to have it cleaned, get some blood work taken. Who knows what that dirty bastard might be crawling with. Now do me a favor and take a hike."

"You got a smart mouth, Messer!" Gerrard called after him as the two younger man hurried for the front entrance of the precinct. "Someday, someone will take care of that for you and knock you into the middle of next week!"

"I'll be waiting!" Danny yelled back and he and Flack disappeared out onto the street.

* * *

"What do you mean there's been an incident?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow, sitting in Mac's office with Carmen and Speed.

"Something happened in interrogation." Carmen replied, nervously bouncing her leg up and down.

"What kind of something?" Sam inquired, looking back and forth between her two friends. "What's going on?"

"Flack got into a little altercation with his suspect." Speed told her, calm and composed.

Sam narrowed her eyes. "A little altercation? What's that suppose to mean? Are one of you going to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Danny had to take Flack to the hospital." Carmen said.

Sam's eyes widened and panic washed over her face. She immediately feared the worst. "Please tell me he's okay. That this guy didn't get his gun or something. That he's not dead or close to it. Please tell me that it wasn't something like that. Something horrific."

"Nothing like that." Speed assured her, in a gentle tone that surprised even Carmen. "It's nothing serious. He's going to be fine. Mac just wanted him to go to the ER to get looked at. Precautionary. And 'cause it's a work place injury and the proper forms need to be filled out."

Relief washed over her face. "So what did happen?" she asked. "He get into a fight with the guy or something?"

"The guy got a little violent with Danny and made for the door and Flack stopped him." Speed explained.

"Is Danny okay?" Sam asked.

"He's fine." Carmen assured her.

"Flack stopped the guy from making a run for it and managed to get the guy onto the ground." Speed continued. "Only when he was trying to make the arrest, the perp decided to get a little nasty with him."

"And?" Sam pressed.

"And the guy bit him." Speed finished.

"How bad?" asked Sam.

"Bad enough. It's deep and nasty and bled pretty good." replied Carmen. "I cleaned it for him and Mac wrapped it up and told Danny to take him to the ER. They're on their way to St. Vinnie's as we speak. Probably already there even."

"But he's going to be okay?" Sam needed some reassurance.

"He's fine." Speed told her. "They'll clean the wound and dress it and no doubt take some blood to make sure the perp didn't pass something along and start him on some heavy duty antibiotics. Main worry is infection."

"If you want to go and see he's fine for yourself, I can take you." Carmen offered.

Sam nodded. "I want to go." she said, getting to her feet.

"I don't blame you." Carmen told her, standing as well and draping a comforting arm across her friend's slender shoulders. "I'd feel the same way if something happened to Tim."

"Yeah right." Speed teased. "You'd leave me there hours and make me eat crappy hospital food. If it makes you feel better about the whole thing, Sam, I've been bitten before and everything turned out okay. And it'll turn out okay for Flack, too."

"I hope so." she said sceptically as Carmen led her from the room.

Speed sighed and stood up.

He sure as hell hoped so too. For all three parties involved.

* * *

St. Vincent's Catholic Medical Centre was the closest to the crime lab. It was located between the corners of Seventh and Greenwich Avenues, on the border of Greenwich and Chelsea. A major teaching hospital, it consisted of two main treatment buildings and several outpatient facilities and was the primary admitting hospital for those injured on September 11th at the World Trade Centre. Accidents in the lab were few and far between. Most injuries occurred out in the field and saw you being shipped to whatever place was closest. Ironically enough, despite it's close proximity to the lab, St. Vinnie's as New Yorkers called it, was the least used hospital by the NYPD.

The emergency department was relatively silent and empty at a quarter after two in the afternoon. Two patients waiting in chairs and another being assessed by the triage nurse. No sign of either Flack or Danny. So either they decided to head for another hospital or they were already waiting to be seen by a doctor.

Carmen and Sam headed for the reception desk. The nurse -slightly overweight with shoulder length blond hair and stylish glasses and wearing a bright pink scrub set- glanced up from the computer screen in front of her at the two young women in front of her.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"We're looking for Detective Don Flack." Carmen replied. "He would have been brought in about half an hour, forty five minutes ago."

"The name doesn't sound familiar." the nurse said and went back to her typing.

"He must be back there somewhere." Carmen argued. "He was just brought in. Bite mark to the right forearm? Police officer? Ring a bell?"

"I'm sorry. I don't recognize the name."

"Well if you don't recognize it, how about taking your mind off of playing solitaire on your PC and concentrate on looking his name up and finding out where he is."

The nurse sighed and looked down at a clipboard in front of her, eyes scanning the names highlighted on the list. "He's back in the treatment area waiting to be seen by a physician."

"Was that so hard?" Carmen asked, grabbing Sam by the hand and pulling her towards the door that would lead into the back treatment areas.

"Only one person is allowed back there." the nurse informed them, stopping them from going any further.

"Give me a break." Carmen snorted.

"One person." the nurse insisted. "And his one person is back there with him. So you two young ladies take a seat and when the doctor is finished, your colleague will be released and you can see him then."

"He's not just a colleague." Carmen snapped. "He's a close friend and he happens to her husband. And she's four months pregnant and borderline pre-eclampsia and you're crap is just causing her stress that she does not need. So either let us in so she can see him or have her miscarriage on your conscience. What'll it be?"

The nurse saw the cold hard truth in Carmen's eyes and pressed a button on the wall next to her that opened the automatic door. "Exam room 12." she told them.

"Thanks." Carmen said snottily as she and Sam headed through.

"What a bitch." Sam declared.

"Some people are paid to be bitches I guess." Carmen said with a sigh. "Which way is exam room 12?" she wondered aloud.

"Looking for the two cops?" a passing orderly asked. He jerked his finger over his shoulder. "Second from the end, left hand side."

"Thank you." Carmen said. "At least someone is cooperative."

"Don't take it personally." he chuckled. "Dragon lady is always like that."

Both Carmen and Sam laughed and headed down the hallway. Danny was in the chair by the door, legs stretched out, head resting back against the wall, looking over to his left where Flack was sitting next to him, his legs shaking frantically. A mix of intense anger and pain. They couldn't see her, but Sam and Carmen could hear Stella talking. And the sound of a camera clicking as she took pictures.

"Hey guys." Carmen greeted from the doorway.

"What are you two doing here?" Danny asked.

"Mac told me to bring Sam over after Speed and I talked to her about what happened." Carmen replied.

The look on Flack's face let Carmen know that was one of the stupidest things she ever could have done as far as he was concerned. The last thing he'd wanted was Sam worrying herself over what had gone down and causing herself even more stress.

"I was sent over to take the pictures." Stella explained, packing her camera away in her kit and re-covering Flack's arm. "So we can file assault on an officer charges."

Danny stood up and motioned for Sam to take his seat. Laying a gentlemanly hand on her back, helping her slip down into the chair.

"Nurse came and took his vitals and put a clean bandage on it." Danny said. "Took a few vials of blood. Stella's taking 'em back to the lab to do the testing there. Still waiting on the doctor though to come and clean it. Could be a while. You know what it's like waiting for anything in any ER."

"Like leaving the porch light on for Jimmy Hoffa." Sam declared.

Everyone laughed. Even Flack despite the throbbing pain coursing through his arm.

"Ya got a way with words, Brooklyn." Danny said, tousling her hair. "I'm gonna go and grab a coffee. Anyone want anything?"

"I have to head back." Stella said. "Get these photos developed. I'll walk with you."

"So will I." Carmen decided. "Give these two a chance to talk without an audience."

"You guys want anything?" Danny asked Sam and Flack.

They both shook their heads.

"Extra large black, two sugars and a decaf tea, lots of milk." Danny said, not taking their answers seriously and then slipping out of the exam room flanked by Stella and Carmen.

* * *

Sam looked at Flack. He was bouncing his legs up and down nervously. His eyes were riveted on the ceiling and his head was resting back against the wall behind them. She leaned sideways in her chair and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I'm just glad you're okay." she said. "That it wasn't something a lot worse."

"Tell that to my arm." he scoffed dryly.

Sam frowned.

"I'm sorry." Flack said with a sigh, noticing the somewhat hurt expression on her face. "I didn't mean to sound like such a prick. It's just the pain. I didn't think it would hurt this much."

"They didn't give you anything?"

"Some antibiotics and a couple Tylenol Three. Nothing that makes a dent."

"Maybe they'll give you something stronger if you ask. Write you another 'script for Percocet. You're other bottle only has three pills left if in it."

He shot her a warning look out of the corner of his eye. "Don't start, Samantha. Please. Okay? Don't start."

"I'm not starting anything." she argued defensively. "Look, I know you're pissed that I'm here….."

"I am not pissed off." he fought back. "I just didn't want you running over here all worried and stressed out. You don't need that. Neither does the baby."

"Don, you're practically my husband. I'm going to worry and get stressed over you. Just like you do with me. Only I'm not so damn over bearing about it."

"I don't mean to be. You know that. This is all new for me, Samantha. Getting married, having a kid."

"I know. But a little breathing room, Don. I need a little breathing room."

"Okay. Fine. I'll try not and give a shit about either of you."

"Please don't turn this into a fight." she begged. "You're twisting everything I say. I only meant that I need you to be my husband. Not an overprotective father. I already have one of those, remember?"

Flack managed a smile. "How can I forget that? He still wants to castrate me me with a spoon."

"A spoon is not his first tool of choice, trust me." Sam laughed lightly and kissed his cheek again. She held his good had and rested her head against his shoulder. "What did the nurse say?" she asked.

"Just that the doctor will clean it, bandage it and send me home with instructions on how to take care of it. Prescriptions for antibiotics and a note to keep me off of work for four days. In case I get side effects from all the drugs."

"And the blood work? What did she say about that?"

"They'll do it over at our lab so we should get results in forty-eight to seventy-two hours. Hepatitis, HIV. All the good stuff. And even if I pop negative on the HIV test there's still that three month window. I'll just have to have the test done all over again in ninety days."

"Do you know if this perp is sick or anything?"

"Stella said Mac has a call into the guy's family doctor to see if he's got anything I need to worry about. Hopefully he's negative."

"It's still beter to be safe than sorry." Sam reasoned. "Even if he tested negative recently, it could be just because nothing showed in his system yet."

"I don't need you to be a scientist, Samantha." Flack said. "I need you to be here as my wife."

She smiled and hugged his arm to her. "You're right. Force of habit. We're going to need to be really careful you know." she said.

"About?"

"Intimacy wise."

"You kidding? For the next three months, me and you are sleeping in different rooms." Flack declaread. Only half joking.

"They're called condoms, Don. You'll have to suck it up and be a man and use one."

"Condoms arean't a hundred percent safe. Can't take the risk of anything happening to you or the baby."

"You know what I think?" Sam asked, stroking his injured arm softly. "I think we need to just wait and see what the doctor says and try not get too ahead of ourselves."

"Sounds good." Flack said, nodding in agreement.

"You know I'm here for you, right Don?" she asked, looking at him with those golden eyes so loving and warm. And so trusting.

"I know." he said and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"No matter what." she promised. "I'll always be here."

He smiled and closed his eyes. Holding her to that promise.

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. I really appreciate the support and it is what keeps me going. I love each and every one of you. Even those who are lurking. Although I do wish you'd send some love my way.**

**PLUGS**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over on the Miami side of things)**

**Mauveine: Someday**

**Laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**EvaFlack001: For Kate's Sake**

**Forest Angel: Coming Home**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**


	67. Hide and Seek

**Hide and Seek**

"Why are we keeping secrets  
Why don't we both come clean and begin  
I don't have the heart to hurt again  
Why are we keeping secrets  
Why don't we both come closer again  
We're keeping secrets  
I don't like playing detective  
Still I keep finding clues  
We got to stop pretending  
And pay the dues  
Now I can see it coming  
The writing's on the wall  
We've got to stop this running  
Before we fall."  
-Keeping Secrets, Christine McVie

**Big thanks to 'my Montana' for another great song and to Aphina for her help when things got a little screwed up. **

**The character Emma Maxwell mentioned later in this chapter is a creation of Bluehaven4220. In her story Maxwell, the character's first name was originally Erica, but it was changed because of the Erica that already exists in this story. Emma Maxwell, or Max as she'll be known, is going to be a permanent fixture.**

* * *

They arrived home shortly after seven in the evening. After having the doctor exam the wound to make sure there was no tissue loss or nerve damage (he had to numb the area just so Flack would even let him touch it, never mind poke and prod at it), he cleaned it properly, applied some disinfectant and then re-dressed it. Then they sat for another forty five minutes listening to the man lay out all the worst case scenarios. Everything from HIV (a low risk, but still possible because the perp had been bleeding at the time) and Hepatitis A to the countless infections that could arise from a human bite. Countless antibiotics would keep infection at bay. Hopefully. But the scariest to them was the possibility of a disease. Neither HIV or Hepatitis was a welcome thing. Both were damn frightening and could be spread from baby to mother during childbirth and that was a risk neither of them were willing to take.

"Practice the safest sex as possible." the doctor had told them, as he scribbled out numerous prescriptions and filled out the required paperwork for Flack to be off for the better part of a week and still get paid for it. "Abstinence is the safest thing I can think of until your blood work comes back. "

Flack couldn't agree more. Sam however, had looked at the doctor as if he'd gone absolutely insane. Abstinence was not a word in their vocabularies. And both of them knew that staying away from each other would be damn near impossible. Maybe they could survive a few days, but anything past that would be sheer torture.

Which was why when they went to have the half dozen different prescriptions prepared, Flack nearly bought out the condom section. It felt odd. Buying condoms to have sex with your wife. Your pregnant wife at that. All because some junkie had to play Jaws with his arm. He made a promise to himself that if any blood work came back with the slightest hint of a problem, he was going to visit Tommy Strickland in jail and lay the beating of a life time on the guy. Hand him his ass twice over. Until all the anger and frustration was gone. And that would take a lot.

Flack took a shower and put on a t-shirt and baggy jeans. He felt tired and almost light headed. The doctor had said it was one of the possible side effects of taking the antibiotics and the pain killers at the same time. He felt like he could just lie down and sleep for twenty four hours. And then some. So he avoided the urge to crash on the bed of even the couch and instead headed into the kitchen, where Sam was at the stove in one of his shirts and a pair of yoga pants that clung to her curves and her slightly rounded belly.

Why did she always have to be so damn sexy? Flack thought, trying to ignore the way she looked or the way she smelled. She had a profound effect on him since the day they first met, and at this point in time, that was dangerous. And the fact that she only seemed to be getting even sexier the farther along the pregnancy progressed and that the thought of that being his baby in there made him fill with pride, only added to the difficulty he knew he was going to have staying away from her.

"Danny called." Sam said, turning from the stove and picking up a glass of milk on the counter. She took a long sip from it. "Erica and him are going to stop by to check on you when he gets off. I guess she's meeting him there and they're worried about you."

"They have to come over tonight? " Flack asked. "Why? I'll still be alive tomorrow."

"They're worried about you." Sam repeated. "So I'm making enough pasta and salad to feed all of us."

"I'm not hungry." Flack told her.

"You must be hungry." Sam said, opening one of the cupboards and grabbing a package of rotini noodles and taking them over to the stove, where she dumped the whole package into the pot of boiling water.

"I'm not." he said.

"You have to be dying to not be hungry." Sam teased.

"Pills make me feel like shit." he complained and held out a fresh gauze pad and a package of surgical tape. "Can't get another bandage on myself." he told her. "And really, I'm not hungry."

"You can't go without food, Don. Half those pills need to be taken on a full stomach or you'll feel even worse." she took the medical supplies from him and gestured for him to pull up his sleeve. "If you're going to take a shower, next time put some plastic over the bandage so it stays dry and you don't have to keep changing it. 'Cause I won't be around all day the next few days you're off to do this for you."

"Come home on your breaks and do it then." he suggested.

"Just listen to the doctor's instructions, okay? Humor me. Or you will end up with worse problems."

"How much worse could it get? A junkie nearly rips apart my arm with his teeth, God knows what the hell he could have and now I actually have to use condoms when I make love to my pregnant wife."

"I can think of worse fates." Sam said and ripped pieces of the tape off with her teeth and secured the bandage over the painful, nasty looking wound on the inside of his forearm. Her fingers were soft and gentle in his skin. The simple touches drove him crazy.

"Just weird is all. It's not like we're strangers having random sex or we have to worry about you getting knocked up."

"It's just precautionary." Sam reminded him. "It's not a permanent thing. In a few days we'll know what your tests say and by then we'll hopefully have heard from this guy's doctor."

"Three month window, though, Sam. For the HIV thing."

"Three months of using condoms is not going to kill you." she told him, finishing the patch job on his arm and moving away to wash and dry her hands and return to preparing dinner.

"It might." he said.

"You poor bastard." Sam teased, stirring the pasta. "Seriously, Don. Don't be such a baby. You want to get laid, you use them. Plain and simple."

"Well lucky for both of us, I'm not in the mood." Flack told her and moved to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and grabbed one of the pill bottles off of the top of the microwave.

"You're going to have to eat something with those." Sam informed him.

"I said I'm not hungry." he said and popped two pills with a gulp of water.

"Why are you being so difficult?" she asked.

"I'm not being difficult. I'm just not hungry." Flack replied. "Seriously. The pills are making me feel sick to my stomach."

"Well then go and sit on the couch and watch t.v. and rest." Sam suggested.

"I don't want to."

"Then go and lie down for a while until Danny and Erica get here." she tried.

"I don't want to go and lie down." he argued.

"Jesus Christ, Don!" she snapped. "There must be something you want to do! Go and do something. Anything. Instead of standing here driving me insane for the next hour. You're suppose to be resting so go and rest. Watch tv. Read. Something. There must be something that interests you."

"There is. And involves me and you desecrating the kitchen counter or the table. Or maybe even both. But seeing as I'm practically on quarantine for four days, I best be keeping those thoughts to myself."

"You can last four days without sex." Sam informed him.

"No. I can't." he said and kissed her cheek and headed out of the kitchen and into the living room. "I can't go four hours sometimes. How you expect me to go four days?"

"Lots of cold showers!" she called.

* * *

Flack snorted and sat down on the couch. "Yeah….right." he said with a sigh and reached for the remote control. It was sitting on top of a pile of discarded magazines and old paper work that needed to go the garbage days ago. The item on the top caught his eye. A manila file folder with MISS S. ROSS typed across the top. Below was written: MATTERS INVOLVING THE ESTATE OF ZACAHARY STEPHEN TURNER.

What the fuck? Flack thought. He'd thought that name was far behind them and now here it was, cropping up out of nowhere. After the shitty day he'd had and the crappy way he was feeling at the moment, the last thing he wanted to deal with was anything to do with the piece of shit who'd caused Sam so much grief.

He flipped open the folder and read the first few lines of the professionally prepared letter inside. From a lawyer in Phoenix informing Samantha that she had been named sole beneficiary of Zack's estate, which included a house, car, personal effects and a large sum of money.

There were two questions that popped up into Flack's mind. How the hell did that file get in the house without him seeing it before and why the hell didn't she say anything about it?

"Sam?" he called to her.

"Yeah?"

"What is this?"

"What's what?"

Flack got up and went into the kitchen, folder in hand. "This." he said, leaning against the counter behind her and waving the file.

She glanced over her shoulder. Shit! She thought. Not how I wanted him to find out. She'd forgotten that she'd sat the folder down when they first got home and she'd gotten distracted by the phone call from Erica and planning dinner and organizing all of Flack's medication so he didn't accidentally OD himself.

"That's just something Amelia brought me today." she answered casually and went back to stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce in front of her.

"Whose Amelia?" he asked.

Talk about making things even worse., Sam thought. She really had to start remembering what she had, and hadn't, told him about life in Arizona. It was startling in a way, to think that this man was going to be her husband in less than three months and there was a lot he didn't know yet. And even more startling was she didn't know if she'd ever tell him everything. A woman's heart was a deep ocean of secrets and some things were better left kept inside.

"She's Zack's sister." Sam replied, moving to the fridge and grabbing all the ingredients for the salad.

"You mean there's more than one offspring from that mutated family?" Flack asked dryly.

"Amelia is the normal one." Sam said. "You should meet her other brother."

"There's a third kid?"

"There's five all together. But the youngest brother? I have no idea what happened with him. He looks more like an armadillo than a human being. A genetic experiment gone wrong I guess. It's a shame. 'Cause their mother is drop dead gorgeous."

Flack smirked. "Okay smart ass."

"Amelia is a very nice girl." Sam said in defensive of her old friend. "That whole family is, actually. I was very close to them and they were really good to me. I don't know what happened to Zack."

"Dropped on his head as a baby?" Flack suggested.

"He wasn't always a bad guy." Sam said.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're actually defending him? Tell me you just didn't defend that piece of shit."

"I was just defending his family. And saying that he wasn't always crazy. I just drove him that way."

"That's what he told you, right? 'Cause you can't honestly think that's true."

"Apparently I have that effect on people. I drive them nuts."

"You know what's driving me nuts? You blaming yourself all the time for him being a prick. None of that was your fault and I know you got shit self esteem because of it, but you need to say fuck him and deal with it all ready. You gonna let him always put a shadow on our lives?"

"Of course not. I was just saying…."

"And what really drives me nuts is that after everything, all the crap we've been through, you still find it necessary to hide shit from me." his voice was calm and composed despite the fact he wanted to shake some goddamn sense into her.

"I wasn't hiding anything from you." Sam defended herself. "I just didn't have the chance to tell you about it yet."

"You have time now? Or is this a bad time, too?"

"We were at the hospital getting you looked after. Excuse me if being worried about you pushed other shit to the back of my mind. I was going to talk to you about it when things were nice and calm and we could sit down and have a decent conversation."

"So then tell me now. Tell me what this is all about. Why anything to do with Zack is in my house?"

"Amelia came to New York City to see me. We used to be best friends until Zack's stupidity screwed it all up. She was concerned about what had happened down here and wanted to make sure that I was okay. And for us to try and reconnect. We met today for lunch."

Flack sighed and shook his head. "You like hiding stuff from me, don't you."

"I was not hiding anything from you!" Sam insisted. "I just didn't get the chance to tell you. First you hunt me down at that crime scene and freak out on me and then you get hurt on the job and end up at the hospital. Amelia and Zack were the last two people on my mind. Regardless of you being injured or not, I was going to tell you when you got home."

"But you didn't."

"Don, I forgot about it. I put it down and forgot about it. It wasn't intentional. I've had other stuff on my mind."

"What is this about Samantha?" he held the folder up.

"It's about Zack's will."

"What about it?" he wanted to hear it straight from her mouth, to see if she was honest or not. And so that it didn't appear as if he'd been spying on her by reading it.

"He never changed his will after we broke up."

"Which proves he was a fucking idiot." Flack declared. "First thing you do when you split with someone is change all that shit."

"Okay Mr Insensitivity. I'll remember that when we get divorced and you leave me with nothing."

"Like that would ever happen. You know I'd make sure the kid was taking care of."

Sam frowned. "I was hoping for a comment along the lines of 'we'll never get divorced'." she said, motioning for him to move over to give her some room to work.

"We're both Catholic, remember? Catholics don't believe in divorce."

"Like we've been living according to our religion? Please. We are both going to hell and you know it. You more so than me."

"What? You're just as sin ridden as me. Why am I worse?"

"The whole Devon thing alone is enough to send you to the fiery pits of damnation." Sam said.

"Okay. Not one of my finer moments." Flack agreed.

"You think?" Sam laughed and opened the cupboard in front of her and attempted to reach up for a bowl to prepare the salad in. Even on her tip toes she couldn't quite get to it.

"Grow a few inches would ya." Flack said, seeing her struggle and pulling the bowl down for her.

"Why? It's why you're here. You're nice and tall. It's why keep you around. Get things off the high shelves and carry heavy stuff."

"I could say why I keep you around but you'd probably slap me out."

"Please. I'm used to you being a total and utter pig." she said, tearing apart and lettuce and breaking it into edible pieces and dropping it into the bowl.

"So this will thing." Flack said, getting back to the original order of business. "Zack never took your name off and…"

"And I guess I'm the sole beneficiary of his estate."

"How big of an estate? Guy was a state trooper. How much could there be?"

"Zack had money. He was by no means poor. He was very lucky with stocks and investing. And he was given a sizeable inheritance when his grandmother died and he socked it away and earned interest on it."

"So he did have some sort of a brain." Flack said.

"Sure he did. But the psychotic, jealous part of it always seemed to win out. And no amount of money can take all the shit back that he did to me."

"Of course not. But it helps with the healing process a bit. So how much of an estate are we talking about here?"

"What does it matter? I'm not accepting it."

"Humor me. How much?"

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, a rarely used Chevy Malibu and a house worth about two twenty five."

Flack nodded slowly, letting the news sink in.

"But who cares?" Sam asked. "I'm not taking it regardless."

"Why not?"

"I don't want anything from that bastard." she reasoned.

"Two hundred and a half g's is a lot of money, Samantha. That's almost seventy grand more than what we make a year combined."

"What do we do with a car and a house in Arizona?" she asked.

"Sell them. Or sell the house and keep the car. Give it a away. Doesn't matter. But that money and the money you'd make off a house? Money like that doesn't not fall in your lap every day."

"I find it a little weird that you of all people would want anything of Zack's." she commented testily.

"The guy was a motherfucker and I'm not upset the way things ended for him." Flack admitted, opening the folder again and scanning through the information inside . "I personally would have liked to be responsible for putting him in an early grave. But I'm looking at this stuff as a perfect way to fuck him over in the end. Think about it. Think about all he did to you and you being responsible for him getting his dues and then he wasn't smart enough to take you off his will? Revenge at it's finest if you ask me."

"I'm not out to get revenge on a dead person. Him getting killed was revenge enough for me."

"Okay. Then think of it this way. Money like this is a God send for us. Especially right now with the baby. We won't have to use credit to buy stuff and go further into debt. You can pay off your student loans that are still hanging around and you can stay off longer with the baby and live off of the money comfortably. You can buy whatever the hell you want. Invest some. Something we could use for a house one day or for the kid's college education. All this stuff we wouldn't be able to do on just our salaries."

"But it's from Zack." she argued.

"Who cares who it's from." Flack said. "It's a lot of money. And I know it doesn't make up for it, but it's at least some form of compensation for what that nut job put you through."

Sam sighed.

"I'm not telling you what to do. It's your decision. But something like this affects us both. And it affects the baby. Think of all the stuff you can buy for the baby and not worry about maxing out credit cards to do it. And you can stay home longer than six weeks. You know how I feel about that. I don't want you going back that soon. That's not enough time for you to spend with the baby. Especially if you end up doing the breast feeding thing. And now you could stay home longer and not stress about money."

"Just the thought of taking anything from him…."

"Don't think of it that way. Think of it as his family giving you something for all the agony and bullshit he put you through. And think about how much this would help. Even long term if you want to invest. You can even bythat expensive stroller you wanted and not get any grief from me about it."

She smiled. "You really think it's a good idea?"

"I can't believe you thought it was a bad idea. But this is your decision, Samantha. You don't think it's smart, than don't do it. I just wanted you to think about thinks logically and not make a decision out of hatred for the guy. Not just you anymore. Everything affects me and the baby, too."

"If that isn't a classic example of the pot calling the kettle back." Sam laughed. "I'm saying something along those lines to you all the time."

"Well I'm finally starting to listen." he said. "Sam, this is ultimately up to you. I just want you to see it from where I'm sitting. And if I didn't think it was the best thing to do, I'd tell you so. One thing I am is brutally honest."

"Yeah?" she stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him. "Well then tell me something."

"What's that?" he asked, settling his hands on her hips.

"You think my ass and my boobs are starting to get too big?"

"What? Are you crazy? They could never get too big. You know how I feel about your body. Especially your ass." he ran his hands over her hips and onto her rear end to emphasize his point. "Your J-Lo ass."

"So you don't think I'm getting fat?"

"No. And you're pregnant, Sam. You're suppose to get bigger. And personally," he squeezed her ass and yanked her closer to him. "I think you're damn sexy for a pregnant woman."

She smiled up at him. "You just know how to say the right things at the right times." she said.

"I'm even better at doing the right things at the right times." he told her.

"Which is how I ended up pregnant in the first place. You're just way too good at certain things. You make it impossible to say no."

"You're not suppose to say no." he told her and kissed her softly.

A soft kiss that quickly developed into much more when his hands kneaded her ass and held her tightly against him and his tongue found hers. The logical part of his brain was telling him that this was not a smart idea. That waiting the four days until his labs came back before initiating or getting involved in any form of sexual contact with her was the safest route to take. But she was making it damn hard the way her hands were sliding up and down his chest -under his shirt- and she was kissing him back hungrily and intently.

He snapped out of it when he felt her fingers on the button of his jeans and stopped kissing her and moved his hands to her shoulders, pushing her back slightly. "Not a good idea." he said.

She pouted dramatically but stepped away from him, knowing that he was right. The smartest thing to do was not get into a situation like that for a few days. Things wouldn't be so up in the air once they heard something. Anything.

"I'm sorry." he said sincerely, watching her return to making dinner.

"For what?"

Not being able to, you know, do certain things right now. I mean, I can do them, I just don't feel comfortable doing them. Condoms or no condoms. Once the labs come back…"

"Don, you don't have to explain. Okay? I understand. And I'll feel better too once those labs come back."

"Something always has to happen with us." Flack said with a heavy sigh. "More weird shit has happened since I met you than in the entire thirty years of my life."

"Come on. How boring would you're life be without me?" she asked.

"I don't even want to think about that." he replied, suppressing a shiver at her words.

Truth was, he wouldn't have a life without her.

And he didn't want one if she wasn't in it.

* * *

Danny and Erica arrived an hour later. It was nice to spend some time with them. They didn't do it enough unfortunately. Erica was a shift worker and had found herself working doubles covering for other nurses that were taking holidays and then being to exhausted on her days off to do little more than lounge around the apartment and sleep. Danny, like the others in the lab, was working his tail off to help fill the gaping hole left behind first by Lindsay's departure, then by Sam's pregnancy banishing her to the lab. Talk around the crime lab was that Mac was putting the pressure on the brass to let him hire another CSI, citing outrageous overtime pay and the decline in solved cases. So far, they were arguing back that the ship was running smoothly and to just suck it up and deal with it.

It was a welcome relief to be able to sit down and relax and not dwell on what happened that day. Danny was that kind of guy. He asked you if you were okay once or twice and when he saw you were uncomfortable discussing it or just plain didn't want to, he let it go and moved on to something else. As they sat there having dinner, talked steered clear of work and settled on other things. Starting with Danny moving into Erica's apartment at the end of the month. A poshy condo was a far cry from his apartment and his humble beginnings as the son of a mobster growing up in Staten Island. He almost feel he didn't deserve to have something as nice as that.

And someone as amazing as Erica. She loved him regardless of his past and his tough exterior. She accepted his career and was settling nicely into life as a cop's 'wife'. Sam could tell, by the tender way Danny looked at her cousin and the pride in his smile when she talked about her job and her life, that he was deeply and madly in love. And that Erica felt the same. It was in the glances they shared and the tender kisses they stole. He'd moved on and put Lindsay behind him and Erica, after surviving the nasty breakup of her marriage and vowing she'd never again be with anyone, had discovered the love she wanted to give and receive yet had doubted even existed.

They talked about the baby and Sam and Flack's upcoming wedding. Sam was fretting because she hadn't even put a thought to what she was wearing. Although she was grateful they'd decided on something small and low key and immensely private. Neither she or Flack had the time to plan a big wedding. Or the patience to put up with all the crap that would come along with it. Neither of them were extravagant people, and something intimate and subtle was more their style. All that Flack had to worry about was getting a new suit to wear, calling a judge he had on speed dial that owed him a favor and paying for the rings. He was not at all stressed or freaked out at the thought of committing his entire life to another human being. Not the Don Flack Danny had been best friends with for years. This Don Flack was more mature and responsible. Thinking with his head as opposed to his dick. And it was a welcome relief to see him that happy and that in love.

Hard to believe such a drastic change had taken place in only five and a half months. Flack was growing up right before everyones eyes. He was becoming the man they all knew he had the potential to be. And all if had taken was a fiesty, stubborn as hell Brooklyn girl to do it.

When dinner was finished and the women stayed in the kitchen to clean up and spend some girl time together, Danny and Flack retreated to the living room to watch a pre-season game between the Rangers and the Stanley Cup champion Detroit Red Wings and have a couple of beers. Flack knew he shouldn't be drinking with all the meds he was putting in his body, but figured one or two couldn't hurt. As long as Sam didn't come out into the living room and catch him. The wrath of Sam Ross was far worse than any physical pain on earth.

"So whats this I hear about you getting' a new partner?" Danny asked, sipping his bottle of Bud. "I was downstairs talking to Strickland's attorney and Angell told me you were getting someone permament to work with. What's up with that?"

"The department's starting to twosome up all the detectives. Too much bad shit can happen working alone." Flack replied.

"Ain't that the truth. You meet the guy yet? What's he like?"

"It's a she, actually." Flack said, yawning noisily. He was halfway through his second beer and mixed with the meds, he was feeling wiped out.

"No shit. You meet her?"

"I already know her." Flack said, taking a sip of his beer. "So do you."

Danny arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"You remember Max?" Flack asked.

"Emma Maxwell?" Danny's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? Same Emma Maxwell who was a uni at our crime scenes for nearly three years before moving up to detective and working with SVU? The same Emma Maxwell who you….."

"Keep your damn voice down, Messer!" Flack snapped, casting a glance over his shoulder towards the kitchen, where Sam and Erica were giggling noisily and digging into the key lime pie Erica had brought with her.

"Sam doesn't know? About you and Max?"

"Sam doesn't know about me and a lot of people. The only ex she knows about is Devon and she's never asked about any others the same way I don't ask about the guys that came before me."

"Maybe. But you won't be working with any guys she was with." Danny said.

"I wasn't with Max. We were never a couple." Flack reminded him.

"Oh I'm sorry. You guys were fuck buddies."

"Friends with benefits. We had an understanding. She called me when she wanted it and I called her when I wanted it. She didn't expect anything more from me and I never wanted anything more from her. Plain and simple."

"And Sam doesn't know? About any of this? How long have you known she was getting brought in to work with you?"

"I've known nearly a week now." Flack admitted.

"And you haven't told her?" Danny asked in horror. "What is wrong with you? Why haven't you told her?"

"There's never been a good time. Between worrying about moving in a week and all these tests coming up soon for the baby and Sam's health not being the best and now this shit with me getting' bit, there's never been a proper time to say anything."

"Well you better make it soon." Danny advised. "Before she hears it from someone else."

"I will. I will tell her when all of this other crap has died down." Flack downed the remainder of his beer and leaned back against the rear of the couch, head tilted back, eyes closed.

"How you think Sam's gonna react?" Danny asked. "Not just you having a female partner but said female partner being a woman you were having a thing with?"

Flack sighed. "I don't know." he replied.

"Be honest with her Flack. Don't keep anything back. It's better to be honest about stuff like that."

"Are you kidding me?" Flack laughed."Relationship advice from the guy who cheated on Monroe with Reuben Sandoval's mother You weren't exactly on the up and up yourself, Danny."

"Hey, what happened between me and Rikki is an entirely different thing." Danny defended himself. "I'm not with Lindsay anymore and she's long gone and so is Rikki. I've moved on with my life."

"And so have I." Flack said. "I'm getting married in three months. I'm havin' a kid in less than six. So Max and I have no bearing on me and Sam."

"You're future wife and the mother of your unborn child deserves to know from you, that the woman you're going to be working with was in your life not too long ago. Brooklyn deserves the truth, Flack. And it'll be a lot better if she hears it from you instead of through the grapevine."

"True." Flack agreed.

"Unless you want your marriage over before it starts, you better find a way of telling her. And make sure she knows Max isn't a threat to your guys' relationship."

"She's not a threat. She was someone I was sleeping with. That's it. I love Sam. More than life. You know that."

"I do." Danny said with a nod. "I also know that she loves you and that it would crush her to hear this from anyone else."

Flack sighed again, contemplating the predicament he found himself in.

"Don't fuck this up." Danny warned him.

"I'm not planning on fucking anything up." Flack said. "I can't ruin this. There's too much to loose."

"Then take my advice. Tell her the whole truth. It'll be better for you if you do. And less painful for both of you."

Somehow, Flack doubted that.

* * *

"You won't believe who I ran into in Times Square today." Erica said to her cousin, as they sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea and enjoying the key lime pie Erica had brought over.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Sam laughed.

"Someone who knows you and remembers you very well. And who recalls you very, very fondly."

"Has to be from a long time ago, then. I left New York when I was sixteen."

"Let's just say that there's some interesting history involved and this person was pleasantly surprised to hear your back in town and would love to see you again." Erica told her.

"Hmmm. Man or woman?"

"Man. A very handsome, extremely successful man."

Sam frowned over the rim of her mug. "I didn't know any handsome, successful men in my teens. The guys I knew were only interested in hanging out the New Rochelle Mall or driving around looking to pick up girls in between their smoking up and underage drinking."

"Well back when you knew him he wasn't how he is now. Back then he was always skipping class and hanging out with his buddies and raising some hell. And always getting caught by your daddy sneaking out your bedroom window."

"Only one person that can be." Sam said, unimpressed. "And the last thing I want is to get mixed up with Pelham Bay bullshit again. I'm not that same girl anymore, Erica. Far from it. I'm getting married, I'm having a baby. I'm not sixteen years old anymore."

"And neither is Evan. In fact, he's really made something of himself. He's a top exec for a fortune five hundred company. Has a brownstone in Brooklyn that cost him a mint. Wears Armani suits and Bruno Magli shoes and drives a Ferrari."

"Good for him." Sam said, finishing the last of her pie and her tea and pushing her chair away from the table. "I'm glad he made something of himself." she said, standing up and carrying her dirty dishes to the sink. "I thought for sure he'd be in Sing-Sing by now for grand theft auto or drug dealing or weapons running."

"I was surprised to say the least. He's still damn fine looking though. He was back then."

"He was all right." Sam agreed, rinsing her dishes.

"All right? He was bad boy hot back then. Now he's GQ hot."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Sam asked.

Erica got up from the table and joined her cousin at the sink with her own dishes. "Just thought you'd be interested."

"Well, I'm not. That was a long time ago."

"He was happy to hear you were doing so well. And even happier to hear that you're back in the city. He wanted me to talk to you about giving him a call. Maybe meeting up or something."

"Are you kidding?" Sam laughed. "You're insane. Once again, I am getting married. I'm having a baby. I've created a whole new life for myself. Why mess it up wasting my time on someone like Evan?"

"Samantha, it's strictly as friends. Don't read into it."

Sam snorted. "It was never just friends with him." she said, opening the dishwasher and setting the cups and plates and utensils inside.

"I'd love to run into my first boyfriend. The first of a lot of things. Wouldn't you like to see him again? The guy that you…"

"No." Sam slammed the door on the dishwasher closed, causing everything inside to rattle. "I wouldn't like to see him again. That was over fourteen years ago. I have no desire to relive any of that."

"What's the big deal? It's only the guy you lost your virginity too."

"I never slept with Evan. He only told everyone I did to make himself look like the big man in front of his buddies. He was full of shit than and he's probably full of shit now. And if Zack was alive, he'd be able to back me up and confirm he was the first. Evan was just a moron."

"I'm sure other things happened between you guys though." Erica said.

"You're right. They did. And what they are is not your business."

"Why are you so defensive?" Erica asked. "It's just an ex-boyfriend. He'd just like to see you again."

"I have no interest in seeing him again. Not after he slept with you."

Erica blushed furiously. "I thought we got past that." she said.

"We did. I forgave you for being the little ho you were back then. You're obviously not like that now. I mean, I don't have to worry about leaving you alone in the same room with Don do I?"

"Of course not. That's just stupid. I'd never do anything to hurt you. We were kids back then. Young and immature."

"Exactly. And I'm not young or immature any more. I forgave you but I never forgave him. And I can't believe you'd even bring this up to me knowing the whole history. Why would I want anything to do with him?"

"I guess you'll be pissed to hear I gave him your cell number."

Sam shook her head. "Not your smartest move by far."

"He's really interested in seeing you again. Catch up. Talk."

"Well then you get a hold of him and tell him to loose my number and forget I ever existed the way I did with him for the last fourteen years."

Erica sighed heavily. "You can't hold grudges forever, Samantha." she told her cousin.

"Yes." she said. "I can."

* * *

"I called Amelia." Sam announced as she stepped into the bedroom after taking her bath.

Flack was all ready in bed, sitting up, back against the head board, attempting to catch up on the reading of his expectant father book that he'd let slip the past couple of weeks. He was finding it difficult to get his brain to function on anything besides the massive guilt nagging at him for not telling Sam about getting a new partner. And just who that new partner was. He knew Danny was right. It was better if he was completely honest. That if Sam heard it from someone else she'd go ballistic. But at the same time he was afraid to do it. Just in case she went ballistic regardless of how she heard the news.

"And?" he asked, trying not to look at her in her little black tank top and her black satin lounging pants she was planning to wear to bed. Damn things clung to every curve and showed an incredible amount of skin. She was tormenting him. He knew it. And he loved it.

"She was happy to hear that we agreed to take everything." Sam said, grabbing her own book off the night stand and pulling the covers back. "She wants me to come over to her hotel tomorrow and iron things out."

"Whatever you need to do." Flack said.

"I'll have to hire a lawyer." Sam sighed, slipping into bed. "Have them go to Arizona on my behalf seeing as I can't travel. It's going to cost a fortune. How will I afford it?"

"You've got two hundred and a half g's coming in your direction. Find a lawyer that will wait until after he's done everything to get paid." Flack told her. "Most are pretty good about that sort of thing. And if he knows you're good for the cash afterwards, there won't be a problem."

"Do you know anyone? You come across a lot of lawyers."

"I know criminal attorneys. Not family ones."

"But those criminal attorneys may know family attorneys." Sam said. "They may be able to give you some names."

"I'll call a couple of the ones that are on my shit list for fucking up cases and see if they can help us out. I'm sure they must know people." Flack shifted in the bed and fought not to look at her. She smelled incredible. Her lavender body wash that one smell of had him going absolutely crazy.

"Thank you." she said, kissing his cheek softly before settling in beside him and cracking open her book.

"What were you and Erica talking about in the kitchen?" Flack asked curiously. "One minute you guys were laughing and having a good time and then things went all quiet and serious."

"Just girl talk. Nothing serious. She ran into someone from her past and wanted my opinion on it. No biggie."

"Must be a guy. Only time women get all serious like that is over a guy."

"It was no one important." Sam told him. "Just some loser she met up with. What were you and Danny talking about?"

Flack shrugged and marked the page he was on and closed the book. "Guy stuff. You know, sports, women, work, sex. That type of thing."

"You've just been really quiet since he left and I thought maybe something was wrong."

"Nothing wrong." Flack assured, tossing his book on the nightstand. "Work stress. Always work stress."

Sam nodded. "At least you'll have a few days to take it easy and catch up on some sleep and stuff. Just promise me you'll keep up on your meds and keeping your arm clean when I'm not home."

"I promise." Flack said, kissed her softly and quickly and then stretched out on his back.

"You sure that's all that's bugging you?" Sam asked, looking down at him.

"I'm sure."

"Did I do something wrong that you're mad about?"

"What? No. Of course not. You didn't do anything. It's just me. I'm tired and sore and all these meds are fucking up my head. I just need some sleep. And so do you. You read that book every night. One night without it isn't going to kill you."

"You know I like to keep up on what the baby is doing and stuff like that."

"I know. But you need rest, Sam. You've been going to bed way too late and you're going to burn yourself out. So just put it away and take a night off of everything. Okay? Just lie down and take it easy."

"I am tired." she agreed and closed the book and put it back on the table before flicking off the lamp. She arranged her pillows just right and then lay down on her side, facing him, cuddling tightly into him, her hand on his stomach.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and buried his face in her still damp hair. "If there was something in my past that I knew would piss you off if someone else told you, would you think it would be better for me to tell you first?" he asked.

"Is this hypothetical?" she countered.

"Strictly. Would you rather hear it from me or someone else?"

"You. Much better that way."

"But you'd still be pissed?"

"It would depend what the something is. Why?"

"No reason. Just wondering."

They lay in silence for some time in the darkness of the room. Holding each other, enjoying one another's warmth and security.

"You'd do the same if it was something about you, right? Flack asked. "Tell me something before some one else did."

"Of course. But I don't have anything to tell you." she said and yawned noisily. "Do you? Have something to tell me?"

"Yeah." he said. "I do."

She raised her head to look at him.

He brought his hand up to smooth the hair away from her face. "I love you." he told her. "More than you'll ever know."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "I love you, too." she said and settled back down in his arms.

Flack sighed heavily, eyes on the ceiling as he listened to her soft breathing. Knowing the exact moment when her breathing shallowed out that she had fallen asleep.

Sleep wouldn't come easy for him.

Guilt was a bitch.

**A BIG thank you to all of my readers and reviewers. I appreciate each and everyone of you. I love hearing from you guys! Keep it up!**

**Todays plugs:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (over on the Miami side of things)**

**Mauviene: Someday**

**Laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**Forest Angel: Coming Home**

**There are so many more. If I have forgotten anyone, it was not intentional and I will get to you next time!**


	68. Just one of those days

**Just one of those days**

"Hey boys, hey girls  
Hey anybody who will listen to me  
In case you haven't noticed  
It's just me against the world today  
I fell out the wrong side of the bed and landed in the worst mood  
With that stupid alarm clock  
Screaming at me from across the room  
I'm tryin' to be nice,  
I'm trying to be reasonable  
But it's oh so hard when I don't wanna be  
If you're looking for that nice girl from the day before  
Don't bother she don't live here anymore."  
– Me Against the World., Halo Friendlies

**Special thanks to 'my Montana' for supplying me with the music. And someone to lean on.**

Sam knew it was going to be one of those days the moment she woke up the following morning and looked over at the clock radio and discovered the illuminated display was flashing 12:00 continuously instead of showing the time. She bolted up right in bed, instantly panicking about being late for work and reached across the bed to pick up Flack's right arm to check the watch on his wrist.

Quarter to eight.

"Shit!" she cursed out loud and dropped his arm with enough force to wake him up out of a dead sleep. She tossed the covers off of her and nearly twisted her ankle jumping out of bed so quickly. The sudden movement caused her to feel dizzy -a by product of the vertigo she'd somehow developed in the last month- and then immediately sick to her stomach. Fighting back the nausea that seemed to still haunt her despite the medications, she forced herself to sit back down on the bed and close her eyes and breathe slow and deep. The last thing that she wanted or needed when she was late for work was spending to better part of the morning hunkered over the toilet throwing up.

Five more months, she told herself. Five more months and this will be finished. I'll feel healthy again. I'll feel human again. Because this is just bullshit to have to suffer like this just to bring a kid into the world that will cause you even more grief for eighteen years. She was convinced she would never survive another five months. Never mind what childbirth would have in store.

I was not cut out for this. What was I thinking? I'm not motherhood material. I can't handle carrying the kid for nine months. How the hell will I survive taking care of it? This is what they make birth control for. To prevent weak, pathetic women like me from getting knocked up. To prevent innocent children from having the misfortune of having me for their mother.

She had to remind herself that she wasn't the only guilty party in this situation. She didn't get herself pregnant. She wasn't the only one having fun that night and many others before it and after. It wasn't just her DNA the spawn of Satan was carrying around. No. She had help in the entire thing. And said help was now moving behind her, rolling over onto his back and reaching out and rubbing her back softly.

"What's a matter?" Flack asked, his voice groggy. "You okay?"

"Thanks a lot for knocking me up!" she snapped.

"What?" he was dazed and blurry eyed from both sleep and medication. "What's wrong? You sick?"

"I feel like shit." she informed him. "I got out of bed too quick and the vertigo hit me."

"Doctor said to get out of bed slowly." he reminded her, stroking her back comfortingly.

"I know that, Donald. And I feel like I'm going to barf all over the place. So thank you very much."

"Whatever you say, sweetie." he said and yawned noisily and rolled onto his side away from her. He knew better than to argue or toss out a sarcastic comment when she got into a hormonal meltdown and was beginning to learn to just let the mood pass with saying little or nothing at all. It only made things worse to fight back.

"You know," she said, standing up slowly, the dizziness and nausea now a thing of the past. "A little sympathy would be nice."

"I am very sympathetic to your suffering." Flack told her. "But I'm also sympathetic to my own suffering. I need sleep."

"You're such a damn baby." she grumbled. "Not like the guy had rabies or anything. Why is it when men get sick or hurt it's the end of the world?"

"You mean the same way every woman that gets pregnant thinks they're the only one that has ever been through it before?" Flack countered.

Sam frowned and turned and picked up her pillow and swatted him in the head with it.

Flack snatched the pillow off of her and tucked it underneath him. "Only a few more months." he reminded her. "Then it'll all be over."

"Not soon enough." Sam sighed. "How'd we ever get ourselves into this mess?"

"Want me to give you a detailed play by play or show you?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I'd say the latter but we both know it's out of the question for a bit. Not to mention I'm all ready seriously running behind. The alarm got screwed up. The power must have went off sometime last night."

"Bad thunderstorm last night." Flack explained. "I'm surprised you didn't hear it. Usually you're cowering under the covers ."

"I'm a wimp, what can I say? I'm going to take your truck. I don't want to take a cab and I'll never survive the claustrophobia of the subway. Either that or you can get up and drive me to work."

"Keys are on the microwave." he told her. "Just don't screw around with the radio and do not leave all kinds of girlie stuff lying around or spray any flowery perfume shit in it. I find any lip gloss or whatever on the seats, I will kick your ass."

"I forgot. It's your baby. I promise I'll be gentle with her."

"Try to avoid parallel parking. I've seen your attempts at it. And try not to get any speeding tickets or get into any road rage incidences."

"Well there goes all my fun." Sam declared and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

The gas tank was damn near empty. Of course, she didn't realize it until she was stuck in traffic heading into midtown. Her cell phone pressed to her ear as she attempted to explain to Mac why she hadn't been at the morning's team meeting and why it was taking her so long to get to the lab from a mere fifteen blocks away.

The needle was in between a quarter of tank and empty. And it was edging closer and closer to empty as she sat idling in the middle lane of bumper to bumper traffic with the closest gas station several blocks in either direction.

She sensed she either shocked or amused Mac with the amount and quality of the expletives that came tumbling easily out of her mouth. You could take the girl out of the Brooklyn projects but not the Brooklyn projects out of the girl. People never knew what hit them when she got on a profanity laced tirade. But she looks so sweet and innocent, people often said. She's so tiny and cute. The girl next door. She couldn't possibly be anything but sugary sweet. Adam had heard that comment many a time when they were growing up, and he'd simply nod his head in agreement and think, Just you wait. His adorable baby sister could pack a punch harder than an average man and had a dictionary of curses that could make a drunken trucker blush.

And, as both Adam and Sam would freely admit to, she could be the biggest bitch on the face of the earth. The queen of mean. These weren't personality traits she was proud of, but they had helped her out of many a tight spot and had made her successful in a male dominated profession.

Besides, she was only that way to the people that most deserved it. Perps, uncooperative, disinterested witnesses and defense attorneys. The latter weren't all bad. Outside of the court room she'd gone out for a night on the town with a few on more than one occasion and found them a hell of a lot of fun. But the next day, you could be on the witness stand being grilled by someone you just had Jello shooters with less than twelve hours before. Hard to be kind when someone was ripping apart your profession and trying to make you look incompetent in the course of attempting to set someone as guilty as hell out onto the streets.

This morning, Don Flack belonged in that small group of people who deserved to be slaughtered. And Mac Taylor was hearing exactly how Sam planned to carry out the crime. If he could make out a word in between the curses.

"You can fill it up at work in the garage." Mac told her once he'd been able to figure out what her problem was.

"If I ever damn well get there!" Sam snapped and laid on the horn in hopes it would encourage the mess of cars to at least budge an inch.

"Be in as soon as you can." Mac had said and hung up. She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was amused by her verbal assualt on someone twice her size. If she had money to put down on it, Sam would have bet Mac was smirking the entire time and probably had a damn good laugh once he hung up.

It took nearly an hour to complete a drive that should have only taken twenty minutes. She went directly into the garage and got out and found one of the techs to fill the tank for her. It should have been simple. How hard could filling a gas tank be?

Only when they told her to hit the button on the inside of the driver's side door that would unlock the gas cap, she discovered she couldn't get into the truck.

She had locked the keys inside. She'd taken them out of the ignition but had laid them on the seat as she got out.

And the only way to get them out was using a slim jim or a coat hanger. Both options were a pain in the ass and may or may not work.

"How about calling your husband and getting him to bring the extra key down?" the tech suggested.

"How about you find a better idea?" Sam retorted.

In the end, it took fifteen minutes with a coat hanger to finally pop the lock. Sam would have felt more relieved if the hanger hadn't left a trail of scratches and gouges in the once picture perfect, glossy black paint in the nearly brand new SUV.

This really is the day from hell, Sam thought as she fought off the urge to cry. And for the third time that morning, she wished she had called in sick.

* * *

Emma Maxwell waited patiently in one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of Detective Mac Taylor's clutter free desk. Her appointment with Mac was scheduled for one thirty and it was all ready ten minutes to two. She had never known a time that Mac wasn't running around handling a thousand different things at once. How he ever managed to keep his sanity while running the hectic, swamped New York City Crime Lab was beyond her. And an even bigger mystery was how he managed to hold everything together and run things like a well oiled machine with so many different personalities and work styles to juggle. Mac Taylor was extremely well respected. He believed in three things: protecting the United States of America regardless of cost and personal sacrifice, keeping safe the citizens of the the city of New York and upholding the integrity of his lab.

And God help anyone who got in the way of those three things.

The New York City Crime Lab was one of the best, if not the best, in all of the country. And it was all thanks to Mac and his stellar hiring practices. He only employed the best and demanded nothing but the best from them. And they delivered time and time again.

It was why Max was so honoured when Inspector Gerrard and Chief of Detectives Sinclair had not only moved her over to homicide, but announced she had been short listed to work in conjuncture with the crime lab. To be considered among the best was overwhelming and nerve wracking, but she knew that she could hold her own against the best. And hopefully be accepted into the fold. She'd heard from many that Mac Taylor's team was closer than most families. She only hoped she'd be a welcome addition and not a scorned outsider.

"How much longer, momma?" a tiny voice at her feet asked.

Emma glanced down at her three year old daughter Daria, who was cross legged on the floor, scribbling in a Disney's Madagascar coloring book, her Dora the Explorer knapsack and ever present, loyal companion, Paddington the teddy bear tucked into either side of her securely.

"A few more minutes." Max replied, running a hand over Daria's silky, wavy blond hair.

Daria was as fair as her mother was dark. Her eyes as blue as the sky as opposed to Max's emerald green. And when she looked up at her mother with those big eyes and her head tilted to the side, Max was struck by the striking resemblance the little girl bore to her father. The father Max never spoke about and hadn't seen in almost five years. No one knew his identity and Max was determined to keep it that way.

Things had started out so good and ended up so bad. All the promises that a separation would lead to a divorce actually ended at nothing. He'd gone back to his estranged wife and had broken Max's heart in the process. And left her with a pregnancy in the early first trimester. She'd never told him about the baby and never would. He didn't deserve to know such a wonderful, beautiful child. Their paths rarely crossed after the break up and when they did she pawned the pregnancy off as another relationship she was involved in. And after he'd done what he had two years ago, Max vowed to never think of him again.

One day Daria would ask about her father. And Max hated the idea of telling her that he was crooked cop who got what he deserved.

"You said that three times all ready." Daria informed her matter of factly.

"Well this is the fourth time." Max said.

Daria sighed dramatically. "I'm bored." she complained.

"I know. Not too much longer. Mac is a very busy man and he's going as fast as he can."

"I want to go home." Daria said. "I'm really, really, really bored momma."

"You just sit tight and keep yourself busy. It's why we brought along your crayons and your colouring books. Mac will be here soon and then after I finish talking to him, we can go. Okay?"

Another massive sigh. "Okay." Daria reluctantly agreed and went back to her colouring.

Max turned her attention back to the old Time magazine in her hands and tried to keep her mind off of the fact time seemed to be dragging. She was never a patient person. She hated waiting. Whether it be for the doctor to take you into the office for a scheduled appointment running half an hour behind or the subway that always ran on time except for the day you were exceptionally late.

"Momma?" Daria asked in her tiny voice.

"Yes, sweet pea?"

"Can we go and get ice cream after?" the little girl asked.

"I'd like to go for ice cream." Mac commented playfully as he stepped into his office.

"Nice to see you again, Detective Taylor." Max said, getting to her feet and offering her hand.

"I'll tell you the same thing I tell everyone when they start working for me," he shook her hand. "It's Mac. We're not sticklers for formalities around here. It's nice to see you again, Emma. It's been a while."

Mac Taylor was possibly the only person, other than her mother, that Max would considering letting get away with calling her by her first name.

"It has been." she agreed. "I know you've never met her, but I'm sure you remember me talking about my daughter, Daria."

"Of course. Talking very proudly and highly of." Mac crouched down to the little girl's level. "It's nice to meet you, Daria. You're even prettier than I imagined you would be. I'm Mac. I'm your mom's new boss."

"Hello." Daria said warily.

"I'm sorry I had to bring her with me." Max said as Mac stood up and went behind his desk, shedding his suit jacket and draping it over the back of his chair. "The baby sitter bailed at the last moment and I didn't have anyone else I trusted to watch her. I promise she won't be a bother."

Mac waved it off. "So you know, there's a phenomenal day care facility on the main floor. From what I hear the staff is incredible and many of the employees here and with the ME's office along with others from other precincts use it. I even have a CSI that will be using it herself in roughly seven months time. The cost is covered through benefits."

"I'll look into it." Max said.

Mac gestured for her to take a seat and then sat down after her. "Well, first let me say I was pleasantly surprised when your name came up on the short list handed to me by Gerrard. I always enjoyed you working my crime scenes as a uniform and I was always impressed with you during your stay with SVU when the unit handled my rape cases."

"Thank you."

"Second, congratulations on being moved over to homicide through the twelve precinct. Only the best work out of there."

"It was an honor to even be considered." Max said. "And an even bigger one when this opportunity came about."

"Well I hope that you'll enjoy working in conjuncture with the lab. I have a great team. The best in the country if I do say so myself. They're an eclectic bunch but their hard workers and know their stuff and never disappoint me. You'll be partnered with Detective Flack."

Max nodded. "Gerrard told me last week. I wonder what Flack thinks of that. He's always worked alone for the most part."

"I don't see why he'd have a problem." Mac said. "He's worked with a couple of other detectives and he gets along well with the team. No one has had a problem with him and some of the girls just give him back some of his own medicine when he gets too mouthy for their liking."

Max smiled. "He does have a way of getting a little too big on himself."

"His heart's in the right place." Max said. "There's some big things happening in his life. He's turning over a new leaf. Slowly but surely."

"Good for him. It's about time."

Mac chuckled. "It is." he agreed. "How have you been Emma? It's been a while."

"I've been okay. I was off for the last couple of months having shunt replacement surgery so that's why you haven't seen me around."

"How did that go?" Mac asked.

He knew Emma Maxwell's medical history. Born nine weeks premature, she had suffered a stroke three days after birth which resulted in her having to have a V-P shunt implanted on the left side of her head. It was a risky operation. A catheter was passed into a ventricle of the brain and a pump controlled the flow of inter-cranial fluids. On the end of the pump was a second catheter that tunnelled under the skin, behind the ear, down the neck and chest and into the abdominal cavity.

The stroke she'd suffered had also caused her to have cerebral palsy down the ride side of her body, resulting in her walking with a severe limp in her right leg.

Yet Mac knew from working alongside of her, that Emma Maxwell didn't let anything keep her down. She was strong and independent and would be an asset to his team.

Max shrugged. "It went okay. Better than previous ones. And I would have been off a lot longer if my sick pay hadn't have suddenly cut out and forced me back on the job. But what doesn't kill you will make you stronger I always say."

"Very true." Mac agreed. "And your family? How are they?"

"Same old."

"How about your brother?"

Max sighed. Talk of her brother was always a touchy subject. She avoided it when she could. Michael was twenty-five and had low functioning autism and an anxiety disorder. Behavioural and medical issues had seen her parents with no other choice to make than admitting him to a long term care facility. It was for the best. Everyone knew that.

"He's not my brother anymore, Mac." she responded quietly. "He didn't even know me or Daria when we went to visit him not long ago."

Mac nodded slowly. "If there's anything you need or anything I can do, don't hesitate to let me know. I say that to all my staff. My door is always open."

Emma smiled.

The phone on Mac's desk rang noisily and he excused himself and scooped up the receiver. "Detective Taylor." he answered, then listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line. His brow furrowed and his eyes concerned. "I'll let her know." he said after a couple of minutes and hung up. "That was for you." he told Max.

"Me?"

"Apparently you're missing something."

She arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"Something that is three feet tall and weighs about forty pounds." Mac said.

Horror passed over Max's face as she glanced back at the leather chairs and saw only the crayon and colouring books and Dora the Explorer back pack sitting there. And no child to claim them.

"Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Daria!"

"She's in good hands." Mac assured her. "One of my CSIs has her and is bringing her here. They tried calling but you have your phone off."

Max shook her head, embarrassed. And a little furious at her child. No wandering off she'd always been taught. Thank God for her name and contact number stitched into the collar of her jacket.

"Your daughter is a good judge of character." Mac said.

"How's that?" Max asked.

"Of all people to wander into, she picked the most honest, mother hen one of them all."

Max had never been so grateful of a stranger.

* * *

Sam had retreated to the break room for some peace and quiet. The trace lab was packed like a sardine can and the amount of noise generated by the various machines and people talking had been enough to bring on the start of a nasty migraine. Not to mention it was past two o'clock, she hadn't had anything to eat and she had forgotten to take all of her prescribed medication and her vitamins. Adam had forced her to take a break. He and Carmen were Flack's eyes and ears when he wasn't around and Sam knew full well they'd report back anything they didn't like or were concerned about.

Adam had run around the corner and picked her up McDonalds for lunch. Complete with a chocolate milkshake and ice cream sundae. She finished eating and taking all her meds and vitamins and took her shoes off and stretched her legs out under the table. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

Attempting some form of relaxtion until minutes later she felt something tugging at the hem of her blouse.

She opened her eyes and looked down.

There, standing by the side of her chair, was a tiny wisp of a little girl with rosy full cherub cheeks, soft pink lips and the most gorgeous blue eyes framed by impossibly long lashes. A mop of golden hair on her tiny head. Wearing a little denim jacket with pink and yellow flowers stitched into it and matching jeans and a little pink and white t-shirt and white runners with pink laces. The kind of runners where the heels lit up when you walked.

"Hi." the little girl chirped cheerfully.

"Uh…..hi." Sam responded.

"I'm Daria. I'm three and a half." she announced proudly, offering a tiny hand.

"I'm Samantha." Sam said, shaking the hand in front of her. "I'm thirty one and a half."

"That's old." Daria declared, eyes wide. "What grade are you in?"

"Well, I don't go to school anymore." Sam replied. "But if you want, you can tell people I'm in grade twenty eight."

"Okay." Daria agreed happily. "McDonalds?" she asked, recognizing the logo on the paper bag on the table.

Sam nodded and reached for the bag. "It's my favorite."

"Mine, too." Daria said and scrambled up onto the chair beside Sam.

Sam opened. Adam had bought her a six piece chicken nugget box but the chicken sandwich and fries and ice cream had done her in and she was going to save the rest for later. She took out the nugget box and a package of sweet and sour sauce.

"I love chicken nuggets!" Daria squealed.

"Good. Because you can share them with me." Sam told her and ripped open the sauce and sat two nuggets on a napkin in front of the little girl.

Daria got up onto her knees and moved closer to the table. She picked up a nugget, dipped it in the sauce and took a huge bite. "Thank you." she said around the mouthful of food.

"You're welcome." Sam told her, smiling at the adorable creature in front of her. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked, pushing her chair away from the table and standing up. "Milk? Apple juice?"

"Pop?" Daria asked hopefully.

"I think you should stick to milk or juice." Sam said, tossing her trash in the can by the door. "Better for you."

"Apple juice." Daria decided. "Please."

Sam went to the vending machine and fished some change from her pocket and bought a can of apple juice.

"Are you a mommy?" Daria asked, as Sam sat back down beside her, popped the tab on the juice and sat it on the table where the little girl would reach it.

"No." Sam replied. "But where is your mommy?"

Daria shrugged.

"Where was the last place you saw her?"

"I can't remember. She was with some man."

"Do you remember what this man looked like?" Sam asked.

"Like a man." Daria replied.

"What's your mom's name?"

"Emma Maxwell."

"Does she have a cell phone? Do you know the number?"

"I don't know the number."

Sam sighed. Trying to remember any times she may have dealt with lost children back in Arizona. She couldn't even recall a single wandering child she'd ever encountered. She wasn't ever in a position to be returning a child, living or dead, to their parents.

Then it hit her. Adam had been a notorious runner when they were little. He was always taking off from the front yard or the play ground at school and twice her mother had had to call the NYPD thinking he'd been snatched from the front of the house and his teacher had called the cops more than once when he didn't come back from recess. He mother had resorted to stitching his name and their phone number somewhere in his clothes.

Sam took the chance. She got up and went around to the back of Daria's chair and pulled down the neck of her jacket. There was a small label sewn on the neck. DARIA MAXWELL 212-555-7891. Sam unclipped her cell phone from her waist band and dialled the number.

It went straight to voice mail. Just as she hung up after leaving a message, her cell rang. She checked the call display. Flack.

"You were suppose to call when you got there." he told her in a groggy voice when she answered.

"Sorry, dad. I didn't realize it was a necessity for me to check in. I do have a driver's license, you know. I can drive. "

"I was thinking more along the lines of you getting into an accident." he said.

"You are way too paranoid." Sam told him. "I'm kind of having an issue here."

"What kind of an issue?"

"This little girl wandering the lab happened upon me. She has her name and contact number stitched into her clothes, but it's a cell number and goes straight to voice mail."

"Where's the parents?"

"She says that her mommy is here somewhere. With some man."

"Thousands of men around that place. She say what this man looks like?"

"She said a man. That's it."

"What's the mother's name? Have her paged."

"The name is Emma Maxwell."

"What did you say?"

"The mother. Her name is Emma Maxwell."

"Kid's name is Daria. Blond hair, blue eyes. Right?"

"How'd you know that?" Sam asked.

"I know the mother. And the little girl. And I also know that Emma Maxwell is most likely in Mac's office right this second."

Sam frowned. "Don, how…."

"Doesn't matter. You take the kid and head down to Mac's office and I'll call him and let them know you have her."

"Okay. But…"

The line went dead. At first Sam had thought he'd hung up on her. Until she looked at her display and saw that the battery had gone dead. She had put it in charge when she got home the night before and just now remembered the power had gone out .

Still, that didn't excuse him being so rude and offhand. And that seemed to be becoming a habit with him lately. He was starting to remind her a little of Zack. And that was a frightening thought that literally made her feel sick to her stomach. And the realization that Flack was a younger version of Clint was even more startling.

Right now, she couldn't worry about stuff like that. But the dull ache in her heart told her that something wasn't right and needed to change. And it was up to her to change it.

Sam waited until Daria finished her nuggets and juice and then cleaned up the little one's face.

"Come on, sweet pea," she said, offering her hand. "Let's go and find your mommy."

Daria jumped down from her seat and eagerly took Sam's hand. "You're really pretty." she told Sam as they headed from the room. "I bet you got lots of boyfriends."

"Just one." Sam said.

"Bet he thinks you're really pretty. Like a princess."

Sam smiled. Thinking, as they headed down the busy hallway, I am seriously starting to wonder that kid.

* * *

Max waited outside of Mac's office. Thanking her lucky stars that her daughter had managed to latch onto someone honest and decent as opposed to any old nut job that could be wandering the halls. And she cursed herself for getting so caught up in her meeting with Mac that she didn't realize her child had up and wandered off. What kind of mother didn't notice their child disappear? Usually she was right on top of Daria and her whereabouts. Things like that just did not happen.

"Dancerella!" a familiar voice called to her from the end of the hall.

Max recognized that voice and that old nickname. Her interest in dance and her love of skating was well known to her friends and family, and the moniker Dancerella had been pasted onto her after an infamous night of karaoke and dance a couple of years ago. And there was only one person who called her Dancerella. Or any nickname for that matter.

She turned in the direction of the voice and smiled brightly at Danny Messer as he fast approached, a broad grin on his handsome face.

"Ugly brother." she greeted in return, and soon found herself scooped up into a tight hug.

"Come on." Danny feigned insult. "I always have been the good looking one."

"You wish." she laughed and kissed his cheek. "Been keeping yourself out of trouble?" she asked.

"For the most part. Trouble seems to find me, though. You? Where you been? Haven't seen you around in forever? Though maybe you got tired of us and skipped town."

"Not chance. I had my shunt replacement surgery a couple months back."

"How'd that go?" Danny asked. "You feeling all right?"

"It went well. I feel much better. Back in the saddle again."

"Good. I missed seein' ya around. So I hear you're going to be working with us."

"I start next Monday."

"Well let me be the first to welcome you to our big massively dysfunctional family."

"Can't be that bad."

"We're all just a little unhinged." Danny said. "You'll see for yourself soon enough. So, where's the rug rat? Sitter?"

"She's actually….."

"Momma!" Daria cried happily from the end of the hall and dropped Sam's hand in order to run to her mother's waiting arms.

"Playing babysitter?" Danny asked Sam, as she joined him and Max, who while relieved to see her daughter, was scolding her about running off in between smothering her with kisses. "Getting some experience?"

"Just a bit." Sam said.

"Thank you sooo much." Max gushed to Sam. She'd never seen this CSI before. But she knew by that trendy hair cut and porcelain features and willowy body that she was no doubt Miss Popularity.

"No problem." Sam said with a smile. "We had a nice time. She's a great lunch companion."

"We had chicken nuggets." Daria told her mother. "And apple juice."

"I hope that was okay." Sam said sheepishly. "She saw me with my lunch and wanted some."

"It's fine." Max assured her. "I'm just glad she found someone that would never run off with her."

"So am I." Sam said.

"Do either of you guys know if Detective Flack is working today?" Max asked, a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

Uh-oh, Danny thought. Best be keeping my mouth shut and just watch this enfold,

"He's off for a few days." Sam replied. "He got hurt in interrogation yesterday and the doctor wanted him to take some sick days."

"Flack taking a day off?" Max laughed. "That's a shock. Hell must have frozen over."

"He's stubborn." Sam agreed. "You're a friend of his?"

Max nodded. "And we worked together. Well, not together, together. But I was a uniform and worked a lot of his scenes. And our paths crossed a lot when I worked SVU."

"You're a detective?" Sam asked.

"Just got transferred to homicide. Flack and I…"

Hawkes, passing by the small group, tapped Sam lightly and playfully on top of the head with a file he was carrying.

"You busy?" he asked.

"I can be." she replied.

"Want to give me a hand in ballistics? I'll do the dangerous stuff and you put the weapon together for me and analyse the bullets?"

"I love you, Hawkes." Sam declared. "It was nice to meet you." she said to Max.

"You, too. And thank you again."

"No problem. 'Bye Daria. Thanks for lunch."

"Thank you!" the little girl called and blew Sam a kiss.

"Don't be letting her fire anything, Hawkes!" Danny yelled as the two left for ballistics.

"I know her restrictions, Messer. I wrote half of them myself." Hawkes reminded him. "She's in good hands."

"I'll be gentle with him." Sam said, winking at Danny over her shoulder. "Unless the good doctor doesn't want it that way."

Hawkes just shook his head and smirked.

"You're a bad girl, Brooklyn." Danny said.

She grinned. "I try my best."

* * *

"So?" Max asked, after the two CSIs had disappeared. "Whose the new girl?"

"That's Brooklyn." Danny replied.

Max arched an eyebrow. "Brooklyn? That's her real name?"

"Naw. I just call her Brooklyn the same way I call you Dancerella. That's Samantha Ross."

"How long has she been here?"

"Six months. She's our ballistics expert. Damn good CSI. She's been working in Arizona the past few years and than she came back home to New York."

"She seems nice."

"She is."

"Not to mention she's pretty cute. Another notch on your bed post, Messer?"

"I wish. I never got the chance. Someone else got to her first."

"Danny!" Carmen called from the doorway to trace. "You seen Sam? Her results just came through GC/MS!"

"She's down in ballistics with Hawkes!"

Carmen frowned. "She's what?"

"It's okay. Hawkes will keep an eye on her."

Carmen shed her lab coat and tore off her latex gloves. "She's not suppose to be doing ballistics." she huffed and took off to give her friend shit.

"See what I mean?" Danny asked Max. "We are a messed up bunch."

"New girl seems popular." Max commented.

Danny arched an eyebrow. "You honestly don't know who she is?" he asked.

"Is there something scandalous I should know about?" Max countered.

"Not scandalous. Surprising for some, maybe."

"Enlighten me, Messer."

"She's Flack's girl."

"Girl? Or is there more to it than that? I saw that rock on her finger."

Danny smiled. "She's his fiancee. They're getting married in December. Christmas Eve to be exact."

Max was more than a little surprised. "Wow…..that's interesting….you know, considering what Flack is like."

"Well in his defence, he's grown up since he met her. He's crazy about her. I've never seen him this happy. Or in love. They're perfect for each other. And she loves him. Unconditionally. I'm happy for both of them."

"If that's what Flack wants, a wife and some kids, all the power to him." Max said. "Kinda happened quick didn't it?"

"No set time on things like that." Danny told her. "Not to mention she's pregnant."

"Shot gun wedding, huh? Never figured Flack to be the type to get hitched just 'cause he got someone in trouble. As honourable as that is, I just didn't think he'd be the one to do it."

"He's marrying her because she's the love of his life." Danny corrected.

Max nodded, considering what Danny had just said. "Good for him, than." she said. "I'm glad that things are working out for him. And good for her, too. Scoring a guy like him. Being the one to tame him."

Danny smirked. "Don't be jealous." he said.

"Jealous?" Max laughed. "Please. She can have him."

"Only because you can't." Danny said. "He isn't…you know…Daria's father is he? Is that why you're so bent out of shape?"

"I am not bent out of shape." Max argued. "I'm just a little surprised."

"You didn't deny it." Danny said. "About him being Daria's father."

"I have to get going." Max told him, a drowsy Daria on her hip. "Maybe we can get together sometime outside of work."

"Sure." Danny agreed. "Just call or drop by up here. You know where to find me. You could meet my girl."

"God. You too?"

"No engagement or anything like that. But she's amazing. Erica. She's an ICU nurse. You'll love her."

"Well I'm glad some people are finding happiness." Max sighed.

"Maybe you were just banking all your hopes on the wrong guy." Danny suggested.

"Let go of this me and Flack thing. We had an understanding. Things never went beyond that and that was fine with us."

"You ever want things to go beyond that?" asked Danny.

"Doesn't matter now, does it." she replied. "He's getting married. Having a baby. Creating a life for himself."

"He's happy, Max. Be happy for him."

A loud knock came to the glass wall of the AV room they were standing a mere few feet away from. Adam was rapping on the glass with his knuckles and waving Danny into the room.

"I gotta go." Danny said. "Lots to do. We're working on a double homicide in the Bronx. Catch you later?"

"Of course."

Danny hugged her warmly. "Nice to see you again. Looking forward to working with ya."

"Nothing but fun and games, Messer." she laughed and hugged him back. "You keep yourself out of trouble."

He grinned as he released his hold on her and headed for the AV lab. "What kind of fun would that be?" he asked.

* * *

"Must be love." Danny commented as he and Sam crossed the first level underground parking lot.

It was six thirty in the evening and their days were mercifully over. At least for another twelve, thirteen hours. Sam had offered to give Danny a drive home when he mentioned walking her over to the subway station to make sure she got there safely. Sam didn't own a car, so he was surprised when she waved the keys in front of his face.

He was even more surprised when Sam led the way through the garage to Flack's truck.

"Why's that?" Sam asked. To Danny she sounded down. She'd given him that impression all day. He chalked it up to the fact she wasn't sleeping well.

"He lent you his truck. Flack doesn't let anyone drive his baby. Not even me. Must love ya a hell of a lot to let you borrow it."

"I think it was more that he was too lazy to get out of bed this morning to drive me." Sam said, pressing a button on the key chain to shut the alarm off and unlock the doors. "Besides, it will be the first and last time he lets me take it. He's going to kill me."

"Why's that?"

Sam motioned for Danny to follow her around to the driver's side door. She pointed to the gouges and scratches in the paint. "That's why." she said.

Danny shrugged. "No big deal. What happened?"

"I locked the keys inside when I went to get the tank filled. Mark in the garage had to use a coat hanger to get into it."

"Nothing major. Nothing Flack will have a coronary over."

"I don't know." Sam said in a quiet voice.

So quiet Danny wasn't even sure at first she'd even said anything. He glanced over at her and saw the tears that threatened in her eyes. "Hey…." he said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's not a bid deal. He's not going to freak out. I know Flack. And this isn't something that would cause him to loose it. And if it makes you feel better, my brother Anthony is a mechanic in Staten Island and I could get him to do me a favor and fix it up for free. Really, Brooklyn. This isn't a huge thing."

"It's not that." she said and brushed away tears with the back of her hands.

"What is it?"

"Lots of things. Everything. I don't know anymore. All I know is that something isn't right and I need to change it."

"What do you mean?" Danny asked.

"It's nothing." Sam replied.

"It's something or you wouldn't be like this." Danny said.

"It's just me, Danny. My hormones and all that. I'll be fine."

"It's Max, isn't it."

Sam sighed. "Who is she, Danny? Other than another detective. Who is she?"

"You know what?" Danny reached out and wiped her tears away with a gentle thumb. "I think you need to go home and ask Flack that."

"Shit. It's that bad?" she looked like she was ready to burst into tears.

"No. It's not. But it's still something you need to talk to him about."

Sam nodded, considering that. "Do I have anything to worry about, Danny?" she asked.

"Not that I know of." he replied.

She sniffled noisily. "But I won't like what he has to say, will I."

Danny managed a small smile. "You need to go home and tell him you want the whole story."

"What if I don't want to hear it?" she asked.

Danny sighed. "You need to hear it." he replied.

Samantha didn't like the sound of that.

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. Much appreciation to all of you. Sorry updates are taking longer now, but real life is kicking me in the butt and things haven't been all sunshine and roses here the last couple of days. But I love you all and hope you keep enjoying this story.**

**Today's plugs:**

**Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (a fantastic Miami fic)**

**Mauviene: Someday**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**

**And so many others! **


	69. The thin line between love and hate

**The thin line between love and hate**

"Every time we lie awake  
After every hit we take  
Every feeling that I get  
But I haven't missed you yet

Every roommate kept awake  
By every sigh, and scream we make  
All the feelings that I get  
But I still don't miss you yet

Only when I stop to think about it

I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you?  
I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you?"

-I Hate Everything About You, Three Days Grace

* * *

**I don't know why I feel the need to do this, but here it goes: any really devoted, sensitive Flack fans may want to stay away from the fight in this chapter. I love him but he's protrayed as less than perfect here. More human.**

**Special thanks and shout outs to 'sister luv v.2' for her support and love (and the song) and hope4sall for all her late night chats and ideas she graciously tossed my way. Much love to you both.**

**Once again: you want to borrow something, please ask. Or at least let me know you are going to do it.**

* * *

It was quarter to eight by the time Sam got the key into the lock. She was tired. More so emotionally than physically. She cursed her out of control hormones for making her so on edge. Raging mad one moment, in tears the next. She didn't know how much longer she could ride that roller coaster. It was wearing her out and turning her into a hallow shell of the woman that she used to be. She considered calling the  
doctor. Asking for something to control the chronic mood swings and recurring insomnia. There had to be something out there to even herself out, stop making her so irritable with those closest to her. It was always the ones that she loved the most and tried their damndest to make her happy that paid the price. And it wasn't fair to them.

But she wasn't the only one to blame for the latest emotional turmoil she was causing herself. She had promised herself that she was past playing the self blame game the minute Zack had turned up dead in that prison shower and cleared the way for her to go on with her life. No man was ever going to make her feel like that again. Not her step father and certainly not her future husband. The talk with Danny had unnerved her. She knew that there was some sort of history between Don and Max. She could tell by the way Danny avoided the topic every time she tried to bring it up. And if this Max was going to be working close to Don, Sam was damn well going to make sure working was all they were going to be doing.

And he wasn't going to convince her it was no big deal or brush it off like it wasn't important.

Danny had all but begged her to stay calm regardless of what she heard. Even if it was the worst case scenario. Freaking out wasn't going to do her, or the baby, any good. And she had to remind herself that Flack was with her. Not anyone else. And that she'd managed the impossible. Getting him to commit and settle down and take his future seriously. That meant more than anything in his past. And that's what it was. His past. History. It had no bearing on what they had and what they wanted out of their life together.

By the time she even stepped in the front door, fighting was the last thing on her mind. Her mini meltdown in the parking garage had stripped her of the energy it took to argue. All she really wanted to do was sit in a hot bath and put on some comfy clothes and relax for the rest of the night. Sleep for twenty four hours would have been preferred. But seeing as that wasn't going to happen, a quiet night and early bed time sounded better than nothing.

"Hey." she said from the doorway to the kitchen where Flack was at the stove, making dinner. Whatever he was making smelled damn good and her stomach grumbled noisily.

"Hey." he greeted. "You sound exhausted."

"I am. What are you making?"

"I went down to that market down the street and got some of that bruschetta breaded tilapia you like and a variety of salads and some of the key lime pie from Bellusos. Hope your hungry."

"When am I not?" she quipped, trying to sound cheerful.

"You okay?" Flack asked, crossing the kitchen and laying a hand on her hip and bending down to kiss her. Pulling back to look down at her, a little surprised , when she turned her head to the side so that his lips connected with her cheek as opposed to her mouth.

"I'm going to take a bath." she said in response, slipping past him and leaving the small kitchen.

"Was it that bad of a day?" Flack asked, looking at the empty doorway long after she passed through it.

"It was." she replied, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

* * *

They didn't speak all through dinner. Flack would watch her from across the table and wonder what the hell had ever gone wrong in her day that had done such a number on her. It had been a long time since he'd seen her look so down. The last time he'd seen that darkness in her eyes and the sadness on her face was when she had told him about being abused as a child and what Zack had put her through. She had seemed to turn a corner, mood wise, once she had gotten all the skeletons out of her closet. And Zack's death had seemed to banish that darkness once and for all.

So this quiet, sullen, sad mood was disturbing to him. And he wondered if maybe the doctor had been right about her being a candidate for pre-partum depression. He considered making a phone call to the woman in the morning to express his concerns and get some advice. Because when Samantha wasn't her usual bubbly, chatty self, there was definitely something to worry about.

They were standing at the sink, doing up the dishes when someone finally spoke. Flack was drying while Sam was up to her elbows in soapy water. He was watching her out of the corner of her eye, thinking how adorable she was in her baggy sweats and her tattered t-shirt that barely covered her navel, barrettes holding hair away from the sides of her flawless, make up free face. Without any make up she looked years younger than what she was. A fresh faced high school girl.

"So your day was that bad?" he asked, reaching over her head to put a glass in the cupboard above her.

"Bad enough." she replied. "Why didn't you tell me I needed to get gas before I left? I had to find out in the middle lane in the midst of a nasty traffic jam."

"Sorry. I guess it just slipped my mind with everything that happened yesterday."

"Things went from bad to worse when I had a little incident with your truck." she said.

"An incident? As in an accident?"

"Not that bad." she assured him.

He shrugged. "As long as you're okay, that's all that matters." he told her.

"When I went to get gas put in at the CSI garage, I got out and shut the door behind me and locked the keys inside. I had taken them out of the ignition and sat them on the passenger seat."

"Why didn't you call me to come down with the extra key?"

"I didn't want to wake you up after what happened yesterday." she reasoned. "One of the techs managed to break in and get the keys."

Flack frowned. "Break in? How?"

"He used a coat hanger. I wouldn't have told you if there wasn't a bit of damage done to the door."

Flack sighed.

"Danny says that his brother will most likely fix it free of charge." she said quickly. "It's not a huge thing. Just small. And I didn't mean to do it."

"You sure have your blond moments, Samantha. You're a regular Anna Nicole Smith sometimes."

She knew he was just joking. But those words cut deep into her and a dull ache appeared in her chest. "Do you have to do that?" she asked.

"What?" Flack asked, oblivious to the fact he'd hurt her feelings.

"Say mean things like that. Make fun of me." she scrubbed furiously at a dish in her hands.

"I meant it as a joke." Flack informed her, surprised at her reaction.

"Well it wasn't funny. It hurt my feelings. And I don't appreciate you making fun of me like you do."

"I didn't realize it hurt your feelings. Or that I was making fun of you. Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because before it didn't bother me. But it does now and I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it."

"Fine. I won't do it. I'm sorry. I'll watch what I say."

"Thank you." she said. "How was your day?"

"Okay. Didn't do much. Those meds make me tired. I called one of the lawyers I'm on friendly terms with and he's gonna get back to me with phone numbers for family attorneys that can handle this Zack thing. And Gerrard called."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted to inform me that I'm being sent to anger management. Work ordered. For smashing that perp's head off the floor."

"It was a logical response if you ask me." Sam said. "Anyone would have reacted like that. But the anger management might actually be a good thing for you."

Flack snorted. "Whatever." he said. "When are you on Gerrard's side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side. And you know I support you no matter what."

"I know." he said, and laid a hand on the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her temple. Frowning when he saw, and felt, her stiffen right up. "What the hell is going on, Sam?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"You get all weird as soon as I touch you. You're never like that. What's going on?"

She pulled the plug in the sink of soapy water and dried her hands on the towel he was holding. "How do you know Emma Maxwell?" she asked. "You knew her daughter right away. You must know her well enough to know her kid."

"She's just another cop." Flack replied, drying the plates and putting them in the cupboard. "She used to work a lot of my crime scenes when she was a uniform. Sometimes our paths would cross when she worked in SVU. I haven't seen her around in months. Heard she had some surgery to repair a V-P shunt in her brain."

"You seem to know a lot about her for just someone you chatted up at a crime scenes." Sam commented.

"We talked a lot. She hung around with me and Danny a couple times. Nothing major."

"Hmmm. That's funny. Because the way she asked about you and the way her eyes lit up at the idea of catching up with you, seemed a lot more than just occasional co-workers to me."

"If you're trying to ask me something, Sam, just come right out and ask. Don't play these stupid little games."

"What's the deal with you and Emma Maxwell?" Sam asked. "And I want the truth."

Flack sighed.

"Did you guys date? Was it a serious thing?"

"No and no." he told her. "Nothing like that."

Sam leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for an explanation.

"Does it really matter?" Flack asked. "She was hired to be my partner."

"How long have you been keeping that little secret away from me?"

"It wasn't a secret. I was going to tell you and there never seemed to be a good time. I wasn't keeping anything from you.."

"How long?" Sam asked sternly.

"Almost a week." Flack admitted.

Sam snorted and shook her head and left the kitchen.

Flack followed her. "What's the big issue?" he asked. "You knew I was getting a partner. What does it matter who it is?"

"You're not telling me the entire truth." Sam said, heading into the bedroom.

Flack stood in the doorway, watching her yank the sheets down. It was her usual coping skill when she was frustrated or upset. To bury herself under the covers and demand to be alone. "What do you want from me, Samantha?" he asked.

"I want you to tell me what the deal is with you and her. Was she your girlfriend?"

"No. I never dated her."

"Well she seemed pretty hung up on you, Donnie. You want to change that answer?"

"I never dated her. She was never my girlfriend. She was just some girl that….." he searched for the right words. "We were friends. That's it. And this one night a whole bunch of us were out drinking and me and her ended up having sex."

"Don't you just hate that?" Sam asked sarcastically. "When it just happens and you forget to say no?"

"I didn't want to say no." Flack said. "I was all about sex then, Samantha. She was ready, willing and able and so was I. So we made a deal."

"A deal? What kind of deal?"

"We had a sex thing. You know, friends with benefits."

"You mean fuck buddies." she corrected.

"Whatever you want to call it."

Sam nodded, hands on her hips as she considered this piece of news. "So I'm just suppose to be okay with this? You being partners with some girl you were fucking?"

"I'm just working with her, Samantha. That's it. Nothing more."

"You've had something with her once. Why not again?"

"Because things are different now. I was single back then. I didn't have any responsibilities. It didn't matter what the hell I did. There was no one to hurt but myself. I have no interest in her or anything like that. I have you, Sam. I don't need anyone else. You're everything I need. Why would I throw that away for sex when I get the most incredible sex of my life from you?"

"Some men can't help it. It's in their nature to do that kind of thing. Want to have their cake and eat it too."

"Well I'm not like that. You're the only one I love. You're the one that shares my bed at night and who I wake up with in the morning. You're the one with the ring on your finger and my baby growing in your body. You're the one that I'm pledging my life and my love to. You own me, Sam. All of me. My heart and my soul. So don't stand here and tell me that you doubt how I feel about you."

"I don't doubt it, Don. I know you love me. But sometimes you make it so hard for me to love you back."

He frowned. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"The way you get with me. The way you're so possessive and so insanely jealous. You assume just because a guy looks at me that you need to worry about me running off with him."

"I love you, Sam. I don't want to loose you."

"But you're going to. If you keep this up, this jealousy and this possessiveness, you will loose me. You have the nerve to tell me I'm overreacting over this whole Max thing when you're ten times worse than I am. You follow me to a crime scene, you have Carmen and Adam spy on me and report back to you…"

"Because I'm worried about you and the baby and you insist on doing stupid, idiotic stuff that puts both of you at risk!" he yelled. "You honestly think I'd sit back and let that happen?"

"I am a grown woman, Don! I am not a child!"

"It's my job to protect you!"

"But you're not!" she argued. "You're possessing me! You're pushing me away! I am not your possession. I'm going to be your wife! I'm having your child and I deserve to be treated like an equal!"

"I do treat you like that."

"No. No you don't. You treat me like you own me. And when I try and treat you the same way you accuse me of suffocating you and tell me I'm clingy."

"Because you don't have a reason to feel jealous or threatened!" he reasoned.

"And neither do you! I love you. So much. But I can't live like this. Being controlled like this."

"I don't…."

"Let me finish. You need to hear this! I can't do this! Be in love with you as much as I am and have you treat me like I'm nothing but a damn piece of property. You might as well be telling me what to wear and who to talk to and where to go. Think about. The maternity clothes you bought me? You bought what you wanted me to wear. Not what I like."

"Well maybe because I think seeing as your becoming a mother, you need to cover yourself up more. Respect yourself instead of showing everything off."

"When have I ever been like that? I have never dressed like a slut! I show some skin. Big deal. And the only time I show anything of is when we're alone and you're the only one looking and I do it because it turns you on."

"Okay. So I'm an overly possessive, insanely jealous asshole." Flack concluded. "Is that what you want from me? To admit I? Fine. I don't know why I'm like this. Every woman I've ever been with, I could have given a fuck less about them and what they did. But I love you and I'm giving everything I have to you and I can't loose you!"

"You will!" she yelled back. "Don't you understand? By controlling me and having to have power over me you're only going to drive me away!"

"I don't want that." he said, shaking his head. "You know that."

"It's a form of abuse." Sam told him.

He stared at her in disbelief. "What!" he bellowed. "Abuse? Are you fucking kidding me? I don't abuse you! What your prick of a birth father did to you and what Zack did to you, that's abuse! I've never abused you! I give you everything, Samantha. When you need money I give it to you. When you want something, no matter what the cost, I buy it for you! When your crazy step father came to town the first time, I gave you a place to stay to avoid you sleeping on a park bench!"

"Am I suppose to thank you a million times a day for the rest of my life?" she asked. "You know I appreciate you and everything you've done for me! But this is where your power thing comes in. Holding stuff over my head like that? Don't you see how wrong that is?"

"That's not what I was doing. I wasn't holding anything over your head. I was just reminding you that…"

"I don't need to be reminded of things! I am not an idiot! I am not one of the dumb ass bimbos you're used to! I should have to feel because I let you do those things for me. You don't have a right to make me feel that way!"

Flack sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say to that.

"And it's not a question of you giving me those things." Sam continued angrily. "It's above all that!

"What are you talking about?"

"I need you to LOVE me!" she shouted. "Not try to protect me all the time. I need to make mistakes, I need to experience things on my own, please... trust me enough to know that I'll be alright!"

"I didn't think I was treating you bad, Sam." Flack's voice was quiet, her words sinking in. "I wouldn't hurt you. You know that. I'd never hurt you. I'm sorry that you took things the wrong way."

"I took things the wrong way? You react the wrong way all the time! Stop and think about what your doing and saying Don and you'll realize how wrong it is."

"So I'm the bad guy?" he asked incredulously. "I'm the reason why things are fucked up between us?"

"I never said that." Sam shook her head sadly. "We're not acting like a couple, Don. We need to be a team. Not just for us but for this baby. And so far, we've been acting like individuals. I know I've done some things you didn't agree with and I admit my problems in our relationship. I want us to make things work. Don't you?"

"Of course I do. You know that. But all this 'cause Max and I…."

"This isn't about you and Max! Fuck, Don! Have you listened to a word I've said? Or do you block out anything that you don't agree with?"

"Tell me what you want, Samantha. What we can do to fix all of this. What I can do to change. If it is what you say it us, abuse, then I want to change. I don't want to be that way. What can we do? Tell me."

"I want us to go to counselling." she told him.

He nearly laughed in her face. Held it back only because of how furious she looked. "What? Are you kidding me? Come on. Is it really that bad that we need therapy? A fucking shrink?"

"Couples therapy." she corrected. "I think we're both really overwhelmed about how fast things happened between us and a therapist could help us sort out our issues."

"A therapist. You're serious. Give me a break. We don't need a therapist."

"We do, Don." she insisted. "We really do."

"Tell you what. Seeing as you're the mental one out of us, you go to therapy."

Sam fought the irresistible urge to smack him across the face. Tears of fury pooled in her eyes. "You know what!" she shrieked. "Fuck you, Don! I don't need this shit from you or any fucking man!"

Sam went to the closet and yanked a hooded sweatshirt off its hanger and grabbed her purse and cell phone off the dresser. She made for the door.

Flack stepped in the path, hands on either side of the door frame, blocking her way. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Out. I need to get the hell out of here. You think you can talk to me like that and expect me to put up with it?"

"You're not going anywhere Samantha."

"I may have a lot of problems, but you said you accepted me no matter what."

"I do, baby. You know that. I'm sorry I said that. Don't walk out on me."

"Why do you say these things, Don?"

"I don't mean them. They just come out of my mouth. Before I even realized I said them."

"But why?"

"I don't know." he admitted honestly.

"We need help. We really do."

"But we love each other, Sam."

"Sometimes that isn't enough." she said. "We need to like each other and respect each other too. You're not the only one to blame for this. You're not a bad person, Don. And I love you. But I need to love myself, too. I need to realize that I could live without you and take care of this baby on my own if I had to. That I don't need to rely on you to make me happy and feel good about myself. And I need you to realize what you've been doing."

"I haven't been doing anything." he argued. "I work and I come home to you. Sometimes I loose my temper and say things I shouldn't. And yeah, I am possessive. But I just want to keep you safe."

"You're driving me away, Don. Why can't you see that?"

"All of this because of Max? All this freaking out over someone I used to sleep with long before you ever came into my life?"

Sam shook her head. "You still don't get it, do you. Why aren't you listening to me?"

"Maybe because it's nothing but a bunch of crap coming out of your mouth."

Sam glared up at him. "Get out of my way." she demanded.

"Samantha…"

"I mean it, Don. Get out of my way. Before your big mouth gets you into deeper hot water."

"I'm not letting you just walk out on me, Samantha."

"Would you please just get out of the way?" she practically begged. "Please! I need some time alone. Give that to me. Please. I love you but I can't put myself or the baby, our baby, through this."

"Are you coming back?" he asked, masking the fear in his voice. The fear that she was walking out on him for good.

"I need time to think." she replied. "And so do you. Please. Let me go."

Flack sighed heavily and stepped aside, his hands raised in surrender. He stood in the hallway outside the bedroom, watching helplessly as she hurried away from him. He felt hurt by her words. Angry at her and himself. And ashamed that he'd treated her so badly.

He heard the front door open and then slam shut. Leaving the apartment in utter silence. He shook with rage. Tears of fury burned his eyes. In a sudden burst of anger, he turned and landed a solid right to the wall next to him. His fist burying deep in the plaster.

He pulled his hand out of the wall and stared at it. His knuckles bleeding and immediately swelling. He felt no pain. Just anger and shame. He headed down the hall and into the kitchen, wrapping the dish rag around his injured hand and then tossing open the cupboards above the stove.

He grabbed an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels and tore off the cap, tossing it into the sink with a clatter. He contemplated getting a glass and some ice, then thought fuck it and took a swig right from the bottle.

Then he sat down at the kitchen table with his first and greatest weakness clutched in his hand and waited.

* * *

Speed had just settled in on the couch with a bottle of beer and that day's New York Times when a knock came to the apartment door. Carmen's apartment door. He often wondered why they kept two places when he was there ninety-nine percent of the time and his place sat empty and his belongings collecting dust. They planned on getting a place of their own shortly before the wedding and were trying to re-do their finances in hopes of purchasing a condo or a little house of their own in one of the suburbs. Manhattan was just way too expensive even with their combined salaries. And if they decided to try for kids…..

It was the first time in his life that Speed ever seriously considered being a father. Before Carmen, the thought of helping bring a kid into such a fucked up world was out of the question. He realized now it was because he'd never been with the right woman. One he'd sacrifice his fiercely independent personality for. One that he'd make such a profound, unselfish commitment too. He'd never even felt that for Calleigh and he'd considered marrying her. He knew know it wasn't out of love, it was out of the fear of being alone for the rest of his life.

Carmen had come into his life suddenly and forcefully. And he loved her with every fibre of his being.

The knocking was loud and insisted. Speed sat the bottle of beer down on the coffee table and the paper on the couch and headed out of the living room and into the small foyer to answer the door. Surprised to find Samantha Ross standing there with a tear streaked face.

"Uh…..hi." Sam said, uncomfortable at being greeted by Tim Speedle in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

"Hey." Speed said in return and stuck his head out the door, glancing up and down the hallway. "Where's Flack?"

"Home. Is Carmen here?"

"She left about a half hour ago. She got called out."

"Shit…..I forgot she was on call the last two days. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't. What's going on? Anything I can help with?"

"Not really. Thanks though. I should go. Maybe my brother is home."

"He's like twenty minutes from here. And how'd you get here in the first place?"

"I took the subway."

"Station is two blocks away. You take a cab from there?"

"I walked."

"At ten at night? A pregnant woman, walking alone in New York City at ten at night. You're insane."

"I have enough name calling for one night." she informed him and turned on her heel and walked away.

What the hell was that all about? Speed thought. He stepped out of the apartment. "Sam! Hold up!" he called to her. "I didn't mean that in a derogatory way. I just didn't think it was smart you taking the subway and then walking. I'm sorry."

She stopped just shy of the elevator and looked back at him.

"I can tell your upset. I know I'm not Carmen and things haven't been the same between you and I since…." he stopped himself from going any further on that subject. "I'm a pretty good listener, Sam. You want to talk, here I am."

"You mean that?" she asked skeptically.

Speed nodded.

She came back down the hallway and he held the door open, letting her pass through and into the kitchen before shutting the door and locking it behind them.

"At least you apologize when you say things like that." Sam commented.

"Why wouldn't I? It was a dumb thing to say."

"Some people don't see it that way." she huffed.

He grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box on top of the fridge and handed them to her. "You want anything to drink? I can make you a tea? We got bottled water, juice. You name it."

"Water is fine. Do you have any Tylenol? I have a splitting head ache."

He got her a water from the fridge and uncapped it for her, then took a bottle of Tylenol from one of the cupboards and got out two tablets. "So?" he asked, holding out his hand. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Don and I got into a huge fight." Sam replied, taking the tablets and swallowing them with a huge sip of water. "I walked out."

"For good?"

She tilted her head sideways and regarded Speed with an arched eyebrow. "What made you ask that?"

"You guys have fought before and you've always stuck around. What's so different this time?"

"It was a nasty fight. Way nastier the other ones we've had. I told him I thought we needed counselling."

"Worst words to ever say to a man." Speed declared. "What did he say?"

"He refused to go. I expected it."

"What started all this off?"

"His new partner."

"Girl that was in the lab earlier today?"

Sam nodded.

"Lots of men work with female partners. No reason to get all bent out of shape with him."

"How many of those guys work with their former fuck buddy?" Sam asked.

"Oh." Speed replied. He had no idea what else to say. He motioned for her to follow him into the living room. He sat down on the couch and took a swig of his beer.

"Guess him and this Max girl had a thing before I came along." Sam explained, taking a seat in the love seat across from him. "Now they're going to be working together."

"And you're pissed." Speed concluded.

"Wouldn't you be? If Carmen's ex suddenly showed up and she'd be around him all the time?"

"I wouldn't like the idea. But I'd trust her enough to know nothing would happen. And you need to trust Flack to do the right thing. He knows right from wrong, Samantha. And in his defence, he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his relationship with you. Cut him some slack on this. Trust him and how much he loves you."

"It's not him I don't trust, Tim. It's her."

"Sam, he's a big boy. He knows how to say no. And if I didn't think you could trust him, I'd tell you and you know that."

She nodded and sipped her water. "Can I get your honest opinion?" she asked.

"Do I ever give anything but?" Speed retorted.

"True."

"Do you think the way Don is is abusive?"

"How do you mean? He's not smacking you around or anything behind closed doors or anything is he?"

"No. He'd never hit me. I mean the way he acts with me. The jealousy and the possessive and the way he has to control things. Do you find the abusive?"

"Do you?"

Sam sighed and nodded. "He doesn't mean it, Tim. He doesn't even realize he's doing it. He's got a good heart and I know he loves me and he really thinks he's trying to protect me and the baby. But sometimes, when he gets that, I feel like I can't breathe. That I need to just escape. Does any of this make sense?"

Speed nodded and sipped his beer. "I think it's borderline. It could go either way. But I'm not gonna sit here and pass judgement on the guy. It's not my place to do that. What I can do is give you some advice. Instead of running away from the problem, talk to him and tell him how you feel."

"I did. And it made things even worse."

"No offense, Mouse, but I know what you get like when you hear something you don't like. I mean talking to him calmly and rationally. You accuse him of anything or get nasty, he's just going to be like that right back. And by the state your in, my guess is that things did get nasty both ways."

"Unfortunately." Sam sighed.

"For what it's worth, I'd be the same way with Carmen that Flack is with you if I knew she wouldn't kick my ass to the curb. You need to talk to him, Samantha. Go home instead of sitting here wallowing to me and tell him how you feel. Explain to him how you're feeling and how he'll loose you if he doesn't ease up a little. Be honest with him. And listen to him being honest with you even if it kills you inside to hear it."

Samantha sighed and stared down at the sparkling diamond that adorned her finger. After the mess with Zack, she never would have dreamed of taking that step of being engaged and becoming someones wife. But she'd been giving a second chance and she didn't want to throw it away that easily.

"What do you have to loose?" Speed asked. "You've all ready been through hell and back. If you can survive all that, dealing with Flack should seem like a cake walk."

She nodded in agreement. "And if it's not?" she asked.

"Then you fight with everything you have and let him know that you're not fucking around. Trust me, Sam. The sooner you deal with this, the better off you, Flack and that baby will be. Now's the time you two gotta come together. Stop all the bullshit. That baby needs you guys. Working together. Not tearing each other down. And you're both guilty of that."

"So many things I wish I could take back." she said quietly.

"Can't live your life on wishes." Speed told her. "Trust in him, Samantha. And in yourself. You guys will work this out and fifty years from now, sit back and laugh about how ridiculous it all was."

"If we get that far." Sam sighed.

"You will." Speed promised her. "First place you have to get to is home. To your husband. And work this shit out."

Sam nodded in agreement and stood up. "Thanks, Tim. Never thought we'd ever be talking about stuff like this. Or that you'd be dishing out such sound advice."

"I'm full of surprises." he said.

* * *

Flack was still sitting at the kitchen table when she arrived home shortly after eleven. He said nothing in greeting as he listened to the door open and shut, followed by the sound of the chain and dead bolt being closed up for the night. He was still reeling from the things she had said. For accusing him of being abusive. And was more angry at himself then her because the more he thought about the instances she laid out, the more he realized that she was right. He hadn't been treating her right. And she deserved to be treated right and so much more.

He was becoming his father. He'd sworn that would never happen and it was. He was pissed with himself for allowing that to happen. And for not seeing what he was doing earlier.

And at that moment, hearing her come in the door, he was overwhelmed with relief. She had come back. He hadn't been so sure that she would. And now he was determined to make sure she never walked out again.

Sam appeared in the doorway. She stood watching him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You came back." he said, not looking at her.

"Where you afraid I wouldn't?"

Flack nodded.

"Good." she said in the brutal honesty she was known for. "Maybe now you'll realize there's a problem and we need to fix it."

"I don't want to loose you, Samantha." he said quietly.

"Then me and you need to make this work, Don. Because as much as I love you and I don't want to walk away…."

"I understand." he cut her off. "I don't blame you for hating me sometimes. I hate myself most days so why shouldn't you?"

Sam sat her purse and cell phone on the counter and tossed her keys on top of the microwave. She walked into the kitchen and stood behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. And noticed the half empty bottle of JD in front of him and the ice pack on his hand.

"I don't hate you." she told him. "I just find you hard to deal with sometimes. And I know I'm not the easiest person to live with either. We're both at fault. I'm not just blaming you."

"I think we're both fucked up." he declared.

"What happened to your hand?" she asked, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

"I put my fist through the wall by the bedroom. It's fine."

She reached across the table. "Let me see." she said.

"Sam….it's fine."

She grabbed his hand. Her fingertips were soft and loving on his swollen knuckles. She bent and pressed a kiss to each one.

He watched her intently, feeling so ashamed that he'd ever treated her so badly.

She noticed him watching her and smiled and held his hand in both of hers.

"Tell me we're going to be okay, Sam." he nearly pleaded.

"I don't know, Don. I hope so. I want us to be. " she looked at the bottle of JD. "You've had a lot to drink."

He shrugged and took a swig of the liquor. "Not that much." he said.

"You always do that when you get upset. Turn to the bottle."

"Don't start. Please don't start. I don't have a drinking problem. I just…" he sighed and closed his eyes briefly, searching for the words. "I need it to cope sometimes. Okay?"

Sam sighed. "You shouldn't be drinking with all the meds your taking."

"I know. Okay? I know. Where did you go?"

"Carmen's." Sam answered. "I needed to talk to someone I trusted."

"And did you talk to her?"

Sam nodded.

"That's weird." Flack said, taking another swallow of JD. "'Cause I called Carmen's cell to see if you were with her and she told me she wasn't even at home. That she had gotten called into work."

Sam stared hard at him. An unimpressed look on her face. "Checking up on me now too?" she asked.

"Don't lie to me ever again, Samantha." he warned, voice and eyes dead serious.

"What? So now you're going to talk to me like some perp in interrogation? This is bullshit." she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. "I didn't come back here to fight with you all over again."

"Where were you?" Flack asked, catching her by the wrist as she went to step past him. Holding her securely where she was with a tight grip.

"I went to Carmen's. I'm not lying about that. But she wasn't there so I just hung out with Tim for a little while." Sam attempted to pull away from him but he tightened his grip even more.

"Just hung out?" Flack asked, an eyebrow arched.

"We talked. He gave me some advice. Convinced me to come home." Sam tried to pry his fingers away from her wrist to no avail. He was just too strong. "Do you mind?" she asked, looking down at his hand around her slender wrist.

"And?" he asked.

"And what? There's no and. That's it. We talked."

"I'm suppose to believe that?"

"Yeah. You are. You're drunk, Don. And if I were you, I'd like go of my wrist before you end up with a busted nose to go with your busted hand."

"You cheating on me?" he asked.

"What!? Are you insane as well as drunk! Let go of me! You're hurting me!"

"Answer the question!"

"I am not cheating on you! I'm pregnant for Christ sakes! I wouldn't cheat on you! Now let me go! You're seriously hurting me."

He released his grip on her. "But you would cheat on me if you weren't pregnant?"

"No. I wouldn't." she rubbed at her tender wrist. "So don't ever accuse me of it again! I'm going to bed. It's been a long day and even longer night. You can either sit here and get even more shit faced or join me. It's up to you."

He grabbed her by the wrist again and pulled her to him, so that she was standing between his legs. He let go of her wrist and laid his hands lightly on her hips.

"I'm sorry, Samantha. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't mean to say those things to you or abuse you in any way. I just want to protect you and the baby. Love you. I didn' realize I was doing anything wrong. I'm not a bad person."

"I know. And I know you didn't mean it. But you need to realize what you're doing and acknowledge it. We both need to realize what we're both doing. Or this isn't going to work."

"Don't say that. I want this to work."

Sam cradled his face in her hands. "We need help, Don. We need to talk to someone."

"You really think we need a therapist? Counselling? Is it really that bad? Can't we just talk things out and work them out on our own? Why do we need a stranger to get involved?"

"It doesn't hurt to at least try. Even if we just go for one session to see if we're comfortable with the idea of getting professional help."

"I can't….my head feels like it's going to explode."

"You've had too much to drink."

He nodded in agreement. "I need time to think. About this therapist thing. When I'm sober. Can you give me that?"

Sam kissed him softly. "I think we should go to bed. It's been a long crappy day. We'll see how we both feel in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." he agreed and kissed her. Long and soft. His hand slipping from her hips and up her back under her shirt. He felt her body tremble and then tense up when his finger tips trailed down her spine and then back up again.

She pulled away when his lips found her neck. "We should go to bed." she said "I'm tired. And you're drunk."

"I am not drunk." he argued.

"Even if you weren't, this can't happen tonight and you know that."

"Why not? Because we had a fight? Isn't making up the best part?"

"We use sex against each other. We use it to get what we want and have power and control over each other And when we do that it becomes impersonal."

"That's where you're wrong. I don't use it against you. I use it to make you feel good and show you I love you. And you know what's impersonal? You calling it sex all the time. That's impersonal. We're not just two people that are fucking each other. We're getting married and having a baby. We love each other. Sometimes, yeah,it's quick and straight to the point and that's sex. Other times it's slow and intense. That's making love. And when you call it sex all the time, that's impersonal."

"What does it matter what it's called? Same end result."

"It's not the end result that matters most." he said. "It's what happens leading up to it."

Sam frowned and cast a glance over her shoulder at the bottle of JD. "What the hell is in that stuff?" she asked.

"For some reason I make more sense when I'm drinking."

"I've noticed. And I'm sorry I'm like this. It's my weakness, Sam. I need help. Drinking like this… I need help."

"What you need is sleep. And I'm sorry for making you feel bad by saying sex all the time. I didn't realize it offended you. It's just….I never had someone be so attentive and caring in bed. I'm used to Zack and…."

"You don't have to say anything else, Sam. I'm not Zack. I'm far from being Zack. I may be a prick sometimes, but I'd never hurt you like he did."

"I know, Don." she presed a kiss to his forehead. "And you know what else I know? You talk a lot of BS when you're drunk. And you get overly emotional and weepy and you need to just lie down and sleep it off. Okay? You'll feel a hell of a lot better if you get some sleep."

"All right." he nodded in agreement. "You're right. I need some sleep. I need to lie down. My head is going to explode."

Sam extracated herself from the hold he had on her hips and watched as he stood slowly, swaying a little.

"I can't carry you, Don." she said. "So you either make it on your own or you sleep here."

"I'll be fine." he assured her, but put a hand on her shoulder to be on the safe side.

"You are way too damn heavy." Sam complained, putting her arm around him, her hand on his back.

"But not fat." he informed her.

"I've never called you fat. I've said your heavy."

"Well I wouldn't be heavy to you if you weren't the size of a ten year old." Flack said.

"Watch it or I'll drop you on your ass and leave you in the middle of the floor."

"I love you, baby." he declared, pressing a sloppy kiss to the top of her head. "I don't deserve you. I don't know why you put up with me. But I love you. Soooo much."

"I love you, too." she said. "Can you walk a bit faster? You're like dead weight."

"You know what we should do?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"Go in the bedroom and fuck."

She smirked. "Don, you wouldn't be able to get it up with a stiff breeze in the room."

"Wanna bet?" he asked.

"Just be quiet and keep walking."

"You know what?"

"What now?"

"I need to sit down. Before I puke."

Sam steered him in the direction of the living room and then let him fall heavily onto the couch. She ran for the bathroom to grab the waste basket. She yanked out the plastic bag of trash and took just the empty container out into the living room in case he did need to throw up.

"Don, are you ….." she stopped in mid sentence as she entered the living room and found him face down on the couch, passed out cold. "Going to be okay?" she finished, sighing heavily and setting the trash can on the floor beside the couch.

She grabbed the throw off the back of the couch and covered him with it. She ran a hand over his hair and leaned over him to kiss the top of his head softly.

"We'll be okay." she whispered, stroking his hair. "We just have to stick together."

He mumbled something in his sleep. Rolled over onto his side, facing the back of the couch.

Sam tucked the throw around him and went and shut off the lamp on the nearby end table. At least I have the entire bed to myself, she thought wryly and headed out of the room.

"Sam." Flack called softly to her.

"There's a bucket beside you if you're going to be sick." she said.

"I wasn't going to…..we're a team, Sam. Me and you. I'll always stick by you. No matter what."

She smiled. "Go to sleep, Don."

"No matter what." he vowed. "One day I'll prove it to you."

"I'll be waiting." she said and headed for the bedroom.

**Big thanks to all of you who take the time to read and review. Today I am plugging:**

**Madison Bellows: Playing with Fire (based on the television show Rescue Me and a great read whether you're a fan of the show or not), Starting Fires (over on Fiction Press) and Positive (here in NY land)**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes and Recovery**

**Laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble**

**There are so many, many others. Check out my fav stories and authors over on my profile. Or better yet, see the end of some of my previous chapters.**

**Mauveine: **_Flack is such a man. LOL. Give me a list of rules and cough up the keys and don't get you're a# out of bed. Daria was fun to write. Especially that part between her and Sam. My nephew talks just like that! He would be the worst witness to a crime. He's too distracted by other things. And better late than never dah-ling!_

**Soccer: **_Thanks for the review. Sam learns that while the truth is always best, it's damn painful to hear it._

**Blue: **_I was so nervous writing Max. I am glad that you love it. Thanks for tossing her my way._

**Laplandgurl: **_Sam's having a hell of a time. Some have it free and easy, others suffer. Could you just imagine Mac's face with her cursing? LOL. There's a lot of things that Sam and Flack need to work on. But they'll be okay._

**Brrtmclv: **_I hope the start to the Max/Sam/Flack issue was good for you. More to come._

**Hope4sall: **_How did the fight turn out do you think? She has a reason to be worried. They both do._

**ImaSupernaturalCSI: **_Her name was originally Erica and had to be changed. LOL. I had a momentary brain fart at that moment and put the wrong name._

**Forest Angel: **_Yeah….real life sucks. Big time._

**Madison: **_Sam and Daria were a blast to write. My nephew asks everyone what grade they are in. Whether they're 13 or 83. LOL._


	70. Learning to Live Again

**Learning to live again**

All around me are familiar faces  
Worn out places, worn out faces  
Bright and early for the daily races  
Going nowhere, going nowhere  
Their tears are filling up their glasses  
No expression, no expression  
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow  
No tomorrow, no tomorrow  
-Mad World, Gary Jules

* * *

Flack woke up with a splitting head ache. The pounding echoed in his ears. The acrid taste of bile was cemented into his mouth. Early morning sun spilled through the partially opened curtains on the picture window across the room. Sending rays of light dancing over the bed and into his face. Even the slightest bit of light burned into his eyes and made the head ache worse. He groaned noisily and rolled over onto his side, blindly reaching for the warm, welcoming body alongside of him. Ready to offer up an apology for being so out of it and somehow finding his way home safely.

Only when his hand brushed up against cold empty sheets, his eyes snapped open and he stared for a long time at that untouched pillow next to his head. Despite the alcohol still lingering in his system, reality hit him hard and fast. He was alone. There was no one sharing his bed with him anymore. No sleepy smiles shared between them and lazy, soft kisses and those quiet, long moments of holding each other or making slow, tender love when the rest of the house was still asleep. He'd spent a decade of his life sharing his bed with the same woman. Waking up to her beautiful face and watching her sleep in the late night hours. And it was then that he realized how much he was going to miss the simple things. The way her hair brushed up against him, the soft scene of her bath wash that lingered on her body, the gentle way she'd kiss his forehead and whisper 'I love you, Donnie' when she thought he was asleep.

Tears spilled hot and free down his cheeks and reached out and pulled Sam's pillow into him. He buried his face into it, breathing in the last of her smell that clung to the cotton fabric. He couldn't let go of her. He didn't think he ever would. He didn't think the ache in his chest would ever dissipate. Or if he'd ever feel whole again. He would never forget her. Or love anyone the way that he loved her.

And he didn't want to. No one could ever take her place in his life. And it would be unfair to any woman to have to compete with Samantha. To know that he'd never love them in that all consuming way or be able to give himself completely to them. He knew that he'd never marry again. It was a one time deal and he'd been married to the most amazing woman in the world who had given him four incredible kids and years of happiness. All the pain and the anguish had been worth it in the end. He had loved her more and more everyday and had grown along with her in their life.

I miss you, he thought. I can't let you go. I don't want to let you go. Give me some strength to get through this.

"Daddy?" Daniel whispered from the side of the bed, shaking Flack's arm lightly. "Daddy? What's wrong, daddy?"

Flack raised his head from the pillow and looked into the innocent face of his seven year old son. Clutching that old stuffed cat under his arm.

"You miss mommy, don't you daddy."

It was more of a statement than a question.

Flack nodded.

Daniel reached out, and with a gentle hand, brushed his father's tears off of one cheek, and then another.

"It's okay, daddy." he whispered. "Mommy understands."

Flack choked up but held back another flood of tears for the sake of his son. He raised his head and checked the bedside clock. 6:17.

"What are you doing up, Daniel?" he asked.

"It's time to cuddle, daddy." he replied cheerfully and clambered up onto the bed. "Can I use mommy's pillow?"

Flack nodded and shifted over in the bed to give Daniel some room. This was a routine for Daniel. Getting up disgustingly early and creeping into the room to cuddle with whoever was in the bed. Sometimes it was both mommy and daddy. Most of the times it was just mommy. She'd been on straight days since Kieran came along so that her schedule corresponded with day care hours and eventually school. Mac had been amazing when it came to accommodating their growing family.

Daniel tucked himself into Flack's chest and snuggled his head into the crook of Flack's arm. "Daddy?" he asked.

"Mm-hm."

"Did you love mommy?" Daniel reached out to play with the chain around his father's neck.

"I love your mommy very much." Flack told him.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you love mommy?"

"Because she's beautiful and smart and makes me happy. Because she gave me you and your brothers and your sister. And because she loves me, too."

Daniel smiled, pleased with that answer. He yawned noisily. "Daddy?" he asked.

Flack sighed. "Yes?" he replied.

"I love you."

Flack smiled and pressed a kiss to his son's head. "I love you, too. Let's just lie here for a bit, okay?"

"Okay. Just 'til six thirty though. Then breakfast."

* * *

Daniel had been getting up every morning between six and six thirty since the day of his third birthday. It was around the same time when Flack and Sam had realized that there was something not quite right with their son. The first hint of 'trouble' came when he didn't speak an intelligible word until well after his second birthday. They'd been at Christmas Eve Mass when all of a sudden, Daniel stood up on the pew and screamed 'dammit, dammit, dammit!' at the top of his lungs when he dropped the money for the collection plate on the floor. The entire family had been embarrassed and Flack had to take his son to the back of the church when a simple scolding threw Daniel into a rage.

The speech had been a concern for some time. Both Kieran and Daniel could say a multitude of single words by the time they were sixteen months and both could speak simple, full sentences shortly after they turned two. Even Hawkes, as smart as he was, had been impressed by the communication skills of kids so young. Thank God they have their mother's brains, Danny always said.

Yet while his brothers were on track with kids their age, Daniel lagged behind. He had rarely cried as an infant and didn't start cooing until his fourth month. He never babbled ma-ma or da-da until well past his first birthday. Hawkes had mentioned to them it could be a hearing problem and made some calls and got them in to have an audiology assessment done on Daniel. All the tests had come back normal. Stumped, they expressed concern -yet again- to the pediatrician, only to be told that it wasn't uncommon for one twin to be behind. And in Daniel's case, he'd had a traumatic start to his life having the cord wrapped around his neck a few times. He had been completely blue when he was delivered and had to be resuscitated. The oxygen depletion could have caused him to be a bit slower. Until an MRI showed no loss of function whatsoever.

Despite his slow start, Daniel had come along extremely well. Intellectually he was smarter than the average seven year old. Hell, he was smarter than most pre-teens. He seemed like a damn genius with some of the things he could remember and the conversations he could carry on. The morning of his third birthday, Daniel woke up at quarter after six in the morning and announced he wanted breakfast. Then threw a massive tantrum when Sam told him it was too early for breakfast and to come and lie with her for a little while until it was time to get up. A tantrum that included biting and kicking and punching on Daniel's part and tears for both him and his mother.

Flack had been on nights and was getting ready to pull a double when Sam called him in a state saying Daniel was out of control and she needed him to come home and 'do something about your son!'. Flack had been pissed off the entire drive home. Angry that she'd yanked him out of work to handle an unruly three year old. How bad could it be?

He walked in the house and found a terrified Kieran and Mackenzie barricaded in their rooms and Sam sitting in the middle of the hallway, Daniel in her lap, clutched tightly to her as she rocked back and forth, tears streaming down both their flushed faces. Daniel was screaming at the top of his lungs. Sam's clothes were torn and she was covered in bruises, welts and bites.

A trip to the ER and a doze of sedatives were followed by an assessment with a child psychologist who suggested it was ADHD and violent, aggressive tendancies and then offered up a prescription for Ritalin. A three year old on drugs? No fucking way, Flack had said. The specialist had looked at him and asked him if there was violence and aggression displayed at home. Which only infuriated Flack even more. Two days later, child protective services showed up at the house with a warrant to submit Daniel to a physical exam for evidence of abuse. In the end, CPS apologized for having to do it and admitted it was a waste of time. Daniel had never been abused a day in his life and he was happy and healthy. As were the other two boys. And they lived in a clean, safe and loving home.

The OCD first began to rear its ugly head when Daniel started school. The teacher was the first to point it out. How he would spend an unbelievable amount of time washing his hands and would fight with the teacher's helper if she tried to stop him. There were other little things: having to hang his coat on the same hook in his cubby hole, having to arrange his lunch a certain way and then eating it in a certain order. He spent more time organizing and setting up toys than he did playing with the other kids. Then Sam (who spent most of the time with the kids, something that Flack was somewhat ashamed of) began to notice things at home as well. The hand and face washing. The repetitive teeth brushing (to the point his gums bleed and the enamel began to wear off). The way he kept his room in immaculate condition and his toys, books and movies organized. And how he'd freak out on anyone who upset his system.

Then he began sorting and arranging his food on his plate at meals. He had to have an even amount of peas, all the same size or he would refuse to eat. He couldn't stand it if one food touched the other. Sam remained her ever patient, calm self, catering to every little complaint the child had and rushing to remedy the situation. Flack however quickly lost his patience with Daniel. Especially with the out of control, Exorcist style temper tantrums. And no amount of yelling or time outs and on the rare occasion, spankings, would stop Daniel from being the way he was. It either made things worse or the kid laughed at you. Whereas the other two boys were scared of daddy's yelling and Sam often threatened them when they were bad (which was a lot) 'Wait until I call you father and tell him what you two did!'. It was enough to have Kieran and Mackenzie halt - temporarily at least- what they were doing.

Flack hated to admit it, but there'd been a time after one of Daniel's infamous freak outs in the middle of the precinct, that he actually began to hate his own child. And that he'd think 'If you weren't that bastard Tim Speedle's you wouldn't be this way'. It shamed him to think he'd ever thought that. But at that point and time, his nerves were shot and his patience depleted.

"Don't you think you're part of the problem?" he'd snapped at Sam one night after she came back to their bed after she'd sat up with Daniel for nearly two hours trying to calm him after a nightmare.

"What's that suppose to mean?" she'd retorted.

"Everything is for that kid. I might as well not even have a wife anymore. I miss having my wife."

"Go to sleep, Don." she said, switching out the lamp and turning her back on him.

"You spoil him, Sam. You kiss his ass every time he gets upset. Spank his ass instead when he acts up. He's not a baby. He's a spoiled rotten little brat who knows you have no control over him. It's why he is the way he is."

"Give me a fucking break." she snorted. "Ever thought that maybe you're the problem? You're never around and these kids forget they even have a father because they never see you."

That comment had triggered a screaming match that woke everyone in the house. The next day, Flack went into work and asked for three weeks off to spend some time with his kids. They went camping for a week and the hung around the house the rest of the time. And he spent time with his wife, who was beginning to feel neglected and taken advantage of, like she was nothing more than a cleaner and cook and occasional sex partner.

They'd gotten Adam and Gus to stay with the boys for three nights and they went away to a hotel in Manhattan and got to know each other all over again. In every sense of the word. The sex had always been amazing between them. No two times seemed the same. But those three nights had honestly been the most incredible sex they'd ever had.

Two months later, she was pregnant with Mikayla. The thought of having Daniel around a newborn was terrifying. He was unpredictable when he got in his moods. It wasn't until Hawkes had suggested medication that Sam and Flack had agreed to it. They both respected him and his opinion and knew he'd never recommend anything that would harm his 'nephew'. Daniel became a happier, more relaxed kid mood wise. But his routines and OCD continued.

* * *

Which was why, at six thirty in the morning, despite his nasty hangover, Flack found himself supervising Daniel as the seven year old brushed his teeth. Daniel always brushed his teeth before breakfast. But had t be watched to avoid him going over board.

"Okay, daddy." he said and jumped down from his step stool. "I'm hungry."

Whether or not Daniel was actually hungry that early in the morning or if he'd just gotten so into a routine that he went along with it, remained a mystery. But every morning he had to eat the same thing: a bowl of Frosted Flakes with just the right amount of milk and one piece of toast with just the right amount of peanut butter. He had to have the same bowl and the same cup for his juice. And he had to sit in the same seat. Mackenzie and Kieran would torment him by sitting in his chair or using his bowl and cup and pandemonium would erupt in the Flack house at supper time.

"Not that one, daddy." Daniel scolded when he spied his father getting ready to pour apple juice in the wrong plastic cup. "The purple one, remember?"

Flack nodded, put the green cup back in the cupboard and got down the purple one.

"Remember, daddy." Daniel said in all seriousness. "Only half full. Okay?"

"Okay." Flack agreed and did as he was told.

He sat Daniel's breakfast on the table and made himself a coffee and went to grab the paper from the front porch. The unmarked squad with the tinted windows was still parked across the street. Flack was tempted to go over and knock on the driver's side window and tell whoever was on duty that day to just piss off and leave them alone. Instead, he just shook his head in disdain and went back inside.

He joined Daniel at the table. The little boy was on his knees on his chair, eating quietly.

"Daddy?" he asked, swirling his cereal around with his spoon.

"What, buddy?"

"What if mommy wants to come home? Is she allowed?"

"Daniel, I've told you this a million times. Mommy can't come home. Okay? Where mommy is, she can't leave. I want her to, but she can't. It's her home now. Understand?"

"What was wrong with our house?" he asked.

"Nothing. But something bad happened to her and she had to go to heaven. She can't come back. Okay?"

"No, daddy. It's not okay." Daniel said sadly and was contemplative for several long minutes. "If she gets hungry can we send her some food?" he asked.

"There's food in heaven." Flack assured him.

"What if they don't have oreos? Mommy loves oreos. Can we send her some?"

Flack sighed. "Daniel, we can't. They have everything she wants. Trust me."

"Can I write her a letter? And draw her a picture?"

Flack didn't see the harm in that. Whatever helped the kid cope. "Sure." he said.

"And you'll mail it to her?" Daniel's face brightened.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Flack said. "Now eat your breakfast."

Daniel happily went back to his eating. Flack sipped his coffee and flipped open the paper. His heart pounded in his chest when his eyes fell on the bold, black lettering of a headline on the third page.

**NYPD Internal Affairs Investigating Death of Detective**

There was a small picture of Samantha below.

**The NYPD Internal Affairs Bureau is continuing their investigation into the shooting of a crime scene investigator after the head of the New York City Crime Lab, Detective Stella Bonasera-Taylor admitted in her initial interview that Detective Sargent Samantha Flack went into an unsecured crime scene alone despite repeated suggestions that she wait for assistance. It was not the first time such an incident took place. In 2008 at another unsecured crime scene……**

Flack closed the paper and squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the threat of tears. You fucking bitch, Stella, he fumed silently. He never thought he'd ever think that way about Stella. Not after everything they'd been through on the job together. But the woman was treading on thin ice talking shit about his wife.

"What's a matter, daddy?" Daniel asked, concern in his voice.

Flack's eyes snapped open. "Nothing, buddy." he assured his son with a gentle smile. Reaching out, he ran a hand over Daniel's head. "I'm fine. I just have a bad head ache. Say, you feel like going on a drive today? Maybe go to mommy's work and see Auntie Stella and Auntie Alexis?"

"Uncle Peanut and Uncle Danny, too?" Daniel asked excitedly.

"If they're there. Sound like fun? We can go and get some McDonald's and some ice cream?"

"Just me and you?"

Flack nodded. "Just me and you."

Daniel beamed. "Sounds like fun, daddy." he said.

* * *

It may be a fun visit for a seven year old, Flack thought. But it's not going to be much fun for Stella.

"Uncle Tim!" Mackenzie bellowed, jumping up and down on the mattress of the pull out couch. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

Speed groaned noisily and cracked open an eye, looking up at the boisterous seven year old above him. Sunlight streamed through the window of the first floor den. It made his head ache seem a hundred times worse than what it was. And the noise. The noise was horrific. Between Mackenzie screaming his name and wake up over and over again and Daniel yanking and shaking his arm and the sound of a baby alternating between crying and babbling nearby, it was enough to shatter Speed's ear drums.

"Wake up!" Daniel chimed in. "It's breakfast time! Daddy made pancakes!"

"What time is it?" Speed mumbled.

"It's eight o'clock." Mackenzie told him.

Speed groaned again. "Too early to get out of bed. Why don't you guys go watch t.v. or something."

"Daddy said to wake you up." Daniel said. "Come on, Uncle Tim. Wake up."

"You sick or something?" Mackenzie asked.

"Just a little." Speed replied with a sigh.

"Gotta get up!" Mackenzie commended jumping up and down once again. "Time to eat! You have to eat, Uncle Tim!"

"Not hungry." Speed grumbled and tried to yank his arm away from surprisingly strong seven year old hands.

"BREAKFAST!" Kieran yelled from the doorway. "GET OUT HERE YOU BRATS!"

The sound of Kieran yelling pierced through Speed's skull and rocked his brain. It was just to much to take after too much booze and too little sleep. He managed to get out of Daniel's grasp and rolled over onto his stomach and placed a pillow over his head. The sheets below smelled like Carmen. He loved her smell and had missed it for so long. It made him smile to himself and his heart feel complete for the first time in a long while.

"We're not brats!" Mackenzie argued. "You're a bully, Kieran!"

Kieran strode into the room, grabbed his brother by the back of the shirt and yanked him off the pull out. Mackenzie landed awkwardly on his feet, his knees buckling and his forehead colliding with the frame of the couch. Most kids would bawl at something like that, but Mackenzie got up and glared at his older brother and tackled him backwards onto the floor. Then sat on his chest and began trying to pummel him with his fists.

Speed rolled over onto his back and sat up to see what was going on. There was the two kids on the floor, Mackenzie wailing on his older brother and Kieran laughing hysterically about it.

What the hell is wrong with these kids? Speed thought. Although he was somewhat amused at the sight.

Daniel was standing over them, watching quietly with a huge smile on his face that indicated he was more than pleased with the thought of his older brother (and probably biggest tormentor) receiving a beating.

"Hey!" Carmen shouted as she appeared in the doorway, a plate of food in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. "Knock it off! Take it outside!"

The boys ignored her. Kieran got the upper hand and rolled over and pinned Mackenzie to the floor with a knee on either side of his torso, sitting directly on his little brother's chest and holding Mackenzie's arms over his head and secure to the floor by the wrists.

Now that's a move to use on perps, Speed thought. That kid is gonna be big and strong like his father and be kicking some major ass all over this city one day.

Carmen was not impressed. She slammed the plate and cup down on the nearby desk and stomped over to the boys, yanked Kieran off of his brother by the back his shirt and almost tossed him onto the carpet. Giving Mackenzie the opportunity, bump on the forehead and all, a chance to get away.

"Now both of you get out in the kitchen and eat your breakfast!" she yelled, pointing towards the door. "I don't want to hear another word out of either of you or even sit anywhere near each other! Got it?"

"But Auntie Carmen…." Mackenzie attempted to argue.

"Got it?" she repeated, in no mood for back talk. And those kids could back talk with the best of them.

Both Mackenzie and Kieran nodded and got to their feet and headed from the room. A slight collision in the doorway nearly started tempers flaring once again, until Flack appeared in the hallway and did little more than glare at them and point in the direction of the kitchen to get his message across.

"Daniel." he said in a serious tone.

"I didn't do anything, daddy." the little boy said.

"Daniel." he repeated and nodded his head sideways in the direction of the kitchen.

"Fine…fine." Daniel said with a heavy sigh and reluctantly left the room.

Carmen and Flack looked at each other, both shaking their heads.

"It's a freaking three ring circus." Carmen said.

"Welcome to my world." Flack grinned.

Carmen was happy to see that grin return to his face and his blue eyes regain some of their sparkle. Although she knew there'd be a lot of dark days ahead for Flack where it seemed to difficult to cope and a struggle to go on. He still had many tears to shed and his heart was shattered. But that grin was testament to the fact he was at least making an attempt to heal.

"Is it always like this in here?" Speed asked.

"Yes." Carmen replied honestly. "It's constant. Everyone in the neighbourhood knows the Flack kids and cringe when they see them coming."

"How do you do this every day?" Speed asked Flack in a mixture of admiration and pity.

Flack shrugged. "I'm a dad. It's what dads do."

"No wonder you're not insane by now." Speed said.

"It's the bane of having so many boys." Carmen reasoned.

"Mikayla doesn't stand a chance." Speed commented.

Flack laughed. "You kidding me? She yells louder and pulls hair harder than the three of them put together. She's trouble. Just like…."

He stopped. He just couldn't bring himself to say her name.

Carmen smiled softly and laid her hand on his shoulder. "You're okay, Flack." she told him. "You're going to be okay."

He bit his lip to fight back the emotion. "When?" he asked quietly. "When am I going to be okay?"

"It could take a long time." Carmen responded. "But one day, Don, I promise you, you'll wake up and you won't hurt so bad anymore."

He nodded and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

There was a loud crash from down the hall, followed by Mikayla screaming loud enough to wake the dead.

"Daddy!" Mackenzie called. "Mikayla dumped her bowl all over the place!"

"It's a big ass mess!" Daniel added.

Flack smirked, and remembered the time that Daniel was four and Sam told him it was time to give up playing in favor of a bath. And he'd looked at her in all seriousness and said "Aww fuck mommy." Sam had just stood there, stuck between laughing and walloping the kid's ass. Flack had just laughed and had gotten the dirtiest 'don't encourage him' look Sam could muster up. The three boys had long ago mastered profanity and got their mouths washed out numerous times. It's what happened being around so many cops.

"Daddy!" Mackenzie bellowed. "She's finger painting on the wall with syrup!"

Flack sighed and gave Carmen and Speed a small smile before leaving the room.

His kids needed him.

But not as much as he needed them.

* * *

Max flipped her cell phone closed with a heavy sigh. Terminal Two in Toronto's Pearson International Airport was a hub of activity. Passengers rushing to different boarding gates to catch their flights, tearful loved ones waving farewell and others waiting impatiently and excitedly for those coming in to visit. Max was in no mood to join in the exuberance. Her flight back to New York had been delayed by heavy fog over Toronto for the last two hours and she was tired and cranky from all the noise in the airport and the hellish four weeks she had just somehow managed to survive.

Four days before Samantha Flack had been brutally gunned down in that cold, empty warehouse, Max's younger brother Micheal, who'd lived almost seventeen of his thirty-six years in a long term care facility better suited to care for his low functioning autism and major anxiety disorders, had been killed in a freak accident while out with one of his care providers in the parking lot of the facility. The worker had been temporarily distracted and had only taken her eyes off of Michael for a brief moment. But that brief moment had given him enough opportunity to bolt away to 'make his break for it'. He was struck by a car backing out of a parking space, and died several hours later from massive brain trauma.

Mac had flown up with for emotional support. He'd become a father figure of sorts to her over the years of working with him and she valued his wisdom and the shoulder to cry on that he provided everyone close to him with. She'd missed him when he became commissioner. She was just thankful that her bonds with him and Stella had firm and all of the families spent holidays and special occasions together.

Mac had headed back to New York on the first flight possible when Gerrard had called him with the news that Stella, although fine, had been involved in a shooting on the job. And that one of the team members was critically injured. At that point, Samantha was still in surgery but not expected to pull through. Max had been so consumed with funeral arrangements and financial issues with her family that it wasn't until two days later that she called the Flack house and was told by Gus (who'd been staying with boys) that Sam was on life support and declared legally brain dead. And that Flack, a constant presence at he bedside, was in the midst of making the toughest choice of his life. A phone call from Mac two days after she'd talked to Stella had confirmed that Samantha had passed away.

Max felt guilty when she admitted to herself that she grieved harder and longer for the loss of her good friend than her own brother. She had Sam had had a rough start but that honest, blunt talk at a restaurant by the lab ten years ago had cleared the air between them and started off the beginnings of a beautiful friendship. With no family in New York, Max and Daria had spent many a holiday at the Flack house. Sam and Flack and those boys and eventually that angel Mikayla had become their family. And Max loved them all dearly.

Samantha Flack's death had left a gapping hole in her heart and a permanent emptiness throughout her entire body. She would miss her terribly. That girly little laugh and that smile that crinkle her nose and that Brooklyn accent. The often foul, sarcastic mouth that had you in stitches. Samantha was always fun to be around, whether it be the easiest day in the world or the crappiest one.

Tears stung Max's eyes and she fought them back. Someone taken so unexpectedly and tragically in the prime of their life. With four children at home and a husband that was no doubt destroyed. Max wished she had have gone back to New York sooner. But her mother had been assailed by all the special needs paper work tossed her way by the government. And dealing with the government was a full time hassle. Even when Michael was alive it was a constant struggle.

Her brother had died young and tragically as well. And while Max grieved for him, she thought of how his life had been over a long time ago. It had been years since he even remembered he had family outside of that hospital. A child in a grown man's body. As cold and vicious, it was almost a relief for the entire family. They didn't have to deal with the tantrums and the self harm and the unexplainable behaviour.

She was suddenly overcome by a vivid memory of her and Michael shortly before he had slipped inside himself and became unrecognizable. They were giggling and chasing each other around the front yard, attacking each other with water pistols. That was her last memory of happiness with her brother, and it took all she had to not break down right there in the airport.

Instead, she composed herself and kept her mind off of things by flipping her phone back open and hitting re-dial.

Again the call went unanswered. It just rang and rang. Not even the answering machine picked up. Which was extremely odd.

Where the hell are you Flack? she thought and snapped her phone closed once again. She stretched out her legs and closed her eyes.

She was in for the long haul.

* * *

"You're not planning on answering the phone today?" Carmen asked, bringing the last of the breakfast dishes to the sink.

Flack was up to his elbows in soapy water. The sounds of the boys' hysterical laughing filtering in from the backyard where Speed was playing soccer with them despite his massive hangover. Flack couldn't deny the fact that he didn't like seeing Tim Speedle having that kind of affect on his kids. But then he reminded him he was only feeling that way for purely selfish reasons, and he should just be glad his kids were able to have a good time despite loosing the most important person in their life. Mikayla was in her high chair playing with some Mega-Blocks.

He shrugged at Carmen's question.

"It's been ringing non stop for nearly forty five minutes." Carmen said. "It could be important."

"I already received the worst phone call of my life. Nothing can beat that."

She couldn't argue with that.

"Probably telemarketers." Flack said. "I ain't in the mood to buy a vacuum cleaner or donate to charities or shell out forty bucks for some encyclopedias."

"You should at least check the call display to see who it was."

"Who cares?" he asked. "They'll keep calling if they want something that bad."

Carmen grabbed the dish rag off the hook on the fridge and busied herself with drying the dishes. "Don, about last night…."

"I don't need a lecture on how stupid I am, Carmen."

"I wasn't going to lecture you. I was just going to say that you scared me and I hope that if there's a next time, you'll come and talk to me instead of thinking killing yourself is the only solution."

"There won't be a next time." he told her.

"I understand why you felt the way you did. Hell, I've even thought about it since Sam died. But that would only hurt the people closest to me. And in your case, that's those kids."

"There won't be a next time." he repeated firmly.

Carmen gave a small smile. "Good." she said.

"So you and Speed….."

"We're taking things slow." Carmen told him.

Flack nodded. "You didn't find it weird, being with him knowing he'd been with Sam?"

"Did you find it weird being with Sam any time in the past seven years?" Carmen asked.

"First couple of times." he admitted.

"I forgave her, Flack. I just never forgot."

"Yeah? Well you don't have two permanent reminders under your nose all the time either." he said.

Carmen frowned. "That's unfair. To those kids and Sam."

"It's how I feel." Flack said with a shrug. "I have to go back to work on Monday." he said for a change of pace.

"All ready?"

"Been nearly a month, Carmen."

"You have unlimited paid sick leave." she pointed out.

"Maybe. But Gerrard keeps calling to remind me I have monstrous case loads waiting on my desk and he needs me to get my ass in gear sooner rather than later. And honestly, Carmen, I can't stay in this house day in and day out. Even picking the kids up from school and what not and trying to make things seem normal. I'm going insane. I need to get back to work."

"Maybe. But are you ready to go back to work?"

"It's not a matter of being ready, Carmen. It's a matter of needing to for my sanity."

She nodded, considering his answer. "It's going to be hard, Don." she said gently.

"I know. Going up to the lab…." he sighed heavily and his shoulders tensed. "I'll see her every where, Carmen. Everything will remind me of her. But she wouldn't want me to just roll over and die. She'd want me to be strong and go on and…" his voice faltered from emotion. "I have to do it for her, Carmen. I don't want to let her down anymore than I already have."

"You never let her down, Flack. You were a great husband and you're an amazing father. You were there for her no matter what. Through thick and thin. And she loved you with every ounce of her being,"

"You know there's an IAB investigation going on, right?"

"Danny mentioned it."

"Not sure how long it's going to go on for. But they're holding up Sam's vacation pay and her pension pay out until it's over. I don't know how I am going to take care of my kids on just my pay. I'm just glad we have a small mortgage because Sam was smart enough to keep some of Zack's money back to help us get this house."

Carmen listened quietly. Understandingly.

"But there's still some mortgage payments and property taxes and insurance on two cars and bills to pay and four kids to feed and buy clothes for and all of that. We could barely manage sometimes on both our wages. How will I do it on just mine?"

"You shouldn't worry yourself over this right yet, Don. You're fine at this moment so don't make yourself sick with worry."

"I was thinking of selling Sam's car and maybe moving us into a smaller house somewhere that's more affordable. Or maybe moving in with my parents for a while."

Carmen shook her head. "This house was Sam's pride and joy, Don. She wouldn't want you to do that."

"I just can't do it myself." he admitted.

"Then I'll tell you what. Seeing as I'm not going back to Rick, why don't I come and stay here with you and the kids. I can help you out around the house and with taking care of them. I can pay rent. Room and board type thing."

"I can't take your money, Carmen."

"You don't have a choice. I can stay in the den. The pull out is comfortable and…."

"I'll stay in the den." Flack argued. "You can stay in the master bedroom. I'll even buy a new mattress so you don't have to sleep on the same one Sam and I did. Place would light up like Chernobyl if you ever shined that ALS thing on it."

"Toxic swamp." Carmen laughed. "I can't take your bedroom, Don."

"Why not? I can't sleep in there anyway. I barely like going in there. You take the bedroom and I'll take the den."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure." Flack replied. "And thanks…..for being willing to do this."

"I'd do anything for you and those boys. And Sam. You know that."

"I do. You were a great friend to her, Carmen. Thank you for that."

She smiled and put her arm around him and rested her head on his arm. "She was very special to me, Flack." she said and struggled with tears. Just when she thought she was teared out.

"I know, Carmen." he said in a near whisper. "I know."

"I just…..I miss her….I miss her so much."

Flack only nodded and took his hands out of the water. Drying them on the front of his pants, he wrapped both of his big strong arms around Carmen's slender frame and held her tight to him.

Carmen clung to him as she sobbed into his chest.

"One breath at a time, Carmen." he said, his chin resting on the top of her head. "It's how we'll get through this."

"She just…..she didn't deserve this, Don. I can't stop thinking about it. About her lying there and you having to watch her…."

"She wasn't alone, Carmen. I promise you she wasn't alone. I know that's what you're scared of."

She nodded.

"I would never have left her alone. You know that. I was always with her. Just like she was with me. I promise you that she wasn't scared and she wasn't alone and that I bet she was thinking about you."

"If only…."

"We can't live on if only's, Carmen. It would kill us if we did. And Sam……Sam wouldn't want you to live like that either."

Carmen sniffled noisily and raised her head from his chest. "Boy, if this isn't a role reversal." she said with a small laugh.

"You have the right to grieve." Flack told her. "You're human. Just know that I'm here for you just as much as you're here for me. Okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you, Don."

"For what?"

"Loving her as much as you did. And for taking such good care of her. You made her so happy."

He managed a smile. "Wasn't easy." he said.

"I know."

"But she made it worth my while." he said. "All the bad times we went through…..I'd do it all again for more time with her."

"You're going to be okay, Don. You will. You'll cope. You have to. For Sam."

He nodded. "For Sam." he agreed.

It hadn't always been that way.

And that was his biggest regret of all.

* * *

**Special thanks to 'my Montana' for another great song.  
****Also to: Aphina: for her endless support and understanding  
****Sister luv v.2: for her many words of encouragement and for giving me such an amazing character to work with  
****Hope4sall: for her late night chats and for letting me bounce many an idea off of her and offering up such great ones of her own**

**Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of you! And for the lurkers, if you like the story (positivity only please) drop me a review! I love getting mail!**

**Aphina: **_You were expecting smut weren't you! LOL. So was I to be honest and then it went in it's own completely different direction. The boxer shorts scene was just for you my lovely!  
_**Mauveine: **_I tend to agree with Flack, too. And Sam's hormones are so out of whack it makes her reactions even worse. I love sarcasm. I'm glad it makes you laugh.  
_**Hope4sall: **_thanks for all your help with that last chap. You gave me the confidence to go for it and I did.  
_**Blue: **_Your girl is causing major issues, huh? I love it  
_**Laplandgurl:**_Counselling for everyone! LOL. I need it sometimes just writing the story.  
_**Madison: **_Things are going a little better, thanks for your concern. That is how I pictured Flack to be in a fight and when he doesn't get his own way.  
_**much madness: **_I have had fights like that where you just toss whatever you can think of just to hurt the other person. And Flack means well and he'll get it all sorted out soon.  
_**Brttmclv: **_I love your praises. blushes and I am glad that you enjoyed that chap.  
_**Soccer: **_my faithful supporter! Thanks for sticking with this!  
_**Hardylover7477: **_I am glad that you noticed some of the things between Sam and Flack and you're right, it doesn't always have to be violent.  
_**Eva: **_The warning just lured people in even farther. I am evil that way. LOL. Real life is slowly getting better._

**Todays plugs:**

**Mauveine: Someday  
****Madison Bellows: Playing with Fire (based on the show Rescue Me. This story is fab!) and The Saints Aren't Coming  
****Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (a fab Miami fic  
****Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes  
****Brrtmclv: Bonds and Crash and Burn (a fic based on the movie Four Brothers. It's fantastic!)**


	71. Learning to play nice

**Learning to play nice (somewhat anyway)**

"Take time to realize,  
That your warmth is  
Crashing down on in.  
Take time to realize,  
That I am on your side  
Didn't I, didn't I tell you.

But I can't spell it out for you,  
You know it's never gonna be that simple  
No I can't spell it out for you

If you just realize what I just realized,  
Then we'd be perfect for each other  
And we'll never find another  
Just realized what I just realized  
We'd never have to wonder if  
We missed out on each other now."

-Realize, Colbie Caillat

* * *

Flack felt like Tony Soprano sitting there on the shrink's couch for the first time. Not much to say and what did come out of his mouth dripped with negativity and sarcasm. He didn't want to be there. He didn't hide that fact or deny it. As far as he was concerned, department counsellors and anger management were nothing but a crock of shit. He'd been many times before based on some perp's word that the situation hadn't required the amount of force that had been used. Questionable behaviour, brass called it. Not becoming of a New York City police officer. Whatever the hell that was suppose to mean. He may be known for his short fuse and eagerness to lay the beats down on someone, but compared to what other cops were up to, Flack figured he was damn near a saint. He wasn't taking bribes or selling dope or mixing it up with gang bangers or Mafioso. He wasn't a raging alcoholic or druggie and he didn't beat his wife because the stress of the job was too much. He was just some boring, average, run of the mill shmuck. Not some out of control, power hungry freak with a badge and a gun.

And as far as Tony Soprano went, he may have come around in the end, but he'd at least had a decently hot woman therapist to talk to. Flack was stuck with a short, round, rapidly balding man in his late fifties with thick glasses and clothes that belonged back in the early eighties. In fact, Flack was sure his grandfather had owned that exact same cardigan sweater. And his grandfather had been dead nearly a decade.

"So tell me why you're here, Detective Flack." Doctor Steven Masterston said after nearly fifteen minutes of zero eye contact, let alone conversation.

"You've got my file there." Flack nodded at the folder perched on the doctor's lap, alongside of a pen and note pad. "You tell me why I'm here."

The doctor said nothing. He simply jotted something down on his note pad.

Probably about how uncooperative I am, Flack mused. Gerrard only said he had to go in order to come back to work. Not that he had to be pleasant.

"You must know why you're here." Masterston said.

"Yeah. Five days ago I smashed a perp's head off the floor in interrogation and gave him a concussion, busted nose and twenty stitches to his forehead." Flack informed the doctor.

"And why did you do that?"

"I think it had something to do with the fact he went Hannibal Lector on my arm." Flack concluded angrily. "And could have given me God knows what kind of crazy disease. I get something, I'm passing it along to my wife and my unborn kid. So I wasn't entirely happy with the guy biting me."

"Do you think you could have handled the situation without resorting to violence?"

"The guy almost put the beats on the CSI in the room with me and then resisted arrested. He was hopped up on drugs and was fighting like hell and ten times stronger than my buddy and I put together. So no, I don't think I could have handled it without getting upset. He nearly tore a chunk out of my arm. I have some nerve damage and I need skin grafting done on it. You can say I'm pretty pissed."

Masterston nodded as he jotted everything done. Then noticed the cast on the detective's right hand. "The incident report filed by Detective Mac Taylor didn't mention you injuring your hand."

"That happened at home." Flack said. "It's a boxer's fracture. It's what happens when you put your fist through a wall. Woke up the day after I nailed the wall and my hand was swollen and there was a weird bump under the baby finger. Went into the ER 'cause of the pain and they took some x-rays and well.." Flack held up his hand. "Here's the result. A cast for a month. So on top of my skin grafting, I also may need to get surgery on my hand because I'm a complete dumb ass."

"A wall or a person?" Masterston asked.

"Come again?"

"Did you hit a wall or a person?" the doctor clarified.

"A wall." Flack said, offended at the suggestion. "Look, if I ever hit my wife, I'd jump off the Brooklyn Bridge to punish myself."

"Why did you punch a wall?"

"I was upset."

"About?"

"My wife and I got into a fight. We said some things that were pretty nasty. She walked out and I punched a wall. Enough said. It's all good now. We kissed and made up. Well, sort of. I've been sleeping on the couch for nearly four days. But that's 'cause we're trying to avoid each other 'cause my lab tests haven't come back yet and we're nervous about me having something. But you're not a sex therapist are you."

"No."

"'Cause that's probably adding to my anxiety and frustration. The lack of sex thing. You don't know my wife. I've you knew her and saw her, you'd see where I was coming from."

"How would you describe the relationship you have with your wife?" the doctor asked. "Are you legally married?"

"What does that matter?" Flack asked irritably.

"I didn't see a wedding ring. I was just making an observation."

"We live together. We're getting married in December and our baby is due in March. She's as close to a wife as you can get without the ring and the papers."

"So you're relationship is….." the doctor pressed.

"I love my wife. More than life. And I can't wait to marry her, legally, and become a father."

"How do you handle anger in your personal relationship with your wife?" the doctor asked.

"It's not obvious? I punch things. Things that I can't hurt. I hurt myself. I drink until I can't remember my own name. That kind of thing."

"What do you and your wife fight about?"

Flack shrugged. "Other night, we fought about my new partner."

"Because…"

"Because it's a woman and my wife has crappy self confidence. She has major issues about other women."

"Does that make you angry?"

"No. It irritates the hell out of me. Because I'm not going anywhere. I love her. I tell her that all the time and it doesn't seem to sink in. I guess it doesn't help the situation that my new partner is this girl I used to have a thing with awhile back."

"How would you feel if it was someone from your wife's past working with her?" asked Masterston.

Flack smirked. "Good point." he said. "I'd be pissed and want to bust the guy up."

"You said some nasty things were said in this fight. Can you elaborate?"

Flack frowned. "What does my personal life have to do with problems at work?" he asked.

"Detective Flack, I am trying to gauge how you cope with your anger and stressful situations. According to your employee file, you've been in anger management several times in your career. Would you consider yourself an angry person?"

"Do bears shit in the woods?" Flack asked. "Look, my wife and I…." he sighed. "I love my wife. I do. But sometimes, sometimes she drives me insane. She wants to be all independent and self sufficient and all that and I get that. I understand totally. But she's almost four months pregnant and I just want to protect her and the baby. I don't want anything happening to them."

"And you don't feel she understands that?"

"Hell no. She doesn't understand it at all. She freaks on me for being overprotective and treating her like a baby. Yet she won't listen to me when it comes to restrictions at work. She just goes and does whatever the hell she wants. It's the thing I hate about her. She never listens to me. And then you know what she said? After all that overprotective, jealous crap?"

The doctor shook his head.

"She told me that the way I treat her is a form of abuse. Can you believe that? She tells me that I have to have power and control over her."

"And do you?"

"No. I don't. I just like to keep an eye on her and tell her what I think is best for her and the baby."

"What you think is best or what you know is best?"

Flack thought about that. "Okay, so maybe it's more of the latter….but that's not abuse. Abuse is knocking someone around and I'd never do that."

"Abuse comes in many forms. Physical, emotional…"

"I am not abusive." Flack stated.

"You just admitted to needing to have power and control over your wife." Masterston pointed out

Flack snorted. "Aren't you suppose to me on my side, here?"

"I am on no one's side, Detective Flack. I am here to help you learn to handle your anger and to teach you more creative outlets to unleash that anger as opposed to violence."

Flack fought off the urge to laugh in the doctor's face. If that wasn't the biggest bunch of shit he'd ever heard, he didn't know what was.

"You have six sessions to complete with me." the older man said, getting up from his chair and walking over to his desk. "I have a prepared list of books that might interest you. You can pick them up at Borders or Barnes and Noble and we can discuss them at our future appointments."

Yeah, right, Flack thought, but accepted the piece of paper the doctor held out to him.

"Here's an appointment card. I've taken the liberty of scheduling three appointments in advance. I spoke to Inspector Gerrard and he assured me it should be no problem for you to attend them."

I bet he did, Flack thought and folded the paper in fours and put it and the card in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"I was hoping for our next appointment your wife could accompany you and we could all….."

"Uhhh…No." Flack said quickly and stood up. "Not gonna happen."

"I think it would be beneficial for both of you if…."

"My wife and I can work things out on our own. We don't need therapy."

"I could recommend a couples therapist if you'd feel better talking to them." Masterston said as he accompanied the detective to the door of the office.

"My wife works and she has enough to deal with with her pregnancy. And we're going to try and work our issues out privately." Flack said, opening the door.

"Well if you change your mind….."

"We won't." Flack said and stepped out into the waiting area, closing the door in the doctor's face.

* * *

Max was perched on the edge of Flack's desk when he walked into the precinct shortly before ten thirty. She'd been anxiously checking her watch every five minutes since ten. She knew the drive from One Police Plaza was less than twenty minutes away and his appointment ended at a quarter to ten.

It was amazing how fast word travelled around that place. She hadn't even gotten her coat off before Angell was all ready over there spreading the word that Flack was late because he had anger management counselling at quarter to nine. Max had met Angell had many a crime scene, and had never been too fond of the sultry brunette. Angell was just far too nosy and bossy and oozed negativity wherever she went. And Max liked to stay away from people like that. She even cut the detective off with a curt "I've heard this already" when Angell prepared to go into detail about Flack's incident with the perp five days ago.

"Max!" Flack called as he approached his desk and saw her sitting there picking her nails. "My favourite Canadian. Get your ass off my desk."

"You only wish you could tap my ass, Flack." was her comeback.

"I all ready have, remember. And no thanks. My wife's ass is a hundred times better."

Max laid a hand over her chest and pouted dramatically, feigning offense.

Flack removed his jacket and slung it over the back of his chair. "I'm serious, Max." he said and motioned for her to get off his space.

She jumped down and enveloped his big, strong body with her small arms. "Good to see, you, Don." she said.

"You, too." he said and gave her a brief, one armed hug.

There was enough problems in his relationship without someone noticing Max hugging him and running back to Sam and making it sound as if they were making out or something scandalous. He was trying to make his life better, not fuck it up some more.

Sam walking out had put a serious scare into him. He knew know that she wasn't going to put up with his shit and was more than capable of taking care of herself and their baby. Alone. And that someone like her could easily find someone else, pregnant or not. He wasn't going to take that chance.

"How's Daria?" Flack asked, taking a seat at his desk and grabbing the first case folder on top of a monstrous pile to his left.

"Getting big. And smart as hell. She's looking forward to seeing you. She still calls you Uncle Donnie."

He smiled. "She's a cute kid." he said and flipped open the folder.

"What happened to you?" Max asked, nodding at his cast.

"Boxer's fracture. I punched a wall."

"That's a shame, Flack. Isn't that the hand your favorite?"

"Them's fighting words, Max. And besides, I have someone to do it for me now."

"I heard." Max slipped into her chair. "Congratulations. Marriage and a baby. Wow. I was shocked. Considering you were always vowing to me to never get married or have kids."

"Yeah, well I was never with anyone I cared about enough to do those things with." he said.

Max felt the sting of his brutal honesty. There was a time she'd held out hope at the idea of being more to him than just a fuck buddy. It had gone on for nearly five years and it had been nearly a year and half since the last time they had been together , and she didn't deny that she missed it. The things that that man could do in bed were mind blowing. But he had now made it quite clear that she'd meant nothing more to him than sex. And it hurt to hear it. But she managed to hide it well.

"Really?" she asked. "Hmmm…..remind me to be thankful that you're not Daria's father. Since you didn't care anyway."

"It's not that I didn't care, Max." Flack told her, not taking his eyes off the case file in front of him. "It just had nothing to do with me. It was the guy you were with besides me that couldn't remember to use a condom."

Max blinked. Flack was in rare form with his snide comments today. He was notorious for being a bastard and was living up to it at the moment.

"All right. Fine." Max huffed. "You're right. Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore. You're not Daria's dad. That's my battle to fight. Oh, and tell your wife she doesn't have to worry about my kid being your bastard."

Flack smirked and shook his head. "Lucky for you, it was my wife who found your kid when you couldn't keep a better eye on her. Someone else could've done a Ted Bundy and taken off with her. So do me a favor and back off of my wife. Talk all your shit to me, Max, but don't say fuck all about my wife."

"You're awful goddamn sensitive." Max snorted.

"You're picking on my pregnant wife. Look, I told you when it started five years ago that there'd be nothing more than sex between me and you. Not my fault that you can't deal with that. Now I've got tons of cases here and very little time and who knows when we'll get a call. So do me a favour and just sit there and don't wag your mouth. Got nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."

"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black." Max said, leaning back in her desk and crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a bigger prick than what I remembered, Don Flack."

"Takes one to know one." he retorted.

Max fumed and shot him the middle finger.

"Don't waste your favourite finger on me, Max." Flack said.

She jumped up and slammed her hands down on her desk. "Fuck you, Flack!" she snapped and stalked off.

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her go. He turned his attention back to his work.

Finally, he thought. Some damn piece and quiet.

* * *

Sam relished her days off. Before she loved to work as often as possible. Her job was her passion, probably the one thing that she was genuinely good at and never second guessed herself while doing it. Professionally she was in complete control. Personally was an entirely different story.

Before her hormones became out of whack and before her body began drastically changing, she had had no problem pulling in staggering amounts of over time and found herself able to stay on her feet, and awake and alert, for as long as twenty four hours without feeling the strain. Now, she could barely keep enough energy to stay up longer than twelve hours. All she wanted to do was sleep. And eat. If she could do the latter while she was doing the former, life would be perfect.

She felt like shit. She admitted it to no one but herself. Constant heartburn, fatigue and a constantly queasy stomach. The pills had long ago ceased to do little more than temporarily calm her stomach. Her emotions were all over the map. One moment she could be upbeat and happy and the next she could be in tears and as low down as someone could possibly get. She knew the hormones were to blame. She'd read somewhere that some women had more hormone levels than others and it really screwed them up mentally. Leave it to her to be in that group as oppose to the happy go lucky ones that went through pregnancy without any illness or problems.

She knew the hormones were also to blame for her freak out about Max. Had she not been pregnant, she would have just been able to just shrug the whole thing off and not be bothered by Flack working with some girl he had been with long before Sam came along. But the mere thought of Max spending so much time with him, especially when Sam was off on leave and couldn't keep an eye on things, nearly sent her into a blind panic.

If it happened back then, it could happen now. That was the philosophy Sam was living by at the moment. If Flack had been attracted to the woman back then to have sex with her, there was nothing stopping him from being attracted to her now. And with the temptation staring him right in the face and with troubles in his relationship and a wife that felt self conscious about her increasing weight gain, Sam was pretty sure, given the right moment, Max wouldn't think twice about trying something.

And Sam was not going to sit back and let that happen. What woman would?

She got up at quarter after ten. Sleeping in had become her favorite pass time. She had been up for a short time earlier, when she'd heard the alarm clock go off in the living room and then heard Flack get up and start getting ready for work. She'd sat with him and they talked while he had his morning coffee. The sleeping on the couch thing as getting ridiculous. She was dying. She needed sex and had no desire to take care of the matter herself. She was being as patient as possible and knew he was suffering just as bad as she was.

The doctor couldn't call with the results soon enough. To add to the concern, Thomas Strickland's doctor had called Mac with the news that Strickland suffered from hepatitis B. Which was could be spread through blood and bodily fluids and could be passed on through sexual contact and to a baby from the mother during childbirth.

They were holding out hope that Strickland hadn't passed it along. There was too much at risk. The doctor had assured them that the chances of contracting it through the bite was slim to none, but as in all cases of any disease, it was better to be safe than sorry.

She'd gone back to bed after Flack had left for his nine a.m. appointment with the therapist. She knew he wasn't excited about the fact that he had to go, and was just doing it because Gerrard was forcing him too. She tried to be as supportive as possible and assure him it wasn't a sign of weakness because he needed to talk to a professional. That had earned her one of his infamous, You've got to be fucking kidding me looks.

She'd kissed him goodbye at the door -they had relegated themselves to chaste kisses, fearing anything more would lead into something that they both desperately wanted and needed, but knew they couldn't have- and watched as he headed down to the elevator. They'd kissed and made up since their fight. Both had apologized for things that had been said and she hadn't mentioned counselling again. She'd agreed to give working things out themselves a try.

But still, a part of her hoped that the therapist would say something that might change Flack's mind. It was always good to get an impartial opinion on things. And to help each other see what the other was feeling and struggling with.

She ate a simple breakfast of Cheerios and toast and then took a long, relaxing, lazy bath. Bubbles up to her chin and the radio on full blast in the living room so that she could hear it in the bathroom. It was nice to have nothing work related on her mind for at least a short period of time. She instead thought about the progress of the lawyer she had hired who was now down in Phoenix working out Zack's will. The plan was to have the car shipped back to NYC (Sam had decided to give it to Carmen, the only person she knew that didn't have a car), the house to be sold and the money transferred directly from Zack's funds, into her own.

Once the house was sold, that money would stashed away in a savings account. She planned, with the initial money, to buy everyone she knew something nice. She had actually started making a list the night before. For Adam, she had all ready decided to walk in to his bank and pay off all of his student loans and credit cards. And her own as well. Stella she planned on buying a pair of diamond and emerald earrings that the two had seen together while out shopping a couple of weeks ago. At the same time she had spotted an expensive platinum and yellow gold watch that she was planning on buying for Flack. She'd seen a set of medical and forensic journals she thought would suit Hawkes, and decided to give Speed some money towards a new motorcycle. Mac and Danny she was stuck on.

No one knew she was getting anything from Zack's will. And that's just the way she liked it. She was finally able to buy the people she loved nice things and wanted it to be a surprise. And she had every intention of going back to that baby store and buying whatever the hell she felt like. For once it was nice to know that she could spend and not have to worry about how she'd pay her pills and rent and eat for the month. All her life finances had been a struggle and a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders when she had decided to cash in on Zack's death. After all, it was the least he could do.

It surprised her that she felt no guilt or shame thinking that way. Or for thinking that the world was a better place without Zack in it. She usually wasn't so bitter and angry. But being in a relationship with a man that was so giving and loving (the majority of the times) and who made her feel special and important, had made her realize that men like Zack were in the minority. And that those type of men were nothing but a waste of time and energy. She was also realizing now that she should be grateful for what she did have, and learn to be more accepting of someone's faults instead of being so judgemental. She may have wanted to feel appreciated and love more, but that was also a two way street and he deserved that as much as she did. And truth be told, they'd been down right awful to each other lately. And that had to stop.

Her hair still damp from her bath, she quickly dressed in a pair of maternity jeans and a simple pink cotton blouse that tied at the back. It was discouraging how much she was already showing. A week away from four and a bit months and she looked almost six. Either the kid was going to twenty pounds at birth or she was retaining a whole lot of water.

She slipped into a pair of backless shoes and grabbed her purse off the couch and her keys and cell phone off of the microwave. It was a quarter after twelve. She had promised to meet Stella at twelve thirty and Flack for lunch at one o'clock.

Samantha was determined to make everything right in her life, regardless of whatever outside interference she came up against.

And that included Emma Maxwell.

* * *

"Do you think I'm over reacting?" Sam asked Stella, as the two of them met for coffee at the Starbucks across from the lab. Sam had just finished regaling the older woman with the tale of her freak out over Flack working with his former fuck buddy.

The two women were becoming closer now. They spent shared days off shopping and taking in a movie or going out for a nice meal afterwards. It was more a mother/daughter type bond they were forming, much to the surprise of both. Their age difference was not that great, yet Stella found herself wanting to mother the young CSI. Samantha looked up to Stella and admired her greatly. And valued her honest, straight forward opinions on things. And her willingness to lend a shoulder to cry on if need be.

"To be honest, if it was Mac working with someone that he'd been previously involved with, I would be pretty pissed. I would not be happy about them spending all that time working together, especially in a job that keeps you with your partner more than you see your family."

Sam nodded, considering Stella's answer as she stirred milk into her tea. "Don said I was making a big deal out of nothing."

"He's a man, of course that's what he said." Stella sighed. "But I can tell you right now that he wouldn't be too happy if you were working with someone you once had a thing with."

"I told him he was too overprotective and jealous all the time. That I needed some breathing space. That I couldn't take him treating me like a child and having to have power and control over me."

"And what did he say?"

"We had a huge fight. Huge. We said a lot of mean, hurtful things that we can't take back. And I ended up taking off and he ended up punching a wall and getting drunk."

Stella sighed and sipped her latte. "Why am I not surprised? That's so Flack."

"You know him better than I do, Stella. That's strange to say considering I'm pregnant with his kid and marrying him in three months. But is he always like this when he's with someone?"

"Flack's never been with anyone in the same capacity that he's with you. His relationships never lasted longer than a couple months. Mostly because he could never find someone that accepted all the time and energy he puts into the job. Someone that was willing to take the back seat. And we both know, Sam, that that happens in our field. We're not always first just like our men aren't always first with us."

Sam sighed and sipped her tea. She couldn't deny that.

"And honestly, Flack was never looking for Mrs Right. He was always looking for Mrs Right Now. He doesn't exactly have the greatest track record with women. Devon. Need I say more?"

"That's what worries me, Stel. That track record. I mean, what's stopping him from doing that same thing to me?"

"For one, he loves you. Two, your having his baby and he's over the moon about it. Three, you're going to be his wife and he is so proud of that fact. It could be easy for him to screw you over, but you know what? That'll never happen."

Sam smiled.

"And he also knows if he does, I'll kick his ass." Stella added somewhere between seriousness and playfulness.

"There's still times I wonder if I rushed into things. That maybe I shouldn't have been so eager to be with someone. I know that must sound horrible. Because I do love him and I can't wait to marry him and have this baby… I just….sometimes I wonder if it was all too soon. For both of us."

"I think that no matter what stage of your life you had have been in when you met Flack, the outcome would have been the same. You two were meant to meet and fall in love and live happily ever after."

Sam laughed around a mouthful of tea. "That's corny, Stell." she said.

"A little." Stella admitted. "But if any two people deserve happily ever after, it's you two. Just be happy, Sam. And in love. And if Flack was here, I'd say the same thing to him. And maybe I will say it to him when I see him later. Help him get his head out of his ass."

"Every little bit helps." Sam said.

"So have you made any plans yet? Bought anything?"

"We're still waiting a bit longer to start the baby shopping." Sam said. "Until those tests are done. They're our major concern right now."

"I didn't mean baby stuff." Stella laughed. "I meant the fact you're getting married in three months. You haven't made plans?"

"What's to plan? We're getting a judge to do it. We'll wait a bit, apply for the license, get rings. I think he's all ready asked one of the judges he's on friendly terms with to do it."

"And what are you going to wear?" Stella asked.

Sam shrugged. "I'll find a nice dress somewhere I'm sure."

"Well, seeing as Mac and I can't make it because someone from the team has to keep an eye on the lab while the rest of you are off, my contribution will be finding you a proper dress. Something that is perfect for a quiet, subdued ceremony. And it'll give us an excuse to do more shopping together. Sound good?"

"Sounds good." Sam agreed. "Thanks. To be honest, with all the baby stuff, I haven't put much thought into the getting married part."

Stella smiled sympathetically. "It's going to be okay, kiddo. All those tests? Trust me, in the end, you guys will see there was nothing to be worried about."

"I hope so." Sam sighed. "Not that it makes a difference and I know we'd manage and love the baby regardless…..it's just….." she shrugged and didn't finish the sentence.

Stella reached across the table and squeezed Sam's hand comfortingly. "It's okay to be scared." she assured the younger woman.

Sam nodded in agreement and sipped tea to get rid of the lump of emotion in her throat.

"I decided that I'm going to take your advice." Stella told the younger woman, deciding what was best was to change the subject.

"About?"

"What you said to me a little while ago about me and Mac and telling him what I wanted out of my life with him. I figure I don't have much to loose but I have a whole lot to gain. I want forever with him. And I hope he wants the same thing with me."

"I don't think you'll have anything to worry about." Sam told her.

"And neither will you. Trust me, Samantha. Flack's not going anywhere. You have to have faith in him. And in yourself. I know that's hard sometimes, especially after the nightmare that was Zack, but you need to trust Flack to make the right decisions. He knows right from wrong."

"It's her I don't trust." Sam said with a sigh.

"Tell her that. Be honest. Tell her you don't like the idea of her and Flack working together and that you'd appreciate it if she kept her hands and her thoughts to herself. You be surprised how far a little brutal honesty will get you. And you might be pleasantly surprised and find that this Emma Maxwell has since moved on with her life and isn't any threat to you at all."

Somehow Sam doubted that.

* * *

Max yawned noisily and tried to concentrate on the case folder propped open on her legs, her feet planted on the top of Flack's cluttered desk. She couldn't believe the amount of cases on that man's plate. It was staggering. Either he was a damn slow worker or the crazies in the city of New York were on a massive rampage. She suspected it was the latter. Sky high crime rates were nothing new and they came and went more often than most people changed their underwear. She was just glad that as far as new cases went, it was so far a calm, quiet day.

She was hungry. It was shortly before one in the afternoon and she was hoping that Flack was soon done with his meeting with Gerrard so she could suggest they run out and grab something. The boss had called him in a half hour ago to discuss his anger management session that morning. There were no raised voices or anyone storming out of the office and slamming the door behind them, so Max assumed everything was going okay.

Max glanced sideways and up as someone stepped alongside the desk. A less than impressed looking Samantha Ross was glaring down at her.

"Hi." Max greeted cheerfully. Hoping it didn't sound as phony to Sam's ears as it did to her own. Flack's words to her earlier still stung, so Samantha Ross was not her favorite person at the moment. She eyed the CSI up and down, making it clear that she wasn't impressed with what she saw.

Flack could definitely do much better, she thought and went back to the case folder in front of her.

"Do you mind?" Sam asked, nodding down at Max's feet perched on Flack's desk.

"No." Max replied. "Do you?"

Sam smirked and none to gently shoved Max's legs off of the desk. "Yeah…." she said. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"What's your problem?" Max asked.

"Where's Don?" Sam responded with a question of her own.

"In with Gerrard. Are you always this pleasant or is that baby hormones causing you to be a raging bitch?"

"Look, Maxwell, let's cut the shit. I don't trust you and I don't like you. And I know for a fact that you don't like me because I'm the one that got between you and whatever life you fantasized about having with Don. So do me a favor and stay away from me and stay away from my husband. You even so much as have a wet dream about him, I'll be on your ass. Okay? So don't try and get all buddy-buddy with me."

"Boy." Max snorted. "You and Flack are made for each other."

"I'm serious. Go and find someone elses man to snatch. We're trying hard to make things work and we don't need any outside interference."

"Ever thought maybe that if you guys have to work that hard, maybe you're just not meant to be together?" Max asked.

"Spoken like a true woman scorned. Give it a rest, Max. I've dealt with bigger bitches than you all my life. So do me a favor and go and sit at your own desk and stop acting like you own the damn place."

"It's a desk, Ross. No big deal."

"You have your own. Use it."

"Look, despite what you think, I'm actually a really nice person…."

Sam snorted.

"And I don't want your fiance. I mean, that's what he is. Unless I missed the wedding announcement."

"I'm warning you, Max. If you have a shred of decency in your body, don't fuck up my family."

Max got to her feet, tossing the folder onto her desk. "Samantha, listen, I don't know what your issue is…."

"Would you want your husband, fiance, boyfriend or whatever working with someone he used to fuck?" Sam cut her off.

"It was more than that."

"Well apparently he doesn't think so. So if you have an intention on trying something…."

"Let's make things clear between us." Max spoke calmly and quietly. "Personally, if you're like this with Flack, I can see why you two have so many probems. And from where I'm standing, he can do a hell of a lot better."

Sam laughed. "You mean you? Please. You're delusional."

"I don't care what you think. I don't want your man. I've all ready had your man if you want to get mean about it."

"Guess it was less than memorable for him or he'd be with you and not me." Sam concluded.

"Let's just lay it all out on the table." Max suggested.

Sam shrugged. "Be my guest." she said. "I'm not shy. Don't hold back."

"I have not had sex in two and half years thanks to my daughter. I have no time and no energy being a single mother. And my daughter? For some reason I can't quite figure out, she seems to love you. All I've heard about in the last few days is 'Sam bought me lunch, can I have lunch with Sam again?' I actually had to go out and buy myself a vibrator because I'm so deprived. I DO NOT want Flack. I may have at some point, but there's too much shit going on for me to even care who's he's fucking or engaged to or having kids with. You can have him, I don't care."

"Well let's keep it that way, okay?" Sam offered a sugary sweet smile that clearly was anything but genuine.

"What the hell is your….."

"What's going on?" Flack asked as he arrived back at his desk and found his future wife and his partner embroiled in what appeared to be an intense conversation.

"Nothing." Sam replied. "Max and I were just having a getting to know each other chat."

Flack nodded slowly, looking back and forth between the two women.

"How'd your appointment go?" Sam asked.

"It was alright." Flack replied and placed a hand on the small of her back and kissed her softly. "You meet with Stella?"

Sam nodded. "Girl talk. You and Mac were very popular topics of conversation. Are you ready to go? Or did you forget about our lunch date?"

"Didn't forget. Just got called in with Gerrard. He wanted a play by play of my appointment. You know, because he's so concerned about me."

"That's a first." Sam quipped as Flack grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

"I got good news, too." he said, shrugging into his jacket. "Doctor called. All my blood work came back clean."

Sam breathed a huge sigh of relief. "You mean things are actually going our way for once?"

"So far it's all good. I just have to go back in a couple months and have the HIV test done again. Mac even said he'd run a PCR DNA test in about three weeks. Picks up the virus after only twenty-eight days apparently."

"That's an expensive test." Sam said. "I'm surprised we even have one here."

Flack felt it wasn't his place to mention Stella being cut at the Avery Gable crime scene and the scare she'd had when it had been revealed the dead man had had HIV. And the personal hell she'd gone through waiting for the results of her own testing. By the grace of God, she'd been fine.

"You know Mac." Flack said. "He likes to be on the cutting edge of things."

"Well at least your okay." Max spoke up. "That's the most important thing. Now if you would learn that punching walls over a woman is juvenile and so not worth it…."

"Guess you've never had that effect on someone." Sam said.

"You proud of fucking with someone's head like that?" Max retaliated.

"Enough." Flack said, looking directly at Max. "You know nothing about Sam and I and our relationship."

"I know its fucking dysfunctional." Max told him.

"No more dysfunctional than settling to be someone's fuck buddy for years." Sam reasoned.

"Okay, ladies. Enough." Flack took Sam lightly by the arm and began steering her away from the desk. Last thing he needed was to be breaking up a girl fight in the middle of the precinct. "Max," he said over his shoulder, as he led Sam to the exit. "I'll be out for a couple hours."

"Whatever." Max snorted and plopped down into her chair.

"She's a peach, Don." Sam said as she and Flack stepped through the doors and out onto the sunny street.

"She never used to be like that." Flack said with a sigh.

"Maybe you need to go back in there and loosing her up. Fuck her for old times sake." Sam suggested.

"You know what? Come here for a second." he pulled her gently towards him and circled her slender body with his arms and held her close, leaning down far enough so that his lips were against her ear. "I'd rather fuck you." he said and then pressed a kiss to her ear.

She shivered at the simple touch and the words, as crude as they were, that he had said. "We do have enough condoms at home to own stocks in the Trojan company." she teased.

"I've got two hours." Flack told her, drawing back to look at her. "We can do a lot in two hours."

"How hungry are you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling up at him. "Can you wait for lunch?"

"Can you?" he asked.

She smiled.

He kissed her. Long and soft.

"I think you should take me home." she said and grabbing his hand, yanked him in the direction of the car.

"Turns me on when you get all assertive and aggressive." he told her.

She grinned over her shoulder. "You ain't see nothing yet." she said.

**Special thanks to sister luv v.2, Aphina, Mauviene and hope4sall for all their help and just for being there.**

**Thanks to all of you who are taking the time to read and review. And to all the lurkers, drop a line if you enjoy this. I love mail. Just positive comments please!! **

**PLUGS:**

**Everything I have ever plugged before along with:**

**Soccer-bitch: Running from the Past**


	72. Coming Clean

**Coming Clean**

**THIS IS RATED M FOR SMUT FOLKS. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE, I SUGGEST SKIPPING THE FIRST SECTION AND MOVING STRAIGHT TO THE SECOND. FOR ALL OF YOU WHO AREN'T, ENJOY**

"I like your pants around your feet  
I like the dirt that's on your knees  
I like the way that you still say please  
when you're looking up at me  
You're like my favorite damn disease."  
-Figured You Out, Nickelback

**A/N: Big thanks to hope4sall for you help with 'the talk' and for lending me some things. Much apprectiated.**

* * *

Five days may as well have been five decades. There'd been a time when Flack could go months without getting off with a woman and not be suffering at the end of it. Now just shy of a week was enough to drive him completely insane. In just the last six months alone he'd gotten more sex than he'd had in his entire thirty years. Not that that was a complaint. In fact, every time they were together was so incredible and so different than the last that he only wished they could have it more often. Hard not to be turned on at the drop of your hat when your future wife was stunningly beautiful and vivacious and was walking sex from head to toe one minute and so naïve and innocent and pure the next. The two extremes in personalities were enough to blow his mind. She also knew how to play it, and him, to get exactly what she wanted, when she wanted. And how she wanted.

Even the smallest kiss and the tiniest sultry look were enough to drive him insane. He'd never been with a woman that responsive and uninhibited. So willing and eager to try just about anything. Flack had never known anyone like her. Or been with anyone like her. And, as they stood in the elevator of his apartment building, groping each other through their clothes and kissing and necking like horny high schoolers, he was struck by the sudden thought that his life had been on hold until he met her. And the moment he met Samantha Ross and his life started on a completely different path, he had been on one hell of a wild ride.

And he wouldn't change a damn thing about it. Or her. She wasn't perfect. But then neither was he. And that was okay. They never put pressure on each other to perfect. Less flawed, maybe, but never perfect. Life would have been way too damn boring if they never made mistakes and got along all the time.

The apartment door hadn't even been locked behind them before they were on each other again. Hands rapidly divesting clothes, letting them tumble to the floor in small heaps. Shoes were kicked off impatiently. His badge and holster were tossed onto the table by the door.

His plan on the drive home had been to take the majority of the two hours, take her into the bedroom and make long, sweet and intense love to her. Take his time. Explore every possible inch of her. Pleasure her as much as possible. Samantha however, obviously had something else in mind as her hands slid down his bare chest and stomach and quickly went to work on his belt buckle.

"And you always say I'm the impatient one." Flack said teasingly.

"I may be a massively hormonal pregnant woman, but I also happen to be a massively horny one too." she informed him.

"Thank God." he said and combed his fingers of his good hand through her hair, tipping her head back and to the side and placing light, feathery kisses along her smooth, slender neck. "I was so worried you'd be the type that wouldn't want me touching you ever again."

"Never going to happen." she declared, then sighed when his lips skimmed along her sensitive collarbone. Her hands continued working on his belt, getting it unclasped and then snapping open the button on his pants.

"Maybe we should go in the bedroom." he suggested, pulling back to look at her, even though what he was feeling below the waist was far more persuasive than his brain at that point. On one hand he wanted to be a gentleman and take things slow and easy, on the other hand he just wanted to turn her around and make her beg for it.

"Why bother?" she asked, sliding down his zipper and slipping her hand inside. She grinned up at him as she fondled his erection. "See…..you don't want to waste time any more than I do."

"I was just thinking that…"

"When are you the one to do the thinking?" she asked playfully, yanking both his boxers and his pants over his ass and hips and letting them drop to the floor. She smiled impishly up at him and resume her handy work with his throbbing erection. Her hands were warm and soft and were in danger of ending things before they even really started.

"I just thought that because it's been a few days and I'm off for a couple hours that we can do things properly. Enjoy it."

"There's a whole life time to do things properly, Don." she told him. "Right now, let's just cut to the chase and make each other happy. Can we do that?"

"But don't you…."

"No. Whatever it is, no. I just want you and I do have a straight to the point, fuck me hard and fast in the middle of the kitchen moment. Can we do that? Can you do that?"

"Depends." he said with a grin.

She frowned. "On what?"

"Do I get to be in charge? 'Cause the day I've had so far, I need to be in charge."

She smiled. "You can go all cop of me if you want." she said.

Every time she said those words to him, something inside of Flack just snapped. There was something so insanely sexy about those words coming out of her mouth and the sincerity that accompanied them. The full out trust that she had in him and the security that he'd never do anything to hurt her. Which was a far cry from how she'd made him feel four nights ago. And he realized that that trust she had in him was one of the things that made him love her as much as he did. Because no one had ever looked at him the way she did.

He reached out and laid his hand alongside her face. "I love you." he said, suddenly dead serious.

She smiled and kissed his palm. "I love you, too. And I know things haven't been easy lately."

"No one ever said life was easy. And if it was, what kind of fun would that be?"

"None. At least we keep things interesting. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself, Don if I wasn't here. Especially when you hurt your favorite hand."

He smirked. "What the fuck is it with women and the hand joke?"

"All men do it." Sam declared. "And if they say they're don't, they're lying. So don't even try standing there and denying you haven't in five days."

"I broke my favorite hand. How could I?" he said with a grin.

"You must be dying then. I guess we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?" she tightened her grip around his cock and moved her hand up and down at a slow, steady pace that had him swallowing noisily and breaking out in a head to toe sweat. "You are so easy to please." she said with a devilish smile.

Her hands were working magic. He couldn't take much more. He kicked the pants and boxers away and grabbed her by the hip with his good hand and yanked her half naked body against his. The lace of her simple white boy shorts brushed against him, the friction against his aching erection making him shiver and adding to his arousal. He kissed her, his tongue quickly pushing into the warm confines of her mouth, his hand slipping down to her ass and holding her tight against him. The tips of her fingers scraped along his sides and around to his back, travelling along his spine. Then down again, her nails digging into his ass. Hard enough to break the skin. He moaned at the mix of pleasure and pain and when he felt her teeth graze against his bottom lip, he broke the kiss.

"You and your biting." he complained "You're vicious."

"Then stop wasting fucking time." she shot back.

"You're very impatient." he told her and slipped his hand up her back, attempting to unfasten the clasp on her bra. With little success. "You're gonna have to help me out here." he said.

"I hope this taught you a lesson." she huffed dramatically, reaching around her body to snap open the bra and quickly discarding it.

"Yeah….instead of punching a wall, I should just shoot something instead."

He bent down and grabbed his pants. Yanked his wallet out of the back pocket and opened it up, pulling out the condom package he'd been carrying around in there for nearly a week in case they said fuck the lab results and get busy wherever. There was something freakishly strange about having to wear a condom to make love to your own wife that was already pregnant. And for about the hundredth time he cursed that damn junkie for making his arm an afternoon snack.

"That was not the comment I was looking for." she said and pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. She dropped them onto the pile of clothes on the floor beside them.

The bump in her stomach was getting bigger. And the sight of it, and the thought of it being his child inside of her, added to his arousal. Her body was transforming before his eyes every day. Her hips and her breasts were becoming fuller and even more beautiful than before. And he'd never thought her body could be better than it all ready was. Her hair and her face were even changing. Her hair was darker and thicker and her face was chubbier and seemed to possess a glow he'd never seen before.

"You're beautiful." he told her, running his hand along her stomach and over that bump and then slid it lower, his fingertips brushing against the soft curls between her legs that were already damp with moisture. He slipped his hand between her thighs and stroked her lips gently before finding her clit and rubbing it softly.

"You make me feel beautiful." she told him. She snatched the condom package from his hand and tore it open. "I think this would be my job." She said and rolled the condom down onto him, then tossed the wrapper onto the table behind her. She turned back to him and ran her hands from his shoulders, down his chest and onto his stomach.

"Tell me what you want me to do." he said, looking deep into this golden eyes.

"You have to ask that?" "I just don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." she assured him. "You know what I like and its up to you to make sure I get what I want. And right now, I want you to quit wasting time and just fuck me." she reached between them and squeezed his cock. "And I want you to fuck me hard and fast and make me scream your name. And if you can't do it for me, then I'll just do it myself in the privacy of our bedroom ."

"That I'd actually like to sit back and watch." he said and kissed her, his hand tight on her hip as he steered her backwards to the closest counter. Part of him felt like an asshole for not being more insistent on doing things properly. But her dirty mouth and the feel of her naked body against his and her hands on his erection were making it too hard to think rationally at the moment.

"I don't do things like that." she said, wincing as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip and the small of her back connected with the edge of the counter top. Definite bruises, she thought. "I'm a good girl."

"Bullshit." Flack said. "I know you do it. I'm not stupid. I just want to be included one of these days. Thought of you doing that to yourself, thinking about me while you do it, that's fucking hot."

"Who said I think about you? You're delusional. I think about Carmen."

"Don't say things like that. That just gets me going even more. That's like every guys ultimate wet dream. We should call her and invite her to join in and I can watch you two…"

"I don't think so. Thought you said you don't share?"

"I don't." he informed her and effortlessly lifted her up onto the counter with one hand. "Besides, you're all I can handle."

"I am way too much even for you." she declared.

"Think so?" he asked, yanking her forward so she was perched on the edge of the counter and then spreading her legs. "Something tells me I'm too much for you." he said and rubbed the head of his cock against her slick opening. "Admit it, you can't take it half the time."

"You wish." she snorted. "You're not doing much of anything right now. Maybe if you were doing something I'd…"

He grabbed her by the ass hard enough to make her cry out and thrust into her unexpectedly, burying himself to the hilt and making her yelp even louder, her finger nails digging into his shoulders. It stung but felt so good at the same time.

"Is that enough of something?" he asked through gritted teeth as he moved deep and hard inside of her.

She answered him by leaning forward and kissing him, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth and applying slight pressure, then drawing back slightly to lick along his lip.

He captured her lips in a hungry, greedy kiss. Moved his hand from her ass to the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair and yanking her head to the side to give his lips and tongue and teeth access to her neck. He felt her hands moving across his shoulders, felt her open her legs even farther to allow him in even deeper with the next rough thrust. He groaned loudly at the sensation of being so deep inside of her and tightened the grip on her hair as he moved even harder and faster.

She was gasping and panting and pleading for release.

"Only got one good hand." he reminded her, his lips against her collarbone, feeling her body jerk with every powerful thrust.

Then she did the hottest thing he could ever imagine. She reached between them, found her clit and started to get herself off. That was the last thing he ever expected her to do and it was the biggest turn on he'd ever experienced in his life. No woman had ever done that in front of him even though it often crossed his mind to ask one of the ones he'd been with if they'd do it. It had always been one of his dirty little fantasies; to see a woman pleasure herself. And now here it was and he didn't even have to ask or beg her to do it.

So maybe breaking his hand had a plus side to it after all.

Sweat and trickled down his face and back as he moved hard and fast inside of her moist, hot body. His forehead resting against hers and his eyes downcast so he could watch what she was doing. His fingers still entwined in her hair, his cock buried deep inside of her, hugged by the quivering muscles inside of her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow, her finger tip moving in slow circles on her throbbing clit. Bringing herself closer and closer.

He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth and she opened her eyes and looked at him. Their eyes locked, a raw, electric contact so intimate it was almost frightening. No jokes or smiles. Just ragged breathing and soft moaning.

She whimpered as her orgasm neared and she rubbed frantically at her clit. He kissed her and held her to him by the back of her head, her forehead resting on his shoulder as he kissed her ear softly.

"It's okay…" he whispered. "Just let it happen. I want you to make it happen."

She groaned against his shoulder, her other hand on his forearm, nails digging into his skin.

"I love you, Samantha…so much….just let it happen…." he pressed further into her, kissed the side of her neck and picked up the pace and intensity of his thrusting. It was hot and fast and would leave marks on the inside of her thighs. But her noises were telling him it was anything but pain she was experiencing.

She felt his teeth graze the spot below her ear and she came at the sensation. A sobbing, clutching orgasm that had her screaming his name into him and sent him over the edge. Milking the cum out of him in violent spurts and shaking his entire body before sagging against her.

* * *

Flack wasn't sure how much time passed. In fact, so intense was the release that it seemed as if he literally blacked out and time stood still. Eventually he became aware of their ragged breathing and the collective hammering of their hearts and her limp, sweat soaked body resting against his. Her head lay on his shoulder. He stroked her back and pressed a kiss t the top of her head.

"You're amazing." He said. "Thank you. For doing that. You have no idea what that did to me."

"I need to go to the bathroom." was her cool response.

Uh-oh, Flack thought. "You okay?" he asked.

"I just need to go to the bathroom, Donnie." She replied.

He nodded and pulled out of her slowly and carefully and then curled his arm around her waist to help her slide from the counter to the ground. When he looked at her, he was startled to see tears forming in her eyes.

"Samantha…." He said with concern, watching her as she quickly scooped up her clothes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She said and hurried out of the kitchen.

Flack sighed and pulled off the condom and tossed it into the trash. How in the holy hell does that happen? he thought. How does a woman go from being so into it one minute and so disgruntled the next? He felt like a prick as well. He'd come home with the best of intentions. Determined to make it slow and intimate and intense and it had turned into something impersonal.

How in the hell did I let that happen?

He decided to give her a few minutes. She was unpredictable because of the pregnancy hormones and he had promised her that he wouldn't rush to her aid and smother her if she got into one of her 'moods'. When she didn't come back after several minutes, he climbed back into his boxers and pants and tossed his shirt and tie on the table. He went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face and back of his neck. He'd need a shower before he went back to work.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and poured her a glass of chocolate milk. She seemed to be downing the stuff constantly. He tucked the bottle of water under his arm and headed from the kitchen, cursing his useless right hand, and headed through the living room and down the hall. The bathroom was empty. He found her instead in the bedroom, lying on her side with her back facing the door, the covers pulled to her chin and wearing one of his shirts.

"Sam?" he said from the doorway, his voice gentle and soothing. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm fine." She assured him.

"I brought you something to drink. I'm just going to put it on the nightstand, okay?"

She nodded.

He entered the bedroom, placing the milk on the small bedside table and then sitting down on the bed. Cross legged alongside of her. She wasn't making any noise or even acknowledging he was there, but the shaking of the bed told him she was crying. Something she rarely did in front of him. He cracked open the water and took a huge sip and then placed the bottle between his legs and reached out to stroke her hair.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked.

"Nothing." She replied.

"If I hurt you or I did something you didn't want me to do…"

"You didn't hurt me. You did nothing wrong. It's not you. Okay?"

"Okay….so who and what is it? Because ten minutes ago you were in the middle of a damn good orgasm and now you're in here crying. What's up with that?"

She sniffled noisily.

Flack waited for an answer. But it never came. "You're not embarrassed are you?" he asked. "That you did that in front of me?"

"A little." she admitted.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Sam, that isn't an appropriate answer for anyone over seven." he said.

She sighed.

"Is that why you're upset? You feel embarrassed? Why would you feel that way? First off, I thought it was amazing and incredibly hot and it turned me on something fierce. Second of all, I'm going to be your husband. We share a bed and a life together. My baby is growing inside of you. I'm the last person you should ever feel embarrassed in front of. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Is there something else or just that?" he asked, smoothing her hair off of her forehead and leaning over to press a kiss to her temple.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" her voice was a near whisper.

"Hmmm? I can't hear you baby?"

She rolled over onto her back and then onto her side to face him. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" she asked again.

"In what way?" he asked with a frown.

"Because of the way I am. With sex. Because I'm all fuck me hard and fast. In the shower, against the wall, in the car. Doesn't matter as long as it's fast and furious. I'm rarely take me to bed and love me all night long I'm raging porn star, not the girl you take home to your parents and make into an honest woman."

"Where is this coming from?" Flack asked.

"Do you think I'm a slut?"

He nearly spit out the water he'd just sipped. "What? Where the hell is all of this crap coming from?"

"Just answer the question." She implored. "And be honest, Donnie. I need you to be honest."

"No. I don' t think you're a slut. I mean that …." he paused. For once, words were failing him. "Look, Samantha, I have no problem with this kind of sex. I just want you to be happy and feel good. I mean, it's good sex. It's amazing sex, actually."

"And you like it rough, right?"

"Sure, I like it rough. Sometimes. But … Look, if that's what you're into, I'm into it too. Believe me, it's good sex," he smirked. "But I'm saying that I haven't been with a lot of women who feel that … great about sex like that. I mean it's great once in a while, but it's also great to slow it down and drink champagne and be romantic. And I don't want you to lose that if that's good for you too. I mean sex is good when both of us think it's good."

She sighed and rolled away from him again. "I feel so stupid."

"Why? Tell me why. And look at me when I'm talking to you. Please look at me."

She turned over onto her back and looked up at him.

"Sam, what is going on?" he asked with concern. "Where is all of this coming from?"

"I'm not good at this." She replied.

"With what? Stop talking in goddamn riddles."

"Sex."

He laughed now. "Samantha, you can say a lot of things. But you are fucking amazing at sex."

"You're not understanding what I'm saying."

"You're right. I'm not. I have no goddamn clue what you're going on about. So explain it to me like I'm a three year old."

"I'm fucked up, Don. Really. I have problems with intimacy. I have problems making love. Because I never had that ever. I never had a man that wanted that from me. I had someone that only cared about his wants and his needs and who didn't care how they were fulfilled. And because it was like that with him, it shouldn't be that way with you."

"Okay. Let's see if I have this straight. Your sex life with Zack was all 'let's fuck and get it over with'. On top of that, he abused you. And you were abused as a child. Am I right so far?"

She nodded.

"And you think that because of all of that it's wrong for you to like rough sex with me?"

"Exactly."

"First off, I resent you comparing me in any way shape or form to Zack."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held his hand up to keep her quiet.

"Second, our relationship is nothing like what you had in the past. We're in love. We're getting married. We're having a family. And we trust each other enough to let things get a little out of hand sometimes. It's not abusive. We're consenting adults and we enjoy it and the first time you say no, is the time I stop. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Third, I know Gus put this in your head. Her and her do you like it 'cause you like it or do you think you deserve to feel pain and be punished and what not. I doubt she meant to insinuate that you're fucked up or you're in the wrong if you do like rough sex. And if she did, it's none of her damn business what we do in our personal life and in our bedroom. For all you know, she could be into rough sex. This crap in your head? This is something you hear from a shrink. This is not you talking."

"So you don't think there's something wrong with me?"

"No. I don't, There's worse things – I mean for Christ's sake, I'm okay with it. You can be sweet, slutty, virginal, whorish, innocent, experienced. I don't give a shit. I like all kinds of sex, Sam."

"You're a guy." She pointed out.

"I'm a guy whose desperately in love with the most amazing woman in the world. And when you analyze shit like this…"

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be apologizing for. I just want you to realize that there is nothing wrong with you. And I just want you to be comfortable with me and the way we are together. Am I making sense?"

She nodded.

He leaned over and kissed her softly.

"I lied to you." She said, looking up into those loving blue eyes.

"About?" Something told Flack he didn't want to know. That whatever it was she was about to lay on him, he'd be wanting to punch another wall.

"When I told you that you and Zack were the only two people I'd ever been with. Sexually."

"Okay…..why'd you lie?"

"Because I don't consider it actual sex."

"You're confusing me again with these riddles, Samantha."

"A long time ago, that Pelham Bay guy that I dated. I was fourteen and…."

"Do I want to hear this?" Flack asked, frowning.

"It wasn't….I was scared and I was worried what would happen to me if I said no."

* * *

He was silent for a few minutes. Forcing himself to stay calm and to not react with anger as the pieces began fitting together. He leaned back against the head board and closed his eyes, his hand softly caressing her forehead and her hair.

"Donnie?" she asked.

He opened an eye and looked down at her.

"I'm sorry." She said, tears welling in her eyes once again. "I didn't want to lie to you. I was just worried about what you'd say. How'd you react. Please don't be mad at me."

"Is that what you think? That I'm mad at you? I don't care about the lie. That's not the issue. You did that to protect yourself and in some way me. I get that. The issue is what happened to you. Did you ever tell anyone that he raped you?"

"I wouldn't say it was rape. I didn't say no."

"You were scared you said. You didn't want to do it. That's rape. You know that."

He closed his eyes again and sighed heavily. Save it for the job, Flack, he told himself. This isn't business. This is personal and you'll get more out of her if you're calm and composed and supportive.

"I'm sorry." She said again.

"You know what? Stop….." he heard the harshness in his voice and immediately toned it down. He opened his eyes and looked down at her and saw the tears sparkling on her eyelashes. He sighed and sat the bottle of water on the table and then lifted the covers and moved down the bed to lie down on his side, facing her.

"Come here." He said.

She slid herself across the bed, snuggling into him, her stomach pressed against his chest.

He wrapped his arm around her and held her tightly. "Stop apologizing to me, Samantha. You have nothing to be sorry about. Am I the only person you've told this to?"

She nodded. "The only one."

"Not even your mom or Clint or even Adam?"

"You're the only one, Donnie. And I needed you to know before I became your wife and had your baby. You understand, right?"

"Of course I do. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"You know what the Pelham Bay gang was like back then. I'm sure your dad told you all about them. And I'm sure you've dealt with the new breed. I was scared what they'd do to me."

"What about now? You could press charges now."

"I'm not telling you this so you can go out and arrest someone and exact revenge. I'm telling you this because I love you and I couldn't become your wife keeping it inside any longer. This is just between me and you, Donnie. This has nothing to do with the job. As much as I know you'd like nothing better than to bust this guy's head open…."

"I was thinking of something far more violent and painful, actually…."

"It wouldn't solve anything. You know that. It was a long time ago. And last I heard he'd turned his life around and had made a name for himself and put that kind of lifestyle behind him. He was just some punk ass kid back then. Us freaking out and causing problems for him won't do us any good."

"So he just gets away with it? Like he's been doin' for fifteen, sixteen years?"

"Can't always catch the bad guys, Donnie." Sam reasoned.

He shook his head. That was the most screwed up reasoning he'd ever heard. Someone like that deserved to be punished. Regardless of how long ago it was.

"There's more." She said, her face buried in his neck.

"Isn't there always?" he retorted, a little harsher than he intended.

She lifted her head and drew back to look at him. A frown on her face.

"Sorry. That came out the wrong way." Flack said and kissed her forehead.

She settled back down, her head tucked into his neck, hair tickling the underside of his chin. Her arm draped over his side.

"So what is it?" he asked, his fingertips drifting up and down her back and across her shoulders.

"After that one time, I refused to do it ever again…."

"Good."

"And that's when all the problems started. He decided that sex was the be all and end all of the universe and couldn't live without it and dumped me and started all kinds of nasty rumors about me being a slut and so on and so on. And then found someone to give him what he wanted."

"What girl in their right mind would be with a loser like that?"

"It was Erica."

That was not the response Flack had been expecting. "Come again?" he asked.

"Erica. My cousin."

"Same cousin that is now with Danny?"

Sam nodded.

"Why the hell would she mess with a guy like that knowing what he was saying about you?"

"She said if I had have just given him what he wanted…."

"Sam, I mean this with all due respect to you and Adam and your mother, but you're family is seriously fucked up."

She couldn't deny that.

"And this is the kind of woman Danny is mixed up with? Why am I getting the feeling he's going to get seriously screwed over? Like being with another Monroe."

"She's not like that now." Sam said defensively. "It was so long ago. We were teenagers and she was all into hanging out with the wrong crowd and drinking underage and doing drugs and sleeping around. But look at her now. She's done well for herself and she loves Danny and they seem incredibly happy. There's no reason to overreact about something that happened years ago and make things tough for her and them."

Flack just sighed. He had no idea what to say. And all this information she'd laid on him was swirling around in his head and making any reasonable thought nearly impossible.

"So now you know my whole sordid, fucked up life." Sam said with dry laugh.

"Good thing we're starting a whole new life then, isn't it." Flack stated.

She smiled against his neck and he kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold on her.

"Thank you." He said. "For trusting me enough to be honest and up front with all of this."

"I should thank you. For listening and understanding and not freaking out."

"I'm trying to turn over a new leaf." He informed her. "Be more understanding and supportive and less controlling and bossy all the time."

"Bossy and in control is good sometimes." She said.

"Yeah? What times are those?"

She grinned and kissed the hallow of his throat and slid her hand along his side, onto his stomach and then lower.

"Those are the best times of all." He said and she looked up at him and he kissed her.

"Make love to me, Donnie." She said quietly, her hand coaxing him effortlessly into an erection. "Slow and gentle and everything I need you to be right at this moment."

"I'll be anything you want." He told her and rolled onto his side, opening the top drawer on the nightstand and grabbing a condom package from the box stored in there.

"I only want you to be you." She told him.

He smiled and kissed her softly.

"I kinda like this one handed thing." she teased, taking the condom package from him once again and tearing it open. "I get to have a little more say in things."

"Don't get used to it." he said. "In six weeks things go back to normal."

"Pity." she said and pouted dramatically. "Something kinda sexy about doing this for you."

"No one said you were normal." he joked and then groaned at the touch of her soft hands as she smoothed the condom onto him.

"I should punish you for that."

"You've got a whole life time to do that. Right now, we do things the right way." he told her, and taking her leg, laid it over his thigh, eased into her slowly, a little at a time. Watching her face and her eyes fill with desire and hearing the soft moan that escaped her lips.

"Everything's going to be okay, Samantha." he kissed her forehead and her nose and both her eyes and cheeks as he moved inside of her. "We're going to be okay. I promise."

She didn't doubt that promise for one second.

* * *

Samantha dozed. She seemed excessively tired lately and caught up on sleep whenever she could. Flack lay beside her on his side, running his hand over her hair and her shoulder and watching her sleep. The way her long dark eyelashes fell on her pale cheeks and a soft smile curved her lips. She looked so peaceful and happy and angelic. So pure. How one woman could be so troubled one minute and so loving and sweet the next remained a mystery to him. All he knew was that he loved her and was looking forward to being a father and spending the rest of his life with her.

Now if only Zack's ghost would leave her alone so she could start a new life. Because Flack was sure that until she could put everything that happened in her past, both with Zack and her real father and this first boyfriend, there was no way they could have a relatively normal life together.

His head ached from thinking too much. And his hand was throbbing. Who knew such a small fracture could cause so much damn pain. He closed his eyes and contemplated calling the duty captain and saying he wouldn't be back in for the rest of the day. He wanted nothing more than to just lie there and hold her and love her all afternoon. But being the number one name on Gerrard's shit list was never a good thing and word was going to trickle back to Flack Sr about what a fuck up his son was acting like and then Flack Jr would never hear the end of it.

He sighed and opened his eyes and untangled himself from Sam's arms and legs. Carefully and quietly slipping out of bed and heading to take a shower.

Samantha was just stirring when he came back into the bedroom and started getting dressed again.

"What time is it?" she asked in a small voice, rubbing her eyes and yawning noisily.

"Almost quarter after three. Go back to sleep. You're tired and you need all the sleep you can get."

"I'll go back in a while." She said and sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. "You showered? Did you remember to wrap a bag around your cast so it wouldn't get wet?"

He nodded. "I had to shower. Sweating like that."

"Best exercise in the world." She giggled. "You should have woken me up and I could have taken one too."

"We'd still be in there and I'd never get back to work." Flack told her.

"And that's a bad thing?" she teased.

"I could have used your help. Not easy trying to wash your hair and all that with one hand."

"I'm a very good back scrubber." She said, smiling flirtatiously.

"You're very good at a lot of things." He told her with a wink. "Just in case all the noise I was making didn't all ready tell you how good you actually are."

"It was very good for my ego. At least I know you're enjoying yourself.

What time are you on to?"

"Unless all hell breaks loose in this city, I should be off no later than six, seven."

"We have to be at the sign up thing for those pre-natal classes at seven thirty." she reminded him.

"That's tonight?" Flack frowned. "I thought that was next week."

"It's tonight. Remember? We have the first class next week."

"I need to write all of this down. My brain does not function that good to just remember."

"You've lost all your brain cells having too much sex. A man looses so many brain cells every time he comes apparently."

"In that case, I'll be comatose about a month from now." Flack joked.

"Good thing they rejuvenate themselves." she laughed. "Or you'd be in big trouble. Do you just want me to meet you at the Y or…"

"You nuts? You're not taking the subway alone. I'll be here at seven to pick you up."

"Please don't bring your girlfriend." She quipped.

"Funny." Flack said with a smirk. He went to the bed and leaned over to kiss her. "I gotta go. Someone has to make a living around here."

"Thank you for lunch." she said with a giggle.

"Best lunch date ever if you ask me." Flack told her. "You need anything, you call me. Okay?"

She nodded.

He kissed her again.

"You never told me how your appointment went." Sam commented.

"It went okay. It was interesting. I was thinking about something. The therapist made me realize that a lot about what you said the other night was true and that I never realized those things about myself." He was struggling trying to do his tie up with one hand. In fact it was impossible.

"We all have issues, Donnie. You're not a bad person because of it."

She got up onto her knees and moved to the edge of the bed and then climbed off.

"Could you not have put some clothes on?" Flack asked, trying to look at the naked body in front of him as she easily, and expertly did up his tie for him. There was something so affectionate about the simple gesture that made him love her even more.

"You usually don't complain." she retorted, smoothing the tie down and straightening his jacket.

"I usually don't see your goods when I'm running late for work." He pointed out

She picked the discarded t-shirt up off the floor and pulled it on. "So this therapy thing…"

"Sorry. You have this way of distracting me. I was thinking when he was talking today that maybe me and you going to therapy would be a good idea."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"He mentioned that maybe I should bring you to the next appointment and I came to the conclusion that it's a good idea. That it wouldn't hurt or us to sit down and talk to someone impartial. So if he can narrow things down that we can work on. Help us make things better."

She cocked her head to the side and eyed him suspiciously. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. I just…..I want things to work between us, Sam. Death do us part and all that other shit. And I think that seeing someone and getting them to point us in the right direction is a good idea. I told you. I'm turning over a new leaf. Or trying to. I'm thirty years old. I'm not some single guy anymore. I'm gonna have a wife and responsibilities. And I'm going to be a dad. And whatever I can do to make me better for both of you, I am willing to do it."

"Whoa….." she said. "Who are you and where did Don Flack go?"

He smirked. "I'm serious, Samantha. What do you think? You think it's a good idea? That it will be good for us?"

"I think that you've taken a huge step by making a decision like this. And I'll go with you. For you and for us and for our baby."

"Thank you." he said and kissed her sweetly. A kiss that soon went farther and deeper than he'd initially planned on making it. But damn, she was just too hard to resist. And once again, he considered calling the duty captain and saying he was taking the rest of the day off.

His cell phone, now sitting on the nightstand, rang noisily. Bringing an abrupt end to any thoughts of intimacy.

"Better not be your girlfriend." Sam said as he went to fetch the phone.

"Let that go before I put you over my knee and spank you." Flack told her.

"Promises, promises." Sam said with a sigh and grabbed the now lukewarm glass of milk and sipped from it.

"It's just Danny. Probably got some evidence for me or wants me to pick someone up or get a warrant. I'll call him back in the car." he kissed her cheek. "Gotta go. Serve and protect and all that other bullshit."

"It's what they pay you the big bucks for." Sam said, following him out of the bedroom and down the hall.

"My bank account begs to differ."

"That's because you have a very expensive fiancée." Sam pointed out.

"Wouldn't give you up for anything. But I hope you'll still love me when we're living in a box behind Saks because you spent all my money."

"Hmmm…..I may just have to trade you in for some Wall Street man in Armani suits and Bruno Magli shoes."

"Sam, a guy like that would not know what to do with you."

"Neither do you sometimes." She laughed, as he clipped his badge and holster to his pants.

"Please. I know exactly what you want and need and how to do it for you. Didn't I prove that to you twice today?"

"Once more would have convinced me."

He grinned and headed for the door. "You'll be the death of me, woman."

"You'll die happy." She said and unlocked the door and opened it for him. "Be safe." She said as he stepped out into the hallway.

"I will. And put some pants on before the old guy next store comes out here and she's your bare legs and has a heart attack."

"I think all the noise we made was enough to do that." she laughed.

"Be good. No wild parties or anything."

"You mean no body shots with hot Latino strippers? Talk about ruining my fun."

He grinned and kissed her once more. "I meant what I said earlier. About not thinking there's anything wrong with you. And if you ever want to go after that guy…"

"Please let that go, Donnie. I only told you because I thought being honest was the right thing to do."

"You're right." he said. "It is. I just hate thinking some guy got away with that."

"Lots of people get away with lots of things." she said.

Flack couldn't argue with that.

* * *

Danny met Flack outside the lab. Danny had the warrant to search a storage facility in Washington Heights belonging to a suspected perp in a months old case, but needed a little back up. Wasn't safe going anywhere alone these days regardless of your gender. And Mac was enforcing a strict rule that no team member went to perform interviews or searches alone.

"Where you been for the last two hours?" Danny asked as he slid into the passenger's seat and did up his seat belt. When Flack was driving, you always wore your seat belt. And prayed you got wherever you were going in one piece. Damn good driver. Awesome driver, actually. But he was crazy sometimes. And now that he was driving with one hand, Danny was even more cautious.

"I went home for a little bit." Flack replied, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb and into traffic.

"Why?"

Flack just smirked.

"You two make me sick." Danny declared.

"Hey, I haven't had any for five days. Five days, Messer. May as well be a lifetime. I had some down time and I went home and made up for my suffering a couple times."

"You two are like goddamn rabbits. You guys are gonna end up with like five, six kids."

"Not such a bad thing." Flack said.

Danny stared at him. "What is wrong with you? Seriously. From wanting no kids to wanting a whole litter? Are you sick or something?"

"Always figured if I ever found someone that I loved enough to marry and have kids with, I'd want a big family. You don't ever want to have kids? You and Erica are living together and all that. Don't you think about having kids with her?"

"Erica and I are happy with things the way they are. We are safe sex advocates."

"You never want kids?"

"Someday."

"You ain't gettin' any younger, Messer."

"So says the one with all the grey hair."

Flack smirked. "You're going to wake up an old man one day Danny and no one to take care of you."

"Hey, when I'm eighty I plan on having four twenty year old wives to take care of me. I'll be doing just fine."

Flack just shook his head. "Where's Max? Thought for sure she'd be tagging along."

"She's doing some paper work Gerrard wants. And is sulking about some thing between her and Sam. What's that about?"

Flack shrugged. "I wasn't there. Hey, you happen to know anything about that Pelham Bay guy Sam dated when she was in high school?"

"Nope. And she doesn't talk about it either."

"Erica's never mentioned him?"

Danny shook his head.

"Do you know any of them from back then? Maybe you and Louie may have had run ins with them or something?"

"I never ran with Louie and the Tanglewood Boys except for that one night, remember? Best person you could ask would be Louie himself. Want his number? You can give him a call?"

"Not that important." Flack said. "Just thought maybe you knew some of them."

"Sorry. What's this about? Checking up on your girl? Doin' some detective work?"

"Nothing like that." Flack said. "I was just curious. Sam mentioned some things today and I just wondered what this guy's story was is all."

"Why? What do you care what she did back in high school?"

"I don't. I'm just curious what this guy is all about. I can't be curious?"

"Not saying that. I'm just saying what's the big deal about her dating some Pelham Bay loser fifteen, sixteen years ago?"

"Look Danny, if you knew what…..you know what? Never mind. It's none of your business. Just thought I'd ask."

Danny watched his best friend as he drove. He knew there was more to it than Flack was letting on. And that it wouldn't do any good to push him about it.

"If you want," Danny said. "I can call Louie later and ask some questions. See if he remembers any of the Pelham Bay guys from back then."

"Don't worry about it." Flack brushed it off.

"I can go into the system, see if any of them have a record." Danny offered.

Flack sighed. "How about you try and ask Erica about it?"

Danny frowned. "What's the suppose to mean?"

"Nothing. But she knows all about this guy and you should ask her."

"How's she know him?"

"Ask her Danny."

The CSI nodded. "I ain't gonna like the answer she's gonna give am I?"

Flack had no response to that.

And he had no idea why something that happened so long ago seemed to matter so much.

**Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of you and look forward to your reviews and PMs!**

**I am plugging every story that belongs to each and every one of you that has reviewed!**


	73. When it rains, it pours

**Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.**

**HAPPY CANADA DAY TO ALL YOU CANUCKS READING THIS!**

**This is dedicated to all of you who love long chaps.**

When it rains, it pours

"She's the sunset's shadow,  
she's like Rembrandt's light  
She's the history that's made at night  
She's my lost companion,  
she's my dreamin' tree  
Together in this brief eternity  
Summer days, winter snow  
She's all things to behold  
She's my kind of rain  
Like love from a drunken sky  
Confetti falling down all night  
She's my kind of rain."  
-She's My Kind of Rain, Tim McGraw

* * *

**A/N: I just want to thank each and every one of you that have supported me and this story and helped me reach the 500+ reviews mark. I never dreamed that this story would be as popular as it is and touch so many people. Updates may slow down a bit. My son is out of day care for the summer and he's my main priority. But I promise I will work deligently at this story and try for once or twice a week updates. Hope everyone understands and keep reading!**

**Much love to all of you**

**BEG 75**

* * *

"Therapy?" Carmen asked, helping herself to a bottle of water from an artfully arranged table of canned and bottled drinks and trays of fresh fruit and veggie and dip located at the front of the crowded conference room.

"It's what he said." Sam replied, flipping through the information package handed to her the moment they walked in the door.

There were two and a half dozen couples gathered in the room for the sign up and introductory to the pre-natal classes, and Sam was somewhat flustered at the thought of being the only one there without a husband or boyfriend.

Flack had called a half an hour before he was suppose to pick her up with the news that he was stuck at a last minute crime scene with Max in Far Rockaway and didn't see himself getting away from work anytime in the near future. She could tell by the reluctant, wary tone in his voice that he was expecting a freak out on her part, but she'd surprised him, and herself, by accepting the news graciously and telling him to be safe at work and that if he was that late to wake her up when he got home if she was sleeping so she'd know he'd made it in okay. And then finished the call with a sincere I love you.

She figured if he was trying to turn over a new leaf, she may as well, too. And part of that was accepting how stressful his job was and how important of a service he preformed and that sometimes, unfortunately, she had to take a back seat to his career. He'd been understanding and caring and patient that afternoon while she talked about her past, and the least she could do was return some of that.

She still couldn't help but be a little pissed. She had been looking forward to having some couple time. They didn't seem to get enough alone time that was outside of the bedroom. They tried going on dates like a normal couple. The movies and dinner and walks through Central Park and even a couple Mets games complete with concession stand food and Cracker Jacks. But dates always seemed to be interrupted by his cell phone going off. Hell, even bedroom time had a knack of being interrupted mid session. She always thought that because she was in the same field, it would be easier accepting the role as a cop's wife if she ever decided to settle down with one. Turns out, she still worried endlessly and prayed that that one horrific phone call would never come and was filled with enormous relief when he walked in the door safe and sound at the end of a shift.

But that's what happened when you loved someone. Love outweighed logic and reasoning sometimes. And she wouldn't change that out of control feeling for anything in the world. She just hoped it would always stay that way. That that kind of love wouldn't diminish over time.

"Why does the thought of Flack in therapy make me want to piss myself laughing?" Carmen asked, handing Sam a can of apple juice.

Flack had called her, their designated labour coach -how and why she'd ever agreed to being in the room during the delivery and guiding Sam through the experience she'd never know- and asked her if she wouldn't mind filling in for him at the sign up/information session. Carmen had just gotten home from her own long shift and had planned to take a steamy bath and the curl up on the couch with something to eat and a glass of wine or two. But with Speed working nights for the next couple of weeks, she found herself lonely and with no desire to be on her own, and being with her best friend and future niece or nephew was the next best thing.

"He is the last person you'd expect to be cooperative." Sam said. "But surprisingly enough, it was his own decision."

"Something tells me that your guys' little fight the other night may have played a small part too." Carmen told her, as they stepped in line to sign up.

"Maybe." Sam agreed. She had told Carmen bits and pieces of their argument and Speed had filled in the rest when Carmen arrived home from work. "And I think maybe the therapist said something today that may have got him thinking about some of the things I said."

"Well personally, I think it takes a big man to realize there's things he needs to change. And if he's willing to try therapy in hopes of it making things better between you guys, than he obviously loves you more than you give him credit for."

"Since when are you on his side?" Sam only half joked.

"I think sometimes you're a little quick to jump to conclusions and a little too harsh on him. He's been single for a long time and things happened pretty fast between you guys and it has to be overwhelming for him. He'd never admit to it, but I bet you the idea of getting married soon and having a kid is scaring the shit out of him."

"You're right. He'd never admit to that. And I can't believe you think I'm too harsh on him and that I over react about things." Sam said, sounding hurt.

"Sam, you know I love you and you're my girl. But that's the way I see it. You nee to cut the poor guy some slack over this Max thing. I wouldn't be too happy either if Tim worked with someone he had a past with, but you go a little overboard. You know he loves you and adores you and you should also know that he'd never do anything as stupid as cheating on you. He'd loose everything and he knows it. And he doesn't want that happening. Trust me."

"I can't believe you." Sam huffed.

"What? What did I say?"

"Siding with Max! Thanks Carmen. Makes me feel real great."

"What? I am not siding with Max. I barely know her. And when she tried talking shit about you to me and Hawkes today, Hawkes and I knocked her back a bit. I just think you need to relax a little bit with Flack. He's trying Sam. He really is. And you should trust him enough to know he'd never fuck you over."

"Well let's just hope that no one from Tim's past never shows up. I wonder how'd you'd be reacting to that? Bet it would be different then."

"There you go with the over reacting again." Carmen said.

"Oh whatever." Sam snapped. "Go be friends with her if you like her that much."

"Sam, come on. I never…."

"Good evening ladies." A bubbly blond greeted the two young women as they stepped up to the registration table. "Welcome to our orientation session. If you'll just sign your basic information on that clipboard there and include all the names of family members or friends who may at one point accompany you to classes. And if you'll make yourself some name tags, you can start making some new friends…"

"Don's going to shit if he finds out he needs to network with people." Sam said to Carmen as the latter grabbed a marker to make their name tags and Sam filled out the information on the clipboard. "He's not exactly Mr Sociable. Hope there's no group exercises. He would not be impressed."

Carmen finished with the name tags and slapped one roughly onto Sam's left shoulder.

"Oww!" Sam complained. "What the hell?"

"Snap out of it! Stop being such a whiny little bitch about this Max thing and get control of yourself."

"You know…." the blond behind the desk said. "I have to hand it to you two."

"What for?" Carmen asked.

"We don't get a lot of same sex couples coming in for our classes. New York City is very diverse and open minded, but we still don't see it often."

"What?" Carmen laughed. "Wait….you think me and her are….oh my God! You are so far off! I'm just her labour coach. The baby's dad couldn't make it so I'm here instead."

"There's no reason to hide it or be ashamed." the woman said. "I think it's wonderful to be in love."

"You have this so wrong." Sam argued. "We are not lesbians. We're friends. My husband couldn't make it and asked her to come in his place. That's all. We like men. We love men. I got pregnant by a man. The old fashioned way. And he's a hot, hot man at that. I am not a lesbian and neither is she. At least I don't think she is."

Carmen frowned. "Very funny."

"I'm sorry." the woman appeared sheepish. "I just assumed…."

"Well don't." Carmen said and she and Sam headed for some empty seats. "Can you believe that? I mean, no offence, Sam. You're hot and all that, but I'm just not into you in that way. Curious sometimes maybe…."

Sam's eyes widened. "I will try and pretend you never said that." she said, sinking into one of the chairs.

"But not curious enough to say hey, let's see if we like it. But if I was a lesbian, I would so corrupt you. You'd never want to go back to Flack ever again."

"I doubt that. He knows exactly what he's doing and does it very, very, very well. Mind you, it would so turn him on to hear you talk like that. You know, he told me today, right before we were about to do things, that me and you are his ultimate wet dream."

"I'm flattered. Tell him I said the three of us should…"

"I don't think so." Sam said.

"Relax." Carmen laughed. "I'm joking. I'd never poach your man just to see if his tongue is as talented as you say it is."

"That I do not exaggerate about." Sam declared. Then suddenly turned serious. "When you were with Matthew and hanging around all the Tanglewood guys, I'm sure you witnessed some run ins with Pelham Bay boys. Right?"

"A couple? Why?"

"Do you remember a Pelham guy named Evan Lucerno? He was a few years older than you and Matthew. Him and Sonny Sassone used to be after each others asses all the time for one stupid thing after another."

"Hmmm……rings a bell. Really tall? Well built? Kind of shaggy blond hair and hazel eyes?"

"That would be him."

"What about him?" Carmen asked.

"That was my first boyfriend. My gangster boyfriend." Sam rolled her eyes at the word gangster.

"Really? You had good taste even back then. Why are you bringing him up now?"

"My cousin Erica ran into him about two weeks ago. He's some big player on Wall Street now and has really transformed himself. And for some idiotic reason known only to her, she gave him my phone numbers. Work, cell, you name it."

"Uh-oh." Carmen said.

"Exactly. He's been trying to contact me since. He's left messages on my cell phone and at the lab."

"What does he want?"

"He says he wants to touch base. Catch up."

"After what? Sixteen plus years?"

"I know. Nothing but trouble can come from this. He knows that I'm having a baby and getting married. So I don't know why he's so insistent about meeting up with me. That part of my life is so far in the past."

"Did you tell Flack?"

"I told him about Evan and I a long time ago. I didn't tell him about Evan trying to contact me."

"Smart move. One busted hand is enough." Carmen said. "Seriously though, you should mention it to him. In case this guy shows up at the lab and they run into each other accidentally. That would not be pretty."

"No," Sam sighed and sipped her juice. "it would not. Why can't things ever go nice and smooth for us?"

"You and Flack are not meant to have things go easily and smooth. It's what makes your guys' connection so strong. That you have to work so hard all the time. Makes you guys realize how much you love each other and support each other. "

Sam grinned. "Boy, you are on a roll tonight with the relationship advice."

"I am in rare form." Carmen agreed. "But you should tell him. Before he finds out in some crazy freaky way. Like the guys shows up at the door with flowers and candy."

Sam shuddered at the thought of what reaction that would bring about. "That would so not be a good thing. Don would kill him."

"He was honest with you about Devon calling him all those times." Carmen pointed out.

"True. And we haven't heard from her since, thank God. She probably found some other blue coloured guy to torment."

"You'll tell him? About this Evan guy?"

Sam nodded. "I'll tell him." she said somewhat reluctantly.

"Good. Because you don't and you'll cause yourself a world of hurt, trust me. I picked something up for you today."

Sam's face brightened. "Presents? I love presents."

"Nothing major. Just a little something I saw passing by this store on my lunch break." Carmen dug around in her cramped, over flowing hand bag and came up with a small velvet box that she presented to her friend. "I thought of you when I saw it." she said.

Sam took the box and opened the lid carefully. Inside, dangling from a thin gold chair, was an oval shaped blue cameo pendant, inside of which was a silhouette of a mother holding a child. It brought tears to Sam's golden eyes.

"Carmen, it's beautiful. Thank you." she leaned sideways in her chair and hugged the other woman.

"I know how much this baby means to you, Sam. And with all the suspicions of problems, you love it no matter what. And I want you to know that if there is something wrong, you and Don can count on Tim and I to support you guys. And we'll the baby no matter what. I know it's been tough. Having that on your mind and not being able to do anything about it."

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Carmen. For being there for us. We do appreciate it."

Carmen smiled. "I know." she bent down and put her face close to Sam's stomach. "Do you hear me in there you spoiled rotten little shit? You're more like your mother than you realize. Your daddy spoils her, too. " she rubbed her friend's tummy and sat back up. "Getting bigger there, mommy." she teased Sam.

"Don't remind me." she sighed. "None of my normal clothes fit anymore."

"Hey, no bitching. You guys had fun, pay the price. I hope you realize how much he loves you and this baby."

"I do. But something tells me I need to tell him that more."

"Even guys need to know their appreciated some time. He may be all tough and macho, but I'm sure you'd make his day if you did tell him. Boost his ego a bit."

"Trust me, Don doesn't need an ego boost. There is nothing wrong with that man's ego. But you're right. I should tell him. I have a lot to make up for."

"Shit, we all do. We've all made mistakes in our relationships. It's just acknowledging it and fixing it before it's too late that really matters."

Sam nodded. And decided there was no better time to start repairing things than the present. She took out her cell phone and turned it on and sent Flack a sappy, short and sweet text message.

A small start was better than no start at all.

* * *

The rain hammered down. Noisily pelting the windshield of Flack's unmarked squad car, the wipers working frantically to keep the glass clear of water. So strong and so hard that it sounded as if hail was hitting the roof and the hood. Thunder rumbled and lightning slashed the pitch black sky. It looked like midnight but was only twenty to eight.

Flack sat behind the wheel with the engine running and head cranked and radio on. Waiting for Max while she grabbed them some coffees and something to eat at the deli across the street before they made the pilgrimage to Far Rockaway. Surveillance. Until seven thirty in the morning. Flack was not impressed. All day long they'd done nothing but sit on their asses with no calls and no new leads in old cases. And an hour before clock out, a tip came in that someone was harbouring a wanted a suspect. There were two plain clothes sitting by the house for the last three hours and nothing.

Max was taking a hell of a long time. He could barely see through the driving rain, he thought he could make out crowds of people in the deli. He'd brought along a book for such moments. And for when he got sick and tired of staring at some guy's house and decided to let Max play captain of the watch.

He was almost done the fifth chapter when the passenger door opened and Max, drenched from head to toe, sat the drink carry tray and bag of food on the dash before climbing in. He didn't look up but did lean forward to turn the heat up even more for her.

"You're doing coffee run next time." she informed him, running her hands through her hair and squeezing out excess water.

"Can't get cast wet." he responded.

"Lots of good you'll be if you can't get out and chase a perp."

"Don't worry about me, Max. I'll be out the door and down the block before you get one foot out the car."

She snorted. "You mean you actually know how to read?" she asked, nodding at the book.

"Yep. I happen to be one of the few literate cops. And unlike you, I prefer books without pictures. And I was going to bring the Karma Sutra to read, but I've gone through it about ten times and my wife says I'm a God when it comes to those things so I've since retired it."

"You wish, Flack." Max said, grabbing the bag and digging through it. She took out a neatly wrapped sandwich and a bag of chips and tossed them in his lap.

"You always seemed to enjoy it. You remember how amazing I am, don't you, Max? You certainly never complained. Begging is more like it."

Max felt herself blush furiously at his words, and at the memory of what had taken place between them. And that he wasn't exaggerating in the slightest.

Flack folded the corner down on the book and tossed it onto the dashboard. Using his left hand for everything was proving to be more awkward and uncomfortable as he imagine it would be. He had to reach across his body to take out the coffee cup from the tray. Never mind dressing or starting the ignition on the car or something that required the right hand or two good hands.

Max picked up the book and studied it. "The Expectant Father?" she smirked. "Why the hell are you reading this?"

"Hmm….maybe because I have a kid on the way in less than five months." Flack said, sipping the steaming coffee.

"Don't be so sarcastic." Max said, "You would think getting laid this afternoon would have put you in a better mood."

"Who says I got laid?"

"You were gone for two hours and when you came back you had that goofy grin on your face that men get when they just got lucky."

"Don't be so jealous, Max." Flack said, setting the cup in the holder by his seat.

"What's there to be jealous of? You're dysfunctional relationship?"

"Why don't you…." the sound of his cell phone beeping cut the words off. He took it from the pocket of the NYPD windbreaker he had on and checked the display. An incoming text message from Sam.

I JUST WANTED U TO KNOW THAT I APPRECIATE U BEING THERE FOR ME. IT MEANS A LOT THAT I CAN OPEN UP TO YOU. THANKS FOR BEING SO SUPPORTIVE. ME AND THE BABY MISS YOU AND LOVE YOU AND HOPE YOU STAY SAFE.

A huge smile spread across his face as he read it to himself.

"You make me sick." Max complained, knowing what that smile meant and who that message had come from. "You two are pathetic."

"Is it my fault you've never been in love, Max? Remind me to call her later after that pre-natal thing. So I can tell her how late I'm going to be."

"You have to check in every now and then? Please."

"So she doesn't worry." Flack corrected her, putting his phone back and then switching the car in drive, barely able to see the oncoming cars through the rivers of rain. "What is up your ass, Maxwell?" he asked as he pulled out into traffic.

"My ass? What is up your girl's ass? She all but attacked me at the precinct today when I was sitting at your desk."

"She's protective. And why were you at my desk? You've got your own."

"That's not the point. The thing is she seems unstable. I was just minding my own business and she started in on me about staying away from you and watching what I was doing and all this other crap. You need to reign her in, Flack. Keep better control of her before she gets hurt."

Flack couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Before she gets hurt? Max, pregnant or not, she could take you outside and fucking school you with one hand tied behind her back. So don't be making threats when you can't back them up."

"Why is she picking on me?"

"Why are you picking on her is more like it. What did she ever do to you? You don't even know her and you're talking all kinds of crap about her to people. Carmen and Hawkes? Not smart. And you won't be winning any Brownie points with me talking shit about my wife so knock it off."

"I'm trying to be her friend."

Flack snorted. "Sure you are. You gotta hell of a way of going about it."

"She started in on me. Just because she doesn't like the idea of us working together, doesn't give her the right to be like that."

"Max, she's almost four months pregnant and majorly hormonal. Not to mention we've got some stress with the baby right now and…."

"What kind of stress?"

"None of your business. I'm just making a point that she's dealing with a lot and I want you to back off and stop antagonizing her. She doesn't need that kind of crap and I'd really appreciate if you'd lay off of her to other people."

"I just can't believe you'd be with someone like that." Max huffed.

"You wanna get out and walk? 'Cause I'll pull over right here and you can walk your ass back to the station or all the way to Far Rockaway."

"Never imagined you'd be with someone so high maintenance." Max said.

Flack saw red and cast a quick glance through the rear view mirror. Making sure traffic was clear, he signalled and steered the car through two lanes of traffic before pulling to a screeching stop at the curb in front of a bodega and putting the car in park.

"Get out." he said simply.

Max stared at him. "You can't be fucking serious."

"I am. Dead serious. Get out. Go back to the precinct or find your own way to Far Rockaway. I don't care what you do. Just get out."

"You're fucking crazy, Flack. I'm not getting out for you or anyone else. Now quit being a prick and lets get to the job already."

"Then you listen to me, Max, and listen to me good. I am not going to just sit here and listen to you run your mouth off about my wife, a woman you don't even know. You don't have the right to pass judgement on her, so get the fuck out or shut your trap. Got it?"

Max blinked at the vehemence in his voice. "Got it." she practically squeaked.

"And another thing, who did you imagine I would be with? Someone like you? Give me a fucking break. You don't even know her, Max. You don't know what her life has been like or what her life with me has been like. She's got issues. No one is denying that. But she's an amazing woman and she's the mother of my unborn child. I love her in ways I never thought I could love someone. So do me a favor and back the hell off."

"You sentimental bastard. Defending your woman's honor."

"Max….." he warned.

She held her hands up in self defence.

Flack shook his head in disgust and put the car back into drive and his foot back onto the gas and started on the way once again.

"Think you could ask her to extend the same to me?" Max asked.

"I'll think about it." he replied.

"'Cause Daria really, really likes her and I think it would be nice if Daria knew your kid, Flack. Or kids if you guys plan on having more. We have to work together and it would be a lot easier if Sam and I could at least attempt a friendship."

"So you actually do know her name." he quipped.

"I'm serious. You think you could pass that along? Help me out a bit here? Help Daria out? She'd love to get to know Sam."

Flack sighed. "I'll try." he said. "But I'm not promising anything. Sam's a big girl and makes her own decisions. If she wants nothing to do with you, you have to accept that and leave her alone from there on out. Can you do that for me?"

I can do a lot for you, Max thought.

"Sure." she replied.

"I'm serious, Max. Don't cause anymore shit."

"I won't. I'm not out to hurt anyone."

Just out to protect myself, she thought.

* * *

Shortly after nine on that stormy evening, Samantha and Carmen met up with Gus at Infusions, a small, quaint coffee bar a block from the YMCA that specialized in exotically flavoured coffees and rich, sumptuous desserts made right on the premises. Customers could either lounge in brown leather couches and easy chairs or at individual tables adorned with vanilla scented pillar candles and fresh flower arrangements. Warm laughter and light conversation drifted over top of soft jazz and adult contemporary music piped in through over head speakers. Stella was a regular, and had recommended the spot for their newly organized girls night out. They'd met there twice already and tried to plan for once a week.

They found Gus alone,taking up residence at one of the couches near the back. Sipping a large porcelain mug of double espresso, extra foam and nibbling almond biscotti as she waited for her friends.

"Leave some for us." Carmen joked, shaking out her umbrella before collapsing it and laying it against the wall beside the couch.

"Get your own." Gus laughed. "Look at you two drowned rats. You guys could have called me to come and pick you up."

"We thought we wouldn't drown taking the subway." Carmen said, waving a waitress over. "We were wrong."

"Stella can't make it," Gus told them, as Samantha took a seat beside her and Carmen collapsed into the nearby easy chair. "Mac needed her to stick around and help Hawkes on a case. Erica is running a bit late but she's on her way. How'd the first night of pre-natal classes go?"

"There wasn't much to it." Sam said. "Just signing up and getting to know other couples and getting a suggested reading list and websites to look at. And everyone thinks that Carmen and I are a couple."

Gus arched an eyebrow.

Carmen nodded in confirmation. "And Sam decided that she wants to give birth in a tub at the hospital."

"Come again?" Gus asked.

"Water birth." Sam told her excitedly. "It's wild. In one of them Jacuzzi type tubs. Apparently the jets hit all your pressure points and relax you and give you natural pain relief. And considering I can't have an epidural because of the tattoo on my back, I will take pain relief whatever way it comes."

The waitress came to take their orders. Carmen ordered an extra large black and a slice of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. Her usual order. Sam asked for a milk steamer with caramel flavoring and strawberry cheesecake.

"And it looks really cool too." Sam continued her tale. "We watched a video about it. I so want to try it."

Carmen eyes widened and she put a finger to her temple and made a circular motion. She's crazy, she mouthed to Gus.

"Something tells me Flack is not the type to go for something like that." Gus said.

"Does he have a choice?" Sam laughed. "I think not. He merely participated in the making of this child. I have to carry it for nine months and get fat. He's done his part."

"That's the best part of all." Carmen told her. "He gets to have his fun and let you deal with the pain and suffering afterwards."

"Yeah? Well he can dream on if he thinks he's not doing three am feedings and changing shitty diapers. I didn't make this kid on my own so I am not taking care of it on my own."

"You know he won't be like that." Carmen said. "He's going to be hands on. He'll be the falling asleep on the couch with the baby on his chest type."

"Is it just me or is that such a cute image?" Gus asked. "Big strong guy, tiny little baby."

"Makes me all warm and tingly inside." Carmen said.

"Really?" Sam asked. "In that case, you and Tim should…"

"Not that warm and tingly." Carmen stopped her.

"You know whose really good with babies and kids?" Sam asked. "Adam."

"Adam?" Carmen responded. "Adam who?"

"My brother, Adam. When we were in Arizona, we had neighbours on our street with kids and he

used to be out there playing with them and chasing them around. The kids would come to our house and ask if he could come out to play. And he was a teenager and they were barely ten. Other parents would recruit him to babysit. He's a natural with babies. So I have no doubt he'll be a great uncle."

"Are we talking about the same Adam?" Carmen asked. "As in your younger brother Adam? Lab tech Adam?"

Sam nodded. "He's going to be a wonderful dad one day."

"Are you taking notes, Gus?" Carmen asked. "This is from a very reliable source?"

If anyone had ever suggested marriage or kids with any of the previous men she'd been involved with, Gus would have been horrified and told them to bite their tongue and that they were insane. But thinking about Adam in that light, as a husband and a father, filled her with such warmth and hope.

And love.

"Hey, guys." Erica greeted as she appeared at their sides. "Raining like hell out there, huh?"

"When it rains it pours." Gus declared. "Trouble getting off shift?"

"Danny made me dinner and we started talking and time seemed to get away from us." Erica shrugged out of her Stella McCartney trench coat and shook it out before hanging it on a nearby hook. "You guys mind if I borrow my cousin for a second? I just need to talk to her about something."

"Sounds serious." Carmen said. "Everything okay."

"Of course." Erica chirped cheerfully, although her stern voice indicated she was anything but cheerful. She was doing her best to hide how furious she actually was. "Sam? Five minutes?"

"Sure." Sam said and stood up, then found herself nearly dragged off by the elbow to the back hallway that led to the washrooms. "What's your issue?" she asked, yanking her arm away.

"My issue?" Erica seethed. "What is your issue! What did you tell Danny about Evan Lucerno?"

"What? Nothing. I wouldn't talk to Danny about personal stuff. Why?"

"When I got home from shift, I barely got my foot in the door and he was on me about what my history was with a Pelham Bay guy. What did you tell him?"

"Nothing." Sam insisted. "I don't talk to Danny about stuff like that."

"Well he knows somehow that I messed around with a boyfriend of yours years ago. How'd he find out about that?"

"Look, I told Don about what happened and he must have told Danny. I don't think he intended to cause you and Danny problems. And if it did, then Danny needs to get a grip about something that happened way before you met him."

"You should have just kept your mouth shut, Samantha. Why'd you tell him anything?"

"Ever heard of honesty, Erica? Don and I have been going through some heavy shit and we're trying to get back on track. And being honest, about everything, is one of the things we both need to concentrate on. He's going to be my husband and I talked to him about things in my past that were bugging me."

"Bugging you? Bugging you? Get a life, Sam. That was sixteen, nearly seventeen years ago. You'd think I'd murdered someone you loved. I slept with your boyfriend. Big fucking deal."

"It was a big fucking deal to me, Erica. You knew what he was saying about me and you still messed around with him. Thanks for being so goddamn loyal to your own flesh and blood."

"You and I were two totally different people back then, Sam. You were half hell raiser, half straight A, goodie two-shoes girl next door student. And I was…."

"A slut?" Sam offered.

"Maybe if you were more of one back then you wouldn't have had the problems you did. You don't have a problem jumping into bed with some guy you barely know now and getting knocked up before you barely know anything about him."

Sam shook her head. "You're reaching there, Erica. You really are. I didn't see you saying no to Danny on your second date. Or moving him into the place you shared with your ex husband. Wait, he isn't even your ex yet, is he? Because you and I both know the divorce isn't even final and you've soaked him for half of everything and moved your new boyfriend in. So don't go passing judgement on me."

"You always were a nasty little bitch, Samantha. Which is why you couldn't keep Evan or Zack happy. They couldn't put up with your bullshit and taught you a lesson. And guess what? When Don gets over the novelty of being in love, he's going to wake up and see what you're really like and I hope he gets the hell away from you and fast."

"First off…." Sam jabbed her finger into her cousin's chest and backed her up against the wall. "Zack was a certified nut job that came to New York to abduct me and do God knows what to me. He beat me and degraded me and made me feel worthless and was letting female motorists off for traffic violations if they gave him head. You know nothing about Zack or my hell with him because while you've been living the high life off your rich husband, the rest of your family has had to sacrifice and put up with shit just to get by from day to day."

"Spare me your poor little girl speech, Samantha. I don't see you suffering now."

"Second, you have no idea what went down between me and Evan and I won't even bother trying to explain it to you because you're incapable of admitting your wrong. And third, and let me make this part very, very clear to you. If you fuck Danny Messer over in any way like you're known to fuck over most of the men you're with, you'll be wishing you never met him."

"Cut you tough girl crap." Erica snorted. "This is exactly why I never bothered with you when you left New York. Too much goddamn drama."

"Well you don't have to bother with me now that I am back in New York." Sam told her, backing away.

"Grow up, Samantha. Is someone like Evan really worth loosing your family over?"

"You apparently thought so sixteen years ago." Sam said and headed down the hall, leaving her cousin standing there, staring after her in shock.

* * *

Three a.m. Thankfully the thunderstorm had passed. The rain had ceased and the wind had stopped rattling the windows. Leaving a cloudless, black sky with a half moon and thousands of twinkling stars behind. The temperature had dipped even lower and without the engine running, Flack and Max were relegated to shivering in their seats.

"My ass is getting sore." Max complained, yawning noisily. She'd been on watch for an hour now while Flack, his seat as far back as it could go, legs stretched out, was relaxing with his eyes closed.

No sign of their suspect. No sign of anything whatsoever as a matter of fact. No lights or movements inside of the house.

"Get out and stretch your legs." Flack suggested.

"And risk someone coming out of there and seeing me. I don't think so."

"Face it, Max. We're going to sit here all night with no action."

"Back seat action is good too. " she joked.

He snorted. "Only in your wildest and wettest." he said.

"Hey, remember that time you and I…."

"No." he answered quickly. He wasn't in the mood to be taking a trip down memory lane, especially when it was a topic he had no intention of conversing about. Or actions he was considering repeating. On top of it, he'd forgotten to bring any pain meds and the cold and damp was causing his hand to throb like a bastard.

His cell phone, resting on the dash rang noisily and his eyes snapped open and he checked his watch. He frowned, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as he leaned forward and snatch his phone. Only time a call came in at that time of the morning was when it was bad news. He checked the call display and was filled with the worst sense of dread.

"Fuck…" he muttered and pressed talk. "What's wrong?" he asked in way of answering. "Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

Beside him Max cleared her throat and rolled her eyes.

"Good morning to you too." Sam's sleepy voice said.

"Are you okay?" Flack asked.

"I'm fine."

"No cramps or bleeding or…."

"Donnie…" her voice was quiet and soothing. "I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep so I thought I'd phone you and see how things were going."

"They're going. Slowly. Nothing's come up yet. Are you sure you're okay? Why can't you sleep?"

She yawned noisily. "I feel weird." she said.

"What do you mean you feel weird? In what way?"

"I thought I was having hunger pains so I got up to eat something about two hours ago. And these pains went away after I ate but came back again when I lied down. And it's been on and off since."

"What kind of pain?" Flack asked.

"Weird pain. And not really pain. More like sensations."

"Well what do they feel like? Help me out here."

"I don't know. I guess it feels like fish swimming around. Or butterflies. Yeah…..butterflies is a better word for it."

A grin spread from ear to ear when he realized what she was talking about. "Samantha…..that's the baby…..he's moving around…."

"What? Can't be. The book said that wouldn't happen until sixteen weeks."

"What the book says is that that's the most common time to feel kicking. Between sixteen and twenty one weeks. Hawkes told you that some women, especially really tiny ones like you, can feel it sooner. Like that lady on the 'net that said she felt her second kid at ten weeks."

"You think that's what it is?" she asked, excited despite how tired she was.

"I think so." Flack replied.

"Hmmm…..not what I expected it to feel like."

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Stronger I guess. Like real kicks."

"Baby's still tiny, sweetie. You'll be feeling it for real when you're farther along."

"You mean when he's playing soccer with my bladder and making me piss my pants?"

"Exactly. Then you'll be wishing he'd calm down for a bit. I wish I was there to go through this with you."

"I know. But you've got to keep the city safe and sound. And I don't think you'd be able to feel much of anything anyway."

"Still…." Flack said.

"You're okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm good. Especially after this. Make sure you write down the date and time and all that in that book I bought you. That pregnancy moments book."

"I will." she assured him and yawned noisily. "Well now that I heard your voice and I know everything is okay, I am going to go to bed."

"Okay…. I'll be home when I can. I love you."

"I love you, too." she said. "Good night…"

"Good…..wait….wait…don't hang up….you there?"

"I'm here." she said.

"Do me a favor. Put the phone to your stomach and…"

"You won't be able to hear anything, Donnie…"

"Just do it." he said. "Humor me."

She sighed. "Fine. Give me a second. You are so weird sometimes."

"You love me." he said.

"Okay….go ahead….."

"Listen you little shit, stop bugging your mom and go to sleep so she can get her rest."

Max stared at him like he was crazy.

"Happy?" Sam asked. "You made the pain come back."

"Kid recognizes my voice all ready. He knows who the boss is."

She laughed lightly. "Whatever. Can I go to bed?"

"I really do wish I was there, Sam."

"Stop being such a sap before you make me cry. I'll see you when you get in. Wake me up, okay?"

"Okay." he said. "Get some sleep."

"I will." she told him and hung up.

Flack was still grinning when he hung up his own phone and tossed it on the dashboard. "What?" he asked Max when he noticed the way she was looking at him.

"Nothing." she replied, deciding it was best to keep her mouth shut. She reached for her own phone and in the process, knocked his onto the floor of the car between them. When it hit, it bounced and went under his feet.

Flack turned sideways in his seat and leaned down to fish his phone off the floor. He managed to get a hold of it, and when he started to sit up, noticed that Max had bent down to retrieve it as well and their faces were a mere inches apart.

She laid her hand on the side of his face and leaned in even closer.

He jerked back when the realization of what she was attempting hit him. Pulling away so quickly and forcibly that he smacked the back of his head off the driver's side window.

"Fuck!" he bellowed and grabbed the back of his head.

"You okay?" Max asked, reaching for him to check his head.

"What the fuck was that?" Flack snapped at her. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, Don…..I…."

"You're sorry? You tried to kiss me!"

"It was a moment. The way you looked at me…."

"I didn't look at you in any way. What is your issue? What more do I have to say to you, Max? I'm not interested! I've got a wife and a kid on the way!"

"I'm sorry. I just thought maybe…"

"Well you thought wrong. Don't ever do that again! Don't ever even think about doing it again. Understand me?"

Max felt herself flush from head to toe and tears well in her eyes. "I said I was sorry."

"You should be. I'm serious. Don't ever try anything like that again."

"What? Afraid you'll like it?"

"You know what!" Flack snatched the walkie talkie from between the seats and radioed dispatch. He'd had enough bullshit for one night from Emma Maxwell. Ten minutes ago he was elated that his kid kicked for the first time and now this. Too much.

"What are you doing?" Max asked.

He gave his location to the dispatcher and requested a squad car come to his location to transport his partner back to the precinct. And to bring a back up detective from the twelve.

"You can't do that!" Max fumed when he was finished.

"Yeah? Well I just did! You're done, Max. For tonight at least. And if you try anything like that again, you'll be done for good. Understand me?"

She nodded and sunk into her seat.

The worst ending to an even worse day.

* * *

It was shortly after ten in the morning when Flack finally dragged himself into the front door of his apartment. He and Scagnetti, who'd replaced Max, had managed to get away from the surveillance at eight in the morning when their relief showed up. But paper work and an explanation to Gerrard why he'd yanked Max off the job had earned Flack another two hours of work.

And he had to get up at four p.m. and be ready to go all over again for seven.

Samantha was in the living room. Sitting cross legged on the couch in a pair of white girl's boxers with Care Bears on them and one of his t-shirts. Eating a gigantic bowl of Lucky Charms. A huge glass of orange juice on the coffee table in front of her as she watched Maury Povich. The show was her addiction.

"Good morning." he said, bending down to kiss the top of her head.

"You're late." she told him.

"I know. I didn't want to call and wake you up."

He undid his tie and tossed it and his jacket on the back of the couch. He pulled his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it before sitting down beside her.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked.

"Nothing. No sign of our guy." Flack replied. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Any more movement?"

"Not yet. But the day is young."

He cracked open an eye at the sound of a couple fighting on the t.v. "Whose the daddy?" he asked.

"This is the seventh guy tested for this one baby." Sam replied.

"Yeah? And?"

"He says he's not the father. Personally, I don't think he is either. But I could be wrong. Can you imagine? Seven different men? You can conceive four days out of a month. So she was with almost two guys a day."

"That's nasty." Flack declared.

"I promise you that it's between you and only three others." Sam teased.

He frowned. "Very goddamn funny, Ross."

She finished her cereal and juice and put the dishes on the coffee table. Flicking off the t.v., she tucked her stretched her legs out and moved closer to him, laying her head on his chest.

He reached behind him, pulled the throw off the back of the coach and covered both of them with it.

"We should go to bed." she said sleepily.

"We will." he assured her, wrapping his arm around her. His other hand rested softly on her growing stomach. Just in case that kid decided to kick. He didn't want to miss it a second time. Even if she did say he wouldn't feel anything.

"Let's just sit here for a bit." he said. "Okay?"

"Okay." she yawned and rested her hand on his stomach and closed her eyes.

They were silent for a long time. Outside the mid morning sun streamed down and the birds chirped.

"I wanna give birth in the tub." Sam announced.

"Excuse me?" Flack snapped out of his semi conscious state.

"A birthing tub. At the hospital." she explained.

"Why?" he asked.

"It sounds neat." was her reply.

"Doesn't mean we have to try it. Can we talk about this later when I'm not half comatose?"

She nodded. "Or we can have a home birth and switch to a mid wife."

"You know how I feel about that. I want my kid born in a hospital. With doctors and nurses right there in case something goes wrong. The tub thing…..we can talk about that. But later, okay?"

"Later." she agreed and snuggled into his chest.

"Anything else I need to know?" he asked.

"Yeah……I love you."

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too." he said and closed his eyes once more.

They'd stay there until well into the afternoon.

**EmSyd: **_Welcome to my baby! I hope you keep loving it  
_**Aphina: **_did the cold shower help? LOL. Sam's revelation was a last minute add on. And Danny and Flack…no one can ever have too much Danny and Flack.  
_**Hope: **_thanks for all your help with that talk. I appreciate it. We're finally getting to understand why Sam is the way she is sometimes. And Flack is growing up fast.  
_**Mauveine: **_better late than never. I love your reviews and they're well worth the wait  
_**Blue: **_Was it smutty enough? LOL. I am glad you enjoyed it  
_**Laplandgurl: **_Flack and Pelham will meet up in an odd, coincidental way. And if you ask me, us Canadians need more holidays.  
_**Soccer: **_My faithful! More to come!  
_**Maddy: **_More Erica to come. And I am trying to get more into Flack and his thoughts and struggles. Not always easy with him  
_**much madness: **_Intense Flack. I love intense Flack. And he'll be even more so when he meets the Pelham Bay guy. Let's just say he's a relative of someone from Tanglewood in season 1  
_**Brrtmclv**: _that alert thing was a pain in the a We found each other at least. I needed oxygen just writing that part. Lots more to come  
_**ImasupernaturalCSI: **_That Pelham kid is going to hate being himself when Flack gets to him  
_**Eva: **_Flack sure has a way with words. LOL. And yeah, the way he loves her….it's the kind of love we all wish we had but seldom find. I know, corny. I stole that line from James Cameron when he was talking about Jack and Rose in Titanic. LOL._


	74. On the Couch

**On the couch**

"It's hard lovin' a man that's got a gypsy soul  
I don't know how you do it  
I'm not sure how you know  
The perfect thing to say to save me from myself  
You're the angel that believes in me like nobody else  
And I thank God you do  
'Cause when I'm a bullet shot out of a gun

When I'm a firecracker coming undone  
When I'm a fugitive ready to run,  
all wild-eyed and crazy  
No matter where my reckless soul takes me  
Baby you save me

I know I don't tell you nearly enough  
That I couldn't live one day without your love."  
-You Save Me, Kenny Chesney

**A/N: I just want to thank my son's speech pathologist, whose husband is a therapist. He specializes in grief counselling, but he was able to give me a rough outline of what he knows goes on in couples counselling here in our city. So I just went with his suggestions. So any flames, send them straight to him, okay?**

**And Happy Fourth of July to all my readers from the USA! **

* * *

They were the only ones in the spacious, well decorated waiting area at Doctor Masterston's midtown Manhattan office at nine thirty in the morning the following Wednesday. Flack looked around at the tranquil baby blue walls and the plush navy carpeting and light wood chairs with white and blue upholstery and the gigantic aquarium in the far corner that boasted expensive looking fish of all sizes, shapes and colours. He had never noticed all of that his first time there. Maybe because he'd been so dead set against even going that the whole experience from the very beginning had been so negative. But sitting there with Sam, at the beginning of their first day off together in nearly a month, the second time around didn't seem so bad. It wasn't the evil, dark and dreary place he'd made it out to be in his mind a week before.

The only sounds in the room were the clicking of the keys on the computer keyboard as the receptionist worked diligently away and the bubbling of the fish tank and the occasional rustled of paper as Sam flipped over a page in the Pottery Barn catalogue she was browsing through. She'd brought it and the Babies R Us and Petite Tressor ones along for their planned day of baby browsing as she called it. Serious lists and requests were being made now that her lawyer had called two days before to say the settling of Zack's will was going well and to expect a deposit into her account within a week. The house was already on the market with three prospective buyers interested. The car was being shipped the following week, directly in time for moving day into the new apartment. A hell of a house warming gift for Carmen.

"Think this place is decorated like this for a calming thing?" Flack asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

The one thing he liked most about being with Sam was that neither of them ever felt obligated to engage in nonsense chit chat. Other women he'd been with, he'd always felt he had to say something all the time. Compliment them on how they looked -which he'd already done twice since she'd walked out of the bedroom that morning-or comments about the weather or what they were into. With Sam, if he didn't have anything to say, that was perfectly fine. She didn't expect an on going conversation when they were together anyway.

Sam looked up from her magazine. "Hmm?" she asked, not fully comprehending what he was actually saying to her.

"This waiting room. Light blue walls, soft lights, blue carpet. Fish tank. You think they did things like this on purpose or accidental?"

She often wondered, when he came out with something to say out of the blue, just what was going through his head. And this one of those times.

"I mean, it's a shrink's office, right?" Flack continued. "Think he deals with some high strung people that he feels he needs to calm down before they get into see him or do you think he just went with whatever looked good, not thinking about the whole therapeutic thing?"

"I think you've been watching too much TLC and those Trading Spaces and Flip Your House shows." she replied.

"I'm serious. Is blue not suppose to be a soothing colour?"

"Suppose to be. Do you feel at all soothed or calm?"

He shrugged. "Not really." he replied.

"Then it's not working." she said.

Flack frowned and wrapped his right arm around her, cast on his hand and all, and pulled her sideways into him. "Okay, smart ass." he said and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Just answer the question. Think it was intentional or just kinda ended up this way?"

"I think someone has a serious thing with the colour blue." Sam replied, straightening out her glasses that he'd nearly knocked off her face. "And that fish tank bubbling like that is making me want to take a nap."

"A nap? You just got up an hour and a half ago. And you went to bed at eight o'clock last night and didn't get up until eight this morning. Not to mention you snored like a goddamn freight train and hogged all the covers."

"We do have a couch." Sam reminded him.

"Yeah. We do. So next time sleep on it."

She elbowed him in the stomach.

"Joking. Just joking." he laughed and kissed her temple. "Seriously though, all this blue…."

"Don, drop it. I am so not having this conversation."

"Oh I'm sorry. Does it bug you that I'm being the intellectual one for once?"

Sam snorted and held the catalogue up for him to see, pointing to a picture of a nursery decorated in soft pastel colours, cherry wood furniture and Winnie The Pooh bedding. It was the bedding she was actually showing him.

"Oh hell no." Flack said.

"Why not?" Sam asked. "It's adorable."

"You are not doing my son's room up in that. Look at it. How girlie it is. No way."

"It is not girly. It's babyish. And that's what we're having. A baby. And no one said it's going to be a boy. Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?"

"Sam, that is the most girlie thing I've ever seen. And by chance we're having a boy, you are going to give him a serious complex by letting him sleep in a room that's meant for a little girl. Can't you pick something that doesn't have flowers and rainbows and a cat and a pig on it?"

"First off, this is Classic Pooh by Disney. And second, that is Tigger and Piglet I'll have you know."

"We can't talk about the blue room but we can talk about Walt Disney characters? Now that's a conversation I want to be part of."

"There is nothing wrong with Winnie the Pooh." she informed him.

"For someone elses kid, fine. Not for mine. And this time you are not getting your way."

She pouted dramatically and flipped through the catalogue once more. "You always have to be so difficult." she huffed. "What about Care Bears?"

"Are you insane? Seriously. You must be insane."

She sighed. "Teddy bears?"

"Samantha…."

"Fine, fine. Nothing too cutesy."

"It's not that. I just don't like Winnie the Pooh or Care Bears. Except for those pyjamas you have. Those are just damn sexy. And Teddy Bears? Come on. Can we go with something that isn't so common? A little different?"

"How about…..Noah's Ark?" she held the book up for him to see once more. "This is a five piece set and comes with the bumper pads and the mobile and everything."

"Bumper what?"

"Pads. Bumper pads. Jesus, Don, where you born on earth? The things that go along the crib so when the baby rolls over he doesn't whack his head and what not off the wood. Anyway, this set comes with everything we need to go in his, or her, bed. We can get it at Pottery Barn. On Second Avenue. We can also get something I really, really want there, too."

He smiled at the excitement in her voice and the way her face lit up and her eyes sparkled whenever she spoke of the baby or the plans she had. They had managed to push the negative thoughts to the back burner for now. Regardless if there was a problem with the baby or not, it still needed all the things every baby needed. And deserved.

She showed him another picture. This time a white wood rocking chair with a blue and white gingham cushion.

"Won't match all the other stuff you want." he commented. "Even the crib is natural wood."

"I don't care. This is the one that I like. It reminds me of my grandmother. She had one just like this and I used to sit and watch her rock Adam to sleep and listen to her sing. She used to sing this lullaby to him all the time. All Through the Night. Have you heard of it?"

Flack shook his head. It was rare that she spoke of her family outside of her mom and Clint and Adam. And only the fourth time since she'd known him that she'd spoken fondly about a childhood memory. And judging by the emotion that crept into her voice and how misty her eyes got, it was a hell of a treasured memory.

"She used to sing it all the time. I'm going to sing it to our babies, too."

He smiled and drew her into him once more and kissed her cheek softly. "You rarely talk about your grandparents. Just that time we were out with Danny and Erica and you talked about a grandmother in Albany. And you've mentioned Clint's parents in Flagstaff."

"Nana and papa. They accepted Adam and me like we were blood relatives. And my grandparents in Albany were my father's parents. This is my mom's mother. Her and my grandfather lived in New Jersey. They were originally from Brooklyn and retired to Garden City. She had a rocking chair just like this. I can still see her sitting in it with Adam. She probably even rocked me in it. I want one just like it."

"Then we'll get you one." Flack told her. "If it means that much…."

"It does."

"And are your grandparents still in Jersey?"

"They died in a car accident when Adam was ten and I was almost fifteen."

"I'm sorry." he said, and rubbed her shoulder softly.

"What about you? The only grandfather you've mentioned is the one on your mom's side. And he died three years ago."

Flack found it so odd that there they were, engaged to be married in three months, a baby on the way, and there were so many little things that they didn't even know about each other. Things had happened so quickly and unexpectedly and the truth of the matter was, although they were madly in love, they barely knew each other.

"My grandmother died when I was seven of uterine cancer. My grandfather never remarried and threw himself into his job and taking care of their eight kids. He didn't have time to do anything else other than work and be a father. And my grandparents on my dad's side are back in Ireland. They moved back there when their kids were grown and out of the house. I called them last month and told them about us. And the baby."

"You did?"

He nodded. "So expect all kinds of knit blankets and clothes in the mail when it gets closer to your due date. My grandma is a lot like your mom. Maybe one day, we can go and visit them."

Sam smiled. "I'd like that. I've never been outside of the United States."

"Me either. So it'll be a first time for both of us."

"Long time since I've lost my virginity in anything." Sam quipped.

Flack couldn't help but burst out laughing at the candid comment.

"It's true." she said laughing as well. "Did you grandfather never want to meet someone else or was it just because he didn't have time to meet someone?"

"He told me he'd already had the best so why should he settle for anything less."

Sam considered that answer. "Would you ever get married again?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"If something happened to me. Would you get married again?"

"Don't talk like that. And we're not even married yet."

"So when we do get married. Would you get married again if something happened to me?"

He sighed. "Why are we talking about this?" he asked.

"It's a simple question, Donnie." she retorted.

"No. Okay? No. I wouldn't get married again. It's a one time thing. I'm only doing it once. And if something happens to you, then I plan on living my life alone and pining away for you. I wouldn't get married again. Date, maybe. But married? No."

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why wouldn't you get married again?"

"Because I love you and only want you. Not someone else.."

"I wouldn't be angry if you found someone else." Sam said matter of factly.

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Flack asked irritably. "How'd we go from talking about the baby to talking about you dying?"

"I'm just saying that it's not a bad thing if you met someone else and you fell in love and wanted a life with them. I wouldn't be upset and haunt you or anything. I mean, you're human and you need someone to…."

"Samantha, I love you. And you're going to be my first, and only, wife. Okay? We're going to grow old and grey together and have grandkids and great grandkids. So drop it."

"I'm just saying that you wouldn't be a bad person if….."

"Drop it." he said sternly. Then softened his tone and added: "Please." It irked him that she had a penchant for fatalistic talk when things seemed to be going smoothest. He was a 'the glass is half full' person while she looked at it as half empty.

"And while you're at it," he said "think about calling your cousin. Danny's been on my ass for a week because you won't return any of Erica's calls."

Sam sighed and went back to her catalogue. "I'll think about it." she said.

"Look, I don't know what you two had a fight about, but whatever it is, she obviously feels bad about it and is trying to make an effort to patch things up. Things can't be that bad that would make you want to cut off all contact to your own cousin. Especially when you guys just got close again after so long."

"It was bad enough." Sam said, roughly flipping a page in the catalogue.

"She's your cousin. Nothing can be that bad."

"You've never fought with any of your family?" Sam asked pointedly.

"Sure. There's been times I wanted to kill my brother. But he's still my brother regardless of what a jack ass he is and I'll always have his back. Just like Erica is still your cousin and I know for a fact you want her in your life. In the baby's life."

Sam sighed heavily and closed the magazine and stuffed it into her tote style purse. "Why do you always have to be right?" she asked.

"It's not that I'm always right. I just tend to be the more sensible one. Remember what I told you about my theory of higher education, less common sense?"

"You're pushing it today." She laughed and yanked the Petite Tressor magazine from her purse.

"What's taking this guy so long? It's like waiting to see the principal."

"You spend a lot time outside the principal's office did you?" Sam asked with a grin. "All those times you thought you could see through girls' skirts and the nuns caught you?"

"That. And the fact I used to skip school all the time and mouth off to the teachers when I did manage to find my way to class."

"Why am I not surprised?" Sam laughed.

"Apparently they didn't appreciate my sense of humor." Flack said. "I used to do some crazy shit and get in all kinds of hot water with the old man. This one time, my brother and I decided we needed a morning pick me up so before we left the house we filled two thermoses with orange juice and like four shots of vodka in them. Only problem was, my brother has never been able to hold liquor of any kind and he was shit faced by second period. So he gets called down to the principal's office. Mr Turner. He was this tiny, skinny guy with thick glasses and bushy hair and a Scottish accent and he was a tough sonofabitch. As soon as he threatened to call my old man, Chris ratted me out. Said it was all my fault. I was seventeen and he was fourteen and in grade nine so naturally, I was the bad influence. My dad…..he lost it 'cause he had to leave shift to come and get us 'cause my mom was fed up with our shit and wanted us tossed in juvee. He put the beats on my brother something fierce when we got home."

"What did he do to you?" Sam asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Hit me once and I laid him out. Right in the middle of the kitchen floor. One shot. Boom. He woke up two hours later with a busted nose and never touched me again."

"And you left shortly after that?" Sam asked, hating the sadness and darkness that had come into his eyes.

He nodded. "Day after my eighteenth birthday I went and lived with my grandfather. Smartest thing I ever did. I would have went nuts if I'd stayed around my dad. I was a huge disappointment to him."

"Why? You became a cop and carried on the family name?"

"Guess he felt I was destined to do more. That I was so much better than police work. He never even showed up to my graduation from the academy. Hell, he never even showed up when I was on my death bed after the bombing."

Sam's heart ached for him. She'd seen that troubled, despondent side to him before. The night he came home from telling his parents about getting married and having a baby and broke down in front of her. She couldn't stand seeing him that way and reached out and rubbed the back of his neck softly.

"Have you ever really thought sitting down with him and just talking?" she asked gently. "No shouting, no accusations, just a talk?"

"I don't know if he'd listen."

"You don't know until you try. Just a simple 'dad, I want to be able to talk to you again. I don't want to hate you, you're my father. I want you to see your grandchild'."

"Trust me, Sam. He doesn't care that we're having a baby. That his first born is having a kid. He just thinks it's a big fucking mistake and nothing will change his mind."

"You don't know that." Sam said. "If he met me maybe he'd..."

"No." Flack cut her off, sounding harsher than he'd intended. "There's no way he's meeting you. I can't do that to you, Sam. I can't. It's better that you never meet him. You or the baby. He doesn't deserve to have either one of you in his life."

"Donnie, maybe you should just..."

She was interrupted mid sentence by the door leading from the waiting room into the therapist's office clicking open and a young couple, no older then themselves, emerging hand in hand, the pretty blond haired wife with her head buried in her husband's arm, bawling inconsolably. The husband looked furious, his lips set in a firm line, his shoulders and back rigid.

Sam's eyes widened at the sight and she looked at Flack.

His blue eyes followed the other couple from the doorway to the office to the exit. He even jumped when the husband yanked open the door and then slammed it hard enough to rattle the pictures on the nearby wall. He looked at Sam, saw the -What the fuck was that?- expression on her face and offered up a small smile.

"I look at it this way," he said. "We'll either come out of this really, really in love, or mortal enemies."

Sam sighed heavily and closed the magazine and put it in her purse.

The receptionist appeared in the doorway in front of them. "Sorry you two had to see that." she said sheepishly.

"Does that happen often?" Sam asked. "Should we be worried?"

"Only if you already have something to be worried about, hun." the receptionist replied. "And the doctor will see you two now."

Flack stood up and offered his hand to his future wife. "Hey," he said, gently assisting her to her feet and leaning over to kiss her softly. "Just remember that whatever gets said in there, I love you and I don't want to die. I want to see my kid born and my thirty-first birthday. Okay?"

"Guess you better watch what you say then." She teased as they headed, hand in hand, for the door.

She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.

* * *

Sitting there on the black leather sofa, the doctor in front of them with his leg over his knee and notepad resting on his thigh and pen at ready, Samantha felt as if she were on complete display. The way that the man was watching her made her feel uncomfortable. As if she were being closely observed and monitored for any simple sign that may suggest she was in dire need of aggressive intervention. Therapy with Gus had been more laid back and although it had taken a while for her to trust and open up completely to a stranger, the modern miracle of it all was that she had poured her heart and soul out to someone she barely knew. Gus hadn't judged her or looked down at her, and although there had been things Gus had said that had disheartened her a little, she'd never been made to feel like some kind of freak for needing help.

But this. This was probably one of the most uncomfortable situations she'd ever found herself in. And after brief introductions an about five minutes of silence and staring, she already felt edgy and defensive. And tried to avoid any wrong moves or eye contact. Instead, she looked around the wood panelled office. At the walls upon walls of medical journals and self help books and the degrees so proudly displayed in gold frames. She thought about her own diplomas back at her parents house in Phoenix, collecting dust in the basement along with things she'd long ago packed away and lost interest. She knew what education she had and how hard she'd worked. She didn't need something to remind her.

Flack sat beside her, his arm across the back of the couch, fingertips just grazing the top of her shoulder, alternating between looking at the doctor who was patiently waiting for someone to say something, anything, while tapping his pen on his note pad, and at Sam who seemed off in a world of her own. Not the right time to go into one of her scattered brained, flighty moments, he thought. Usually she had something to say in a situation. Whether it be serious or totally smart ass.

"Would someone like to begin?" Masterston asked.

"What do you want us to say?" Flack responded.

"Start with what made you realize there was help needed in your relationship."

"I guess putting my hand threw a wall was a sign there was something was really, really wrong." Flack said honestly. "One of the signs, anyway."

"What are some of the other signs?" the doctor inquired. "What are the most common problems in your relationship that cause conflict?"

"We fight." Sam said, finally turning back to face the doctor. "A lot. Constantly."

"About?"

"Anything and everything." she said. "Little things, big things. Things in between. It doesn't matter. He says black, I say white. It's just the way we are. We can't talk properly because nine times out of ten it turns into an argument if either one of us doesn't agree with the other. We're both very stubborn and hate criticism and hate being told what to do even more."

The doctor nodded, writing everything down. "When was the last time you had a fight?"

"This morning." Flack admitted. "Over something really, really stupid. Because last night she asked me to pick up orange juice for her and I picked up apple juice. So it turned into world war three at eight in the morning. It's the pregnancy hormones. She's apparently got massive levels of them. So I kinda get why she is the way she is sometimes. And that sticking up for myself only makes things worse. But when you want to strangle your pregnant wife, that's not good."

"I don't mean to be like that." Sam said in defence of herself. "I can't help it. Sometimes I feel like I'm going nuts because my moods are all over the place. I thought being pregnant was suppose to be this magical, happy time and it's been nothing but aggravation and torment."

"And stress." Flack added. "Lots of stress because there's been some problems and her health isn't good so it's been a lot of stress and worry. We've been been really miserable and on edge with each other. It's not just her. I'm not saying it's just her."

"And this fight, in which you broke your hand, what was that about?" the doctor asked.

"A whole bunch of shit." replied Flack. "You know, one of those fights where both people toss in all kinds of crap just to hurt the other person."

"Do you find the two of you do that a lot when you fight? Say things to intentionally hurt the other person?"

"I don't know if we're intentionally trying to hurt each other." Sam said. "I think we do it as a form of self defence and to protect ourselves. I've never said anything cutting that I've actually meant or I haven't apologized for afterwards. And I'm not the nasty one out of the two of us."

Flack coughed to hide a laugh and shook his head.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Sam asked defensively.

"You are the nasty one." he informed her.

"This coming from the King of sarcasm and cutting remarks." she snorted.

"I've never been that way with you."

"Excuse me?" she straightened up in her seat and moved away from him and fixed him with a cold glare.

"I haven't." Flack insisted.

"Whatever." She said and crossed her arms over her chest, distancing herself from him both physically and emotionally.

"See this is what she gets like." Flack said to the doctor. "If she doesn't like what I have to say, she gets all pissed off and pouts and whines like a little kid. You have to be really, really nice to her and never disagree with her or she makes you pay. For a long time. She never lets it go. Five months from now she'll bring this moment up in a fight just to make me feel like a bastard."

"Maybe because you have a tendency to be a bastard." Sam said.

"We're getting off track." Masterston said. "I'd like to know what the fight was about that resulted in Detective Flack putting his hand through a wall and breaking it."

"He acts like it's the end of the world." Sam snapped. "He broke the bone under his baby finger. Not the whole hand. I know it's painful, but shit, does he need to walk around like he's fucked up his entire hand? This is a guy that had his stomach ripped open in a bomb explosion and nearly died and he can't take a broken bone in his hand? Come on."

"This is why I punch walls." Flack said. "Because of shit like this. 'Cause I can't punch her and never would punch her. What's a guy suppose to do?"

"Not hit things." Sam suggested, as if it was the simplest solution in the world.

"If we could just stay on track." the doctor said calmly.

"We fought because she doesn't like me working with other women." Flack said.

"Tell the whole story." Sam told him. "Not just the parts that make you look good. Because I can handle you working with Stella and Carmen and I could handle you working with Lindsay when she was still here. But Max..."

"For fuck sakes let that go." Flack snapped.

"Whose Max?" Masterston asked.

"Max is my new partner." Flack explained. "Emma Maxwell. She's a friend of mine and..."

"Tell the truth, Don." Sam implored. "What happened to your 'this will only work if we're truthful' lecture you gave me on the way here?"

"She and I had an arrangement." Flack told the doctor.

"They were fuck buddies." Sam interjected. "Plain and simple. And she still wants to be his fuck buddy."

"Who cares?" Flack asked. "I don't want anything to do with her in that way."

"And I'm just supposed to be okay with you working with someone you had that kind of relationship with? Am I suppose to just say to her, 'it's okay, here, have my husband'?" Tears trickled down Samantha's face.

"Why are you crying?" Flack asked, voice gentle and concerned.

Masterston got up and sat his pen and note pad on his chair and went to his desk. Returning with a box of tissues in his hand. He tore out a handful and passed them to Sam with a sympathetic smile before dropping the box between her and Flack and then returning to his chair and going back to his listening, observing and note taking.

"Thank you." Sam said and wiped her eyes.

"Don't cry." Flack said, rubbing her shoulder softly. "There's no reason to cry, baby."

"You wouldn't be happy if I was working with someone I had a past with." Sam told him. "You'd be pretty pissed and ready to kill the guy and you know it."

"I know...but there's no reason to worry about Max. She's not a threat to you or our relationship. I've told you that. I love you. Just you. There's nothing for you to worry about."

"You think that no other man in this free world would be interested in me. That I should consider myself lucky because you're even with me."

"What? I've never said that. Or thought that and I..."

"Well there are other men that are interested in me." she continued "Other men that I could be with and I choose to be with you and marry you and have your baby and you know what? You're the one that is damn lucky to be with me!"

"Samantha, baby, I've never..."

"Like how would you feel if I told you all the times that Speed flirted with me or the chances I had to make a move on him?"

Flack frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Or my ex. Evan. The Pelham Bay guy. He's a big time player on Wall Street and worth tons and he's been trying to contact me for a couple weeks now."

Flack turned sideways on the couch and glared at her "What?"

"That upsets you?" the doctor asked.

"Of course it fucking upsets me." Flack fumed. "She's going to be my wife. She's pregnant with my baby. I'm supposed to be okay with guys hitting on her? Especially while she's pregnant?"

"What makes it any different than how I feel about you working with Max?" Sam asked.

"Because you can trust me." he replied.

"And you can't trust me?"

"Apparently not when it's one of my friends. Your best friend's fiancé. And he's coming onto you? A guy we both work with? And who you went to after our big fight?"

"I didn't go to him. I went to see Carmen and she wasn't there and he was."

"I didn't see you leave. You still hung around to talk to him." Flack made air quotes with his good hand at the word talk. "Or were you doing more than just talk?"

"What?" Look at me, Don. I'm four months pregnant! What is wrong with you? I wouldn't cheat on you. Baby or no baby. I told you that!"

"And I told you I'd never mess around with Max. And I won't. I'd never do that to you. You know that." her rubbed her shoulder comfortingly and lowered his voice. "I love you. You and our baby."

"Let's talk about the history of your relationship." the doctor suggested. "How long have the two of you been together?"

Sam dabbed at her eyes. "A little more than six months."

"Short time." Masterston commented.

"Things happened really quick between us." Sam said. "One minute we were meeting outside the crime lab and the next we were finding out we were having a baby and getting engaged. It's overwhelming. I mean, I love him and I couldn't imagine my life without him, but it's so scary sometimes."

"Sometimes it's like we're strangers," Flack added, almost sadly. "We're getting married and having a kid and sharing a bed yet we don't know each other. And I love her and adore and I don't regret anything that's happened. But yeah, I agree with her. It's scary."

"The two of you are preparing yourselves for huge lifestyle changes and trying to get to know each other at the same time." the doctor said. "Do you both feel you get enough alone time? To go on actual dates? Talk?"

"We could use more of that." Flack said. "Definitely."

"Find a night both of you are off. Take that time to focus solely on each other. No one else matters. Just the two of you. Talk. Ask questions. Find out what makes each other tick. How about past relationships? What were they like? How do you feel they affect you now? Detective Flack?"

"I've never had a relationship that went longer than three months or didn't involve solely sex. I avoided women that I was attracted to on a deeper, more emotional level and settled for ones I just wanted sex from. I didn't want to get attached to someone than deal with all the hurt and emotional crap that came with breaking it off with someone I actually felt something for. Last time that happened, I had a long term girlfriend all through high school and into the academy and I found out she was doing my brother at the same time. Broke my heart. After that, I never got attached to anyone."

Sam stared at her future husband, shocked by his confession. A side to him she never knew existed.

"I used women for sex." Flack concluded. "I am not proud of it. And if Sam hadn't have been the strong, take no shit woman that she is, I probably would have had sex with her and dumped her after a while, too. But I felt things for her I'd been trying not to feel for anyone. And I was tired of being alone and I fell in love with her pretty fast. She's the first woman I can actually say I really love. Unconditionally. No strings attached. For everything she is. It's why I know, even with all our problems, me and her are right. I mean, all I think about is marrying her and having the baby and other babies and growing old with her. It's all that matters to me. Before I was all work and now I'm all her and the baby. She's my everything. I can't loose her."

He wiped at his moist eyes with his bad hand.

Sam let go of his other hand and tucked some Kleenexes into his palm. They smiled at one another and she reached out and brushed his tears away with gentle fingertips.

"Detective Ross." the doctor said. "How about you?"

"Every relationship I've had with men has been horrible. I was abused, pretty badly, as a child, and I tended to be drawn to men that were abusive. One used coercion and threats to get me to have sex with him when I was fourteen and the other cheated on me repeatedly with strange women and got off on abusing me both physically and psychologically. And then I met Don and he was the complete opposite. He's attentive an loving and always compliments me and makes me feel good about myself. He's not perfect and he's the first person to admit that."

Flack nodded in agreement.

"But the way I feel about him? I've never felt that before in my life. Or had anyone make me feel the way he does. And I think that's why I fell for him so quickly. Because it was new and different and so different from what I was used to. So when he gets all protective and jealous, it's just because no one has even been like that with me before."

* * *

"Did either one of you have relationship role models growing up?" Masterston asked after a short period of silence.

"My mom let my birth father use me and my brother as punching bags." Sam replied. "She never stuck up for us because if she did, she got it even worse than us. When my father died and she met my step-dad, she finally found someone that loved her. And us. But by then we had already seen the worse and it's all we really remember."

The therapist looked at Flack.

"My father was a cop. A legend. Well respected on the job. At home he was a bastard. He drank a lot and gambled all the time and beat on all of us and treated my mom like shit. He had no respect of love for her yet she was expected to bow to him. And I promised myself I'd never be like him."

"What about how the two of you handle disappointment or anger or sadness?" the doctor asked. "How do you both cope?"

"Other than punching walls?" Flack asked. "I drink. I drink a lot. And in all honesty, it's not just to deal with things. I do it just to do it. I don't even know why I do it. I'm starting to think I have a problem. With alcohol. A small one, but still a problem."

Sam found herself staring at him again. Shocked at his honesty and frankness in front of a total stranger.

"I don't want to be an alcoholic." Flack continued. "And sometimes I think I'm heading that way and that I won't know how to stop before it's too late. 'Cause I know what booze does to a marriage and a family and I don't want that happening to us. And I'm willing to do anything to stop from being that way. Anything."

"Detective Ross….."

"I used to drink to cope. But I haven't touched even the smallest but since I found out I was pregnant. Everything is about keeping myself and the baby healthy. I wouldn't do anything to hurt the baby. When I'm angry or depressed, I tend to just run away from things. Turn myself off and shut people out. That's my coping skill. I don't plan on going back to drinking like I used to either. I don't like the way alcohol makes me feel."

Silence fell as the doctor hurried to scribble everything down. No one spoke or even looked at each other. Sam self-consciously twirled the engagement ring around her finger while Flack stared at his hands and wondered if the doctor thought he was as big of a bastard as he felt.

"You know what else I'm scared of." Flack suddenly said, causing both Sam and the doctor to look at him. "I'm afraid one day, I'm going to loose it because of all this anger I have from my life and my job and I'm gonna beat the shit out of my wife and my kids. That I'll hurt Sam or whatever kids we have, And I don't want that to happen."

Masterston nodded understandingly. "Anger management will help you deal with your response to anger and stress." he assured the younger man. "We'll make sure you never get to that point. We can find an outlet that you can use to release those feelings. In a positive, non violent way."

"Just please no journals." Flack said. "I am not a journal guy."

"No journals." the doctor assured him. "We can sit down and find something you enjoy and that will help you calm down and relieve stress. Now, at this time, at the end of this assessment session, it's customary for a couple to take a moment to discuss whether or not they want to continue with therapy. Now Detective Flack, you'll have to continue with anger management as per Inspector Gerrard's mandate, but we could schedule couples therapy for evenings or even Saturday mornings."

"We all ready agreed on the way here that we'd continue for as long as you felt we needed to." Sam said.

"I can't give you a time frame on how soon or how long that will be. But I can tell you both that all the problems you are having are easy to work with and solve. I'll help you both learn how to, for not better way of putting it, pick your battles. How to fight fair and clean. Teach you to respect each other and realize what you have together is far more positive than it is negative. You love each other very much. Now it's time to learn how to like each other. And get to know each other."

"Sounds good to me." Flack said. "That's pretty well what we were hoping for."

"As far as alcohol dependency goes, even border line dependency as you described, how would you feel about talking to someone from AA? Maybe a fellow officer whose had a struggle with the bottle. Someone you'd feel more comfortable talking to."

Sam was expecting an angry, negative reaction to that idea from Flack. And for the suggestion that he needed AA. A fuck you, I'm not an alcoholic and mind your own goddamn business type response. Instead, he sighed heavily and thought about it for a few minutes before nodding slowly.

"Guess that wouldn't hurt right?" he said. "What do they say? First step in dealing with a problem is admitting you have one? Something like that."

"I'll contact the organization and see if they can put me in contact with someone you can talk to." the doctor said. "In the meantime, what would work better for the two of you? Weekly? Bi-weekly? Mornings, afternoons, early evenings?"

"We can usually get away easily." Sam responded. "But I think early evenings once a week would be okay. Just not Thursdays because we have pre-natal classes."

"Wednesday evenings, six thirty?" Masterston suggested.

Sam looked at Flack for an answer.

"Works for me." he said.

"In the meantime, before our next appointment, I want the two of you to do a little homework. I want you both, separately, to write down as many things you can think of that you both love about each other, outside of intimacy, and that you hate about each other. Then, when you feel you've finished, maybe give it a few days, I want you to exchange papers and talk about what you wrote. Then come back here and share with me what you learned and how you dealt with it and how you plan on changing the negative."

Masterston stood and went to his desk and grabbed an appointment card from a brass holder. He jotted down the date and time of their appointment an handed the card to Flack as he and Sam got up from the couch.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" Sam asked. "In your honest opinion?"

"In my honest opinion, I see two people who love each other and who can handle anything that's thrown their way. You'll both be fine. As long as your determined to stay that way."

Flack pocketed the card and Sam led the way from the office. Another couple was waiting for their appointment in the reception area. Flack recognized the husband as a senior officer with the ESU. Thankfully, the husband was so intent of calming down his nervous wife that he didn't look up and see Flack there. Because Flack was in no mood to have this guy hunt him down at the water cooler to discuss therapy with him. He was already getting grief from Messer for being a pansy for resorting to talking to a shrink.

"Well," Flack said, as they stopped at the elevator, his hand on the small of Sam's back. "That was…..interesting."

"That's one word for it." Sam said, pressing the down button.

"You okay?" he asked in concern, taking in her sniffling and her blood shot eyes and tear streaked face.

She nodded and wiped her eyes again. "Is my makeup all smudged?" she asked, turning her face up to him. "Do I have raccoon eyes?"

"Nope. You're beautiful. You're always beautiful."

She laughed lightly. "That's it. Kiss my ass now why don't you. Are you mad? For what I said about Speed and Evan?"

"I'm not mad. And you were honest. I'm more upset you didn't tell me sooner. And that Speed would do that to Carmen."

"It happened way before they were engaged." Sam defended her friend.

"And I'm upset that this asshole ex of yours is coming around. Why do you do that, Sam? Keep things from me?"

"I don't mean to. I just get scared of how you'll react. I'd never do anything with anyone. You know that, right? You do trust me, don't you, Donnie?"

"I do. But trust is a two way street and this thing with Max? You need to get a grip on that. I'm not interested in her. In anyone. Just you."

"I'm sorry. Some of the things I said in there….I'm sorry."

She looked, and sounded, as if she were going to cry again, and he frowned and pulled her into him and held her tightly, bad hand in all, his good hand on the back of her head, her face in his chest.

"I just want us to be okay." she said.

"We will be." he assured her. "I promise you. Things will get better. And easier. We love each other and we just have to work on everything else like he said."

"You still want to get married, right?"

"Of course I do. What kind of question is that? Do you?"

She nodded.

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "You know what we need to do tonight?" he asked.

She giggled.

"Other than that. Get your mind out of the gutter. We need to go out. Somewhere nice where we both have to dress up. I'd kill to see you in a dress. Somewhere quiet and romantic. You know, candles, expensive food, wine. Well, maybe not the wine. We'll leave that out. But a date. A real date. No cell phones or anything or anyone interrupting us. Sound good?"

"I'd really like that. Especially the no cell phones part."

The elevator arrived and he let her go they stepped inside and he pressed the button for the parking garage.

"Even dessert afterwards." Flack said. "Whatever you want."

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling and a delicate smile curving her lips. "Whatever?" she asked.

"Anything you want."

"Hmmm….I was craving mint chocolate chip ice cream in the most unconventional way earlier."

He grinned. "Man, when you talk like that, you have no idea what that does to me."

"Oh yes. I do." she laughed.

"First, we go out and we pick out whatever we want for our kid and get the two of you some lunch. Can't starve my wife and first born."

She put her arm around his waist and leaned into him. "I love you." she said. "I know sometimes maybe it doesn't seem that way and…"

"Hey…" he backed away from her and lifted her chin up with a finger. "Don't talk like that." he kissed her softly. "I love you, too. And what's important is that we came here together and we're making an effort. We'll make it Sam. You know we will. It's the only thing that I am sure of. Me, you and our baby."

For the first time in her life, Samantha finally felt sure of something. And of herself.

But couldn't shake the feeling that if something felt too good to be true, it probably was.

**A big thank you to all of you for understanding my RL situation. I appreciate that. And another big thank you for all of you who are reading and reviewing. You guys are the reason I do this. I love doing this story for all of you. And if you keep coming back, I will keep working on it.**

**Hope: **_Maury Povich and those paternity episodes are my guilty pleasure. I just thought it seemed like something Sam may be into. She's got that girly, fun side to her. And Carmen and Sam are always fun to write.  
_**Mauveine: **_Carmen and Sam together is very interesting. Mmmm….my plot bunnies like that idea. LOL. And Flack…..he has his moments that make you go AWWW. Hopefully he'll have more of them.  
_**Blue: **_It gets better for Max. But she does have a serious HATE for Sam at the moment  
_**Brrtmclv: **_Carmen and Sam have a friendship that is both intense and hilarious. The lesbian scene was fun to write. They were going to play up to it but I changed my mind. And I was really unsure about Flack talking to the baby over the phone but it seems to have been popular with people  
_**Forest Angel**: _Sam and Carmen just know how to push each others buttons yet not go too far. We'll find out the excuse he gave for Max in the next chap. And the part with the baby was up in the air right to the bitter end and then I included it.  
_**Eva: **_Thanks for being so understanding. I appreciate it. And Flack and Sam are learning how to be in love and get along. It's what they need.  
_**Soccer: **_My faithful supporter. Glad you like it!  
_**ImaSupernaturalCSI: **_Flack will have some great 'daddy' moments in the common months of the pregnancy. And a tear jerker type when his son is born.  
_**EmSyd: **_thanks for coming back and enjoying! Looking forward to hearing from you!  
_**Laplandgurl: **_How did Canada Day treat you? It wasn't bad here except for some rain and thunderstorms. There's more to come from Erica. They'll make up but there's a price to pay for her being stupid enough to give Sam's numbers  
_**Madison: **_I always look forward to hearing from you. Thank for sticking by me. I hope this chap was okay. I'm not that great with the therapy thing._


	75. Expectations and Preparations

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ALSO DO NOT OWN TAVERN ON THE GREEN, ITS EXECUTIVE CHEF BRIAN YOUNG OR NEW YORK PLAZA FLORIST. SO PLEASE, NO ONE SUE ME.**

**Expectations and Preparations**

"To the teller down at the bank  
You're just another checking account  
To the plumber that came today  
You're just another house  
At the airport ticket counter  
You're just another fare  
At the beauty shop at the mall  
Well you're just another head of hair  
Well that's alright, that's ok  
If you don't feel important, honey  
All I've got to say is  
To the world  
You may be just another girl  
But to me  
Baby, you are the world

You think you're one of millions  
but you're one in a million to me  
When you wonder if you matter,  
baby look into my eyes  
And tell me,  
can't you see you're everything to me."  
-The World, Brad Paisley

* * *

Three hours later, following lunch and an exhausting afternoon of visiting every baby boutique and department store on Sam's must see list and coming away with a staggering amount of shopping bags and lists of items they still needed, and wanted, they found themselves pulling into the NYPD parking lot adjacent to the lab. Gerrard had called Flack's cell phone twenty minutes before, while they were on their way home and Sam was drifting off to sleep in the passenger's seat, demanding paper work he wanted on his desk ASAP when yesterday he'd said there was no rush for it.

"What happened to our no cell phone policy?" Sam said with a teasing grin as she unclasped her seat belt.

"After this, that's it." he promised. "No cell phone for the next ten hours at least. I'm on call as of midnight, remember?"

"So what's the chances of no one being murdered at any time after midnight?" Sam wondered, grabbing her purse from the back seat.

"I'd say slim to fucking none." Flack said and got out of the SUV. He pocketed his keys and went around to the passenger's side and opened her door and offered his hand in order to help her out.

"You're on your best behaviour this afternoon." Sam said with a smile and took his hand and jumped down. "Lookin' to get lucky or something tonight, Detective Flack?"

"I'm optimistic." he said and kissed her gently.

Hand in hand they headed from the parking lot and down the short expanse of sidewalk to the front entrance of the lab. Despite the hectic business of spending money they didn't really have (at least until that money from Zack came in) and looking through store after store and making detailed list after detailed list, they found themselves a hell of a lot happier and relaxed than they had been walking into that therapist's office that morning. The appointment had opened their eyes to reasons behind why they were the way they were, and coming clean about everything had cemented the belief that honesty was indeed the best policy in their life together. In anyone's life for that matter.

Flack realized that he had been taking her for granted. That he'd just assumed no matter what shit he dumped onto her, she'd still be there. Her walking out and her confessions regarding Speed and her ex had made him realize that she was more than capable of leaving and finding someone to take his place. She just chose not to go that route. And he was in fact damn lucky to have her.

Sam realized that she hadn't fought fair at all. She said mean things without thinking of the consequences. Or about who she hurt. She'd been so busy letting Zack haunt her that she hadn't been able, or willing, to see what kind of man she had in front of her. She hadn't let herself just enjoy being with him and or let herself feel the things she'd been so desperate to feel for so long. She'd been so intent on finding his faults instead of focusing on all the wonderful traits he had. Worst of all, she'd compared him to Zack. And that wasn't fair. In fact, it was plain mean and she felt like shit because of it.

She was also emotionally drained and wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed for a couple of hours before their big date. It had been a long time since they'd gotten through an actual night out without being interrupted. And an even longer time since she'd been wined and dined. The last time that had happened was the very first date she'd had with Zack. When all that mattered to him was making a great first impression and then sucking her into his drama.

She scolded herself for thinking about Zack. And made a pact with herself to force every thought of that man out of her mind. For good.

"Sam!" a tiny voice shrieked from down the sidewalk. "Sam! SAM!!"

"Daria Maxwell!" Max's voice boomed over the other noises on the busy street.

Sam inwardly cringed at the sound of that voice. She had promised Flack in a conversation over lunch that she'd give Max a chance. That she'd play nice with the other woman for the sake of a positive work environment. But she couldn't hide the fact that she still wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with the idea of Max working with Flack and that she was completely accepting of their former 'relationship'. But she was going to try the friends route. For him. And he accepted that maybe, just maybe, Sam Ross and Emma Maxwell were just not meant to be friends. You couldn't be friends with everyone. But co-existing peacefully was a happy alternative.

But the sight of that little blond haired angel tearing down the sidewalk with an ecstatic smile on her face and her little arms outstretched was enough to cause Sam to break into a broad grin. Daria was absolutely adorable and Sam had heard from Flack that the little girl talked about her and their McDonalds 'lunch date' constantly to her mother.

And Sam got a little enjoyment over the idea that that probably pissed Max right off.

"Sam!" Daria squealed and attempted to vault herself up into Sam's arms, only to be intercepted by Flack who scooped her up into his strong arms. "Hi, Uncle Blue." she greeted. "Don't want you to hold me. I want Sam to hold me."

Daria had been calling him Uncle Blue from the day she was old enough to properly pronounce the words. And he'd spent time at Max's place and taking Daria places to make up for the lack of a father figure in the little girl's life. But those days had passed and he had no intention going back to them now that he had his own child on the way.

"I can't hold you Daria." Sam said. "I'm sorry."

The little girl pouted.

"Not that I don't want to." Sam quickly added. "It's just I'm having a baby and it might hurt the baby if I pick you up and that wouldn't be a good thing. I'd be sad."

"So would I." Daria agreed. "You be sad too, Uncle Blue?"

"Very sad." Flack said.

"Where's the baby? Can I see it?" Daria asked excitedly.

"The baby's in my tummy so you can't see it right now. But I promise when he's born, you'll be one of the first to see him. And after he's born, I'll be able to pick you up. Okay?"

"Okay." Daria agreed cheerfully. "But not now. Can't see the baby now."

Sam shook her head. "Not for a while. Five months."

"That's a long time." the little girl said with a frown. "Can I touch your tummy?"

"Sure." Sam said, and gave Max a small smile as the other woman joined them in the middle of the sidewalk.

Max offered a smile of her own. Feeling a slight thaw in the ice that usually hung in the air when the two of them were so much as in the same room.

Flack put Daria on the ground, who then wrapped her arms around Sam's waist and rested an ear on Sam's stomach.

"Can't hear anything." Daria declared. "Can the baby hear me, Sam?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Daria pressed her face into Sam's stomach. "Hello in there, baby!" she called. "Hello! Can you hear me? I think he's sleeping, Sam. Baby's tired."

"I think so. He's quiet right now. When he's a bit bigger you'll be able to hear more and feel him kick. He's just tiny right now. He sleeps a lot."

"Can I kiss the baby?" Daria asked. "Good night, kiss?"

"Sure." Sam replied. "He likes that."

The little girl pressed a noisy kiss to Sam's stomach. "Nite nite, baby." she said. "Sleep tight. You know that Sam has a baby in her tummy Uncle Blue?"

Flack nodded.

"How'd the baby get in there?" Daria asked.

"When you're older, I will explain that to you." Max responded.

Daria tilted her head sideways and looked up at Flack. "Is Sam you're girlfriend, Uncle Blue? Is that why you were holding hands?"

"Sam and I are getting married soon." Flack explained.

"But Uncle Blue, you said I could be your girlfriend and marry you when I was bigger." Daria reminded him.

Flack looked at Sam for some sort of explanation.

"Don't look at me." Sam laughed. "You got yourself into this, get yourself out."

"Maybe when you're much older and much bigger." Flack told Daria.

"How much bigger?" she asked. "As big as Sam?"

"Maybe a little bigger." he replied. "Tell you what, when I get tired of Sam, I'll let you know."

"Thanks." Sam laughed. "I'll remember that ten years from now and I'm tired of you and find myself someone new."

Flack just smiled and kissed the side of her head.

Daria was watching them very closely. Her four year old brain working on over drive and putting everything she was seeing, and hearing, together. "Are you the baby's daddy, Uncle Blue?" she asked curiously.

He nodded.

"Are you excited?"

"Very excited."

"I want a baby brother or a sister but mommy says no. Maybe when your baby comes I can come over and play with it. Sam, can you take me to McDonalds for some ice cream?"

"Sam doesn't want to take you to McDonalds, Daria." Max said. "You just come inside with me and I'll do the work I need to do and then I'll take you to McDonald's."

"I want Sam to take me to McDonalds." Daria argued, tightening her grip around Sam's waist.

"Daria….." Max said in exasperation.

"I don't mind." Sam told her, running her hand over Daria's silky golden hair, noticing the surprised reaction that passed over Max's face. She wanted to tell the woman she wasn't an evil, cold hearted bitch. At least not to little kids. Just to the people that she felt warranted her being that way.

Flack wasn't surprised in the least. Sam had a way with kids that he'd noticed that day at the zoo with his group from the Y. Kids of all ages seemed to be drawn to her and she to them. They couldn't walk down the street or through a store without her stopping someone pushing a stroller to admire their baby or toddler and chat with them. And toddlers seemed to have an uncanny ability of seeking Sam out when they wandered off from their parents. Just yesterday evening at the grocery store, Sam had been minding her own business in the produce department and a little boy was suddenly beside her tugging on her pant leg and asking for his mother.

"You don't have to…" Max began.

"Really, I don't mind." Sam cut her off. "In fact, I'd like to take her. Don needs to go in and do some paperwork and honestly, the thought of hanging out in there on my day off does nothing for me. I'd much rather spend the next hour or so having ice cream."

"You'll take me?" Daria shrieked and jumped up and down. "Can I mommy?" she turned her pleading eyes to her mother. "Can I go with Sam?"

The two women looked at each other. Sam gave another smile. A friendly, peace offering type that managed to put a small crack in Max's icy interior.

"She's in good hands, Max." Flack said. "Trust me, nothing's going to happen to her."

"Please, mommy?" Daria begged.

Max hated to disappoint her daughter for the sake of being spiteful. "Make sure you behave yourself and when Sam says something to you, you listen to her." she pulled some money from the pocket of her jeans and held it out to the other woman.

Sam waved it off. "My treat. Ice cream is my weakness. I can never say no to anything that involves ice cream."

Flack smirked at the shared secret behind that comment. "Max and I will meet you guys there when we're done?" he suggested.

"Sure. That's fine. Daria and I will keep each other company."

He kissed Sam softly. "I shouldn't be too long. I just need to go and hunt down Stella when I'm done. Talk to her about something."

"You and your surprises." Sam grinned. "Maybe Daria and I will go to that little book and toy store that's around the corner. Sometimes they have puppet shows or craft time in the afternoon."

Daria's eyes widened and her face lit up. "Can we?" she asked excitedly.

"Sure. If your mom says its okay."

"Just be a good girl, Daria." Max said. "Don't give Sam a hard time."

"I won't." the four year old promised and grabbed Sam's hand and the two of them headed off down the busy sidewalk, Daria skipping along as they went and chatting animatedly.

* * *

Flack watched them until they disappeared into the thick crowd of people that were waiting to cross Broadway.

"She's going to make a good mom." Max commented. "She seems like a natural."

Flack nodded and turned to look at his partner. "What are you doin' here?" he asked. "Gerrard call you too?"

She nodded. "Something about paper work he wanted us to finish up on the surveillance we've been working on. They catch that guy yet or what? I haven't heard?"

"Last thing I heard was that security tapes at JFK caught him getting on a plane to the Midwest. No one has seen or heard from him since. It's out of our hands. For now at least."

They walked to the front door of the precinct. Flack pulled open the door and motioned for her to go ahead.

"Look, Don," Max said, as she fell in step alongside of him as they headed through the front lobby and through the doors that led into the hectic, raucous, bull pen. "I just wanted to thank you for not making a huge deal out of the other night. Thanks for just telling Gerrard and the duty captain that you had me removed because I wasn't feeling well. You could have told them what I did and made a thing out of it and you didn't."

"No one needed to know what really went on." he reasoned.

"I should have thanked you before now. It's been a week and I just…."

"It's okay. I know how hard it is for you to swallow your pride sometimes, Max. It's no big deal, okay? I just didn't want to tell Gerrard or the duty captain and risk someone else hearing and then the whole mess getting back to Sam. I don't need any more problems in my relationship. We're working through things and I don't need to be adding anything else to the pile of shit we're dealing with."

"So you did it more to protect your own ass and to avoid pissing off your girlfriend."

"Don't turn things ugly, Max. I did it to protect everyone involved. Unless you want a story like that getting back to Gerrard. He loves shit like that on his desk. Big fat sexual harassment complaints just make his day."

"That's not what happened and you know it, Flack."

"Let it go, okay?" Flack pulled out the chair in front of his desk and sat down. He yanked open the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a file folder and dropped it in front of him. "This is the last place I want to be on my day off and the last thing I want to be discussing is the little incident you brought on. So let's just pretend it never happened and leave it at that."

"So you never told Sam?" Max asked, taking a seat at her desk.

"Are you crazy? She'd go ballistic and kick your ass. And I don't feel like playing referee. And she's not havin' the best pregnancy and I don't want anything putting her or the baby's health at risk. Look, it happened, you're sorry and that's that. I don't hold grudges and as long as you promise me you won't do anything like that ever again, it's all good."

"It will never happen again." she vowed.

"Than there's nothing more to talk about then, is there." Flack said and reached for a pen in the holder on his desk. "So can we drop this and do what we gotta do and just get the hell out of here? I need to catch up to Stella before I leave."

"What for?"

"I want to take Sam out somewhere nice tonight and Stella knows the executive chef at Tavern on the Green. I was hoping she could pull some strings and get us a table."

"I've only heard about the place and how fancy and elaborate it is." Max commented. "Not to mention how expensive it is. How do you afford stuff like that?"

"I have my means."

"I never knew you were even into places like that. You were always the beer and pizza and wings kind of guy."

"Lots you don't know about me, Max." Flack said and picked up his phone and started dialling Stella's cell phone. "I'm a study in contradiction. It's the side of me I only show very select people. And Sam's about the first person in about a decade that has seen it."

"Maybe you should try showing more people." Max suggested after he chatted briefly with Stella, making plans to meet her upstairs as soon as he was finished.

"Maybe." Flack said. "But there's no one else that's ever going to have first hand experience with it, so what does it matter?"

"You never know. Things may not work out with you and Sam and you could meet someone else you want to show that other side to."

He smirked and shook his head as he concentrated on his work. "You always know how to say the right things, don't you? You can't just keep your mouth shut and be happy for me. Just 'cause you're not happy with your life, Max, don't try and make mine miserable. Friends don't do that to each other."

"Is that what we are, Flack? Friends?"

"It's all we're ever gonna be." he said.

"You know, you could have come around a little more in the past year to see Daria. You know how much she loves you and how much she likes you spending time with her. And now that you've got a girlfriend you act like you can barely stand to be around the kid. It would be nice if you worked a little time into your schedule for Daria."

"Max, Daria is not my daughter. And I don't mind being an uncle to her and I care about her, but I'm not gonna play daddy to her. I have my own kid on the way. And my own child is more of a priority. You want a daddy for her, track down her real one and get him to man up and take some responsibility for her."

"Trust me, he's the last person I want in her life." Max snorted.

"Then find a nice guy who will love both of you and take care of you guys. I don't mind taking her places once in awhile, but it's not going to be like when you and I were messing around. It can't be that way, Max. I'm sorry. But I've started my own family and that's who I have to be concerned about."

"And you don 't want to piss Sam off."

"This has nothing to do with Sam. Sam doesn't even know I spent time with Daria. This has to do with me and getting all of my priorities in order. I'm going to have a wife and a kid soon. My own family. And they have to be the number one things in my life. And I shouldn't have to be explaining this to you or defending it to you, Max."

"I understand, Don. And you don't have to defend anything. You're growing up. And honestly, I'm glad to see it. I was starting to think maybe there was no woman in the world who could tame you."

"That's funny." Flack said. "I was starting to think the same thing."

"She's really done a number on you, huh?"

"You make it would like a bad thing."

Max watched him as he worked. Struck by how much he'd changed. He had matured and smartened up. The old Flack was all about how much hours he could put in at work and going out and having a good time with the boys afterwards. Now he had bigger things on his plate. A soon to be wife and a baby on the way and a mountain of responsibilities. Physically, aside from the grey hair and the impressive weight gain, his eyes seemed softer. They weren't as cold all the time. Just when the job called for them to be. His face seemed to glow. And he smiled and laughed more.

Donald Flack Jr was a different man. A better one.

"You're really crazy about her, aren't you." Max stated.

He grinned but didn't look up from his paper work. "That ring on her finger and that baby in her stomach aren't evidence enough?"

"I'm serious." Max said.

"There's no words to describe how I feel about her, Max. About my life and my future with her. All I know is that before her…..before her I never had a life or a future. And now…" he sighed. "There are no words, Max."

"Well if you're happy, then I'm happy for you. I jus hope you feel this way twenty, thirty years from now. Think you will?"

"I know I will." he answered confidently.

* * *

Stella was behind her desk, returning a stack of messages that had accumulated over lunch hour alone, when Flack knocked on her open door and then waited patiently in the doorway for her to finish up with her present phone call. She watched him as he stood there, his cornflower blue eyes fixated on something at the end of the hall, and she thought about how if she'd been a few years younger, she would have definitely made a play for Flack a long time ago.

Those eyes and that dimply grin alone were enough to make you weak in your knees. And there was something so appealing about that hard ass, rough and aggressive demeanour that made Flack who he was. Because you knew, once you got past that sarcastic, cutting mouth, there was a guy with a big heart. He'd shown how loyal and compassionate he was many a time with her. That day he'd spent with her after the ordeal with Frankie especially. The way he spoken to her with a gentle, understanding tone she'd never heard before and never knew he even possessed. She'd carried a little crush on Flack for the longest time after that. And never acted on it. She was too worried about the age difference. And too much in love with Mac and hopeful he'd one day feel the same to risk not being ready and available.

But you'd have to be blind to not find Flack attractive. And she was thinking just how attractive he was as he stood there in his well fitting khaki pants and his long sleeve, black button down shirt. And how happy and at peace with himself Flack looked in the past few months. Like his life was finally coming together. And if anyone deserved that, it was him.

"You almost missed me Flack." Stella said, hanging up the phone and waving him into her office. "I was heading out early today. How'd it go with the therapist?"

Flack shrugged. "It was different. I cried, Sam cried. Isn't that all part of it? Spilling your guts out and getting emotional? Hating each other one second and loving each other the next? I tell ya, Stell, want to be put through the emotional wringer and find out how Mac really feels, I'll give you the guy's number."

"I think I'll pass. So? What's up? Where's Sam?"

Flack took a seat in front of Stella's desk. "Somewhere spending some girl time with Max's daughter."

Stella arched an eyebrow.

"It's a long story. I had to come in 'cause Gerrard called and wanted some paperwork down ASAP that he told me yesterday he didn't need until next week. So here I am. How's things going?"

"They're going. Slowly but surely. So? You here just to socialize or…."

"I need a favor. A big favor, actually."

"Okay….."

"You still friends with the chef at Tavern on the Green?"

"Brian Young. I am. Why?"

Flack smiled.

"Do you realize how hard it is to get a table there a week in advance never mind the same day?"

"Could you try? It would mean a lot, Stell. I want to do something really, really special for Sam. She deserves it. I've got some plans for tonight and this would just be the perfect addition to everything."

"I am sucker for a romantic man." Stella said with a grin.

"Shhh, Bonasera. Keep it down. I have a reputation to uphold around here. So you think you can give him a call? See what you can do?"

"You're hard man to say no to, Flack." she said with a sigh and reached for her phone. "So what are these plans?" she asked curiously, punching in the familiar numbers.

"Can't give away all my secrets, Stell. Let's just say it involves something from Tiffany's."

"If I didn't love Sam as much as I did, I'd kill her." Stella deadpanned.

"I can bring Mac along." Flack suggested. "Maybe something will catch his eye."

"Something big and sparkly would be nice." Stella said, then held up her hand for Flack to be quiet while she talked to someone on the other end of the phone.

He waited quietly and patiently, listening to Stella talk quickly and animatedly in Greek, occasionally smiling and offering up that laugh that could melt the coldest heart. He'd always found Stella attractive with her wild mane of curls and her tall, slender figure. The confident way in which she handled herself and the loyalty and trust she extended to her friends. There'd been a few times he considered asking her out but never got up the gut to do it. He didn't think someone like her would want to be with someone like him. Especially with their age difference.

"Seven thirty." she said and looked to Flack to see if that was okay.

He gave a thumbs up.

"Sounds fantastic, Brian." Stella spoke into the phone. English this time. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. Like I was saying, they're very good friends of mine and they're celebrating two major events in their life. We'll talk soon. Okay. Bye."

"You're awesome, Stell." Flack declared.

"Seven thirty, Crystal Room." she told him. "You owe me."

"I do." he agreed and stood up. "I appreciate this."

"I know. And you're really turning over a new leaf, Flack."

"Trying to." he said.

"You're doing a hell of a job." she told him. "And whatever it is you're getting at Tiffany's, if she doesn't want it, you know where to find me."

He laughed. "You'll be first on my list." he said and headed for the door.

Stella grinned. And considered sending Mac along for the trip. A little inspiration and being surrounded by thousands of sparkling things could do Mac some good. Or at the very least, put some idea in that head of his. She loved the man, but the waiting and the not knowing what the future held in store was killing her.

"Hey, Flack!" she called to the young detective as he passed through the door of her office.

He stopped and turned to face her.

"Tell Sam I'm going to talk to him tonight."

"Whose him?" Flack asked.

"She'll know. And tell her if it goes south, she better be expecting a visit from me and have some ice cream in the freezer. And some alcohol. I'll need all the comforts I can get."

"Do I really want to know what this is about?" Flack asked.

"Probably best leaving you out of the loop." she replied. "Just tell her."

"I will." he assured her and disappeared out of the doorway and down the hall.

Stella sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

God give me strength, she thought.

And please tell me I'm doing the right thing.

* * *

Flack found the second person on his must see list in the Crime Lab bull pen, glasses perched on the top of his head and a steaming travel mug of coffee alongside the computer he was typing busily at.

"You're gonna go blind with your nose pressed to the screen like that, Messer." he commented. "Aren't these the times you wear glasses for?"

"Usually. But I've got this bitch of a migraine and the glasses are making it worse. What are you doing here? Thought this was your day off?"

"It is." Flack said and pulled a chair up beside his best friend and sat down. "But I need your help."

Danny slipped his glasses down onto his face and looked at his friend. "Everything okay?" he asked with concern. "How'd it go at the shrink? You and Sam alright?"

"We're good. And he's not a shrink. He's a therapist."

"Whatever. Where's Sam?"

"Occupied for a while. Which is why I'm here."

"What'cha need?"

"I need you to get me that number for the florist you always get Erica stuff at."

Danny eyed his best friend suspiciously. "What did you do?" he asked.

"Nothing. Give me some credit. Can't I buy her flowers just because?"

"You're not a just because guy, Flack. You're a 'I fucked up huge, please forgive me and take me back kind of guy.' "

"Cut me some slack here. I just want to buy her flowers. You're always getting Erica really nice stuff. You got the number or what?"

"I'll do you one better." Danny said and turned back to the computer. "The place is called New York Plaza Florist. Its on Avenue of Americas and has a great on line store. I usually order on line and have it delivered. Just give me a second and…" he typed in the name of the florist. "Sure you didn't do anything wrong?" he asked.

"I've been a very good boy." Flack replied.

"What are you looking for? Love and Romance? Just Because? Roses? What?"

"I don't know. Little bit of all three."

"Pick one, Flack. This isn't rocket science."

"Love and Romance, I guess."

"You need to start being a little more romantic." Danny complained, clicking on the appropriate headline.

"Four pages? Of flowers? What the hell?"

"What does Sam like? What kind of flowers? Mix of stuff? What colours does she like?"

"She likes all different things. She's moved on from the orange and yellow and all that. Her thing lately is pink and purple."

"Maybe that's a sign you guys are havin' a girl." Danny commented.

"Shut your fucking gate, Messer. It's a boy."

"You don't know that. And what you got against baby girls? Come out looking like her mother. A daddy's girl. What's so wrong about having a girl?"

"Guys like you is what's wrong with me having a girl." Flack said, eyes scanning the computer screen for something that caught his attention. " I'll be waiting up 'til all hours with a shot gun in my lap waiting for her to get home from dates. Not a good idea me having a daughter. A boy I can at least relate to. A girl I gotta worry about running off and getting knocked up."

"True. But a boy you have to worry about knocking all kinds of girls up." Danny said. "Are you with me, Flack? Is there anything you see on this page you like?"

"This shouldn't be this hard." the detective said with a sigh. "That one…." he pointed to the second last item on the screen. "What's that one say?"

Danny clicked on it. "Pink Elegance." he read. "Asters , roses , ruscus and eucalyptus in a lead crystal vase."

"What about that one?" Flack pointed at another arrangement.

Danny clicked the mouse. "Celebration arrangement. Stargazer lillies, long stemmed roses and eucalyptus in a clear glass vase."

"Go with the first one." Flack decided. "Order me that one." he stood up, took out his wallet and opened it. He dropped his MasterCard on top of the desk. "And make it quick before she comes here looking for me. Or her and Max kill each other. Sam's been babysitting and Max is on her way down to get her kid and the way things are between those two, someone is liable to snap and you'll have a hell of a crime scene to process."

"Face it, Flack. That's a no win situation. You can try all you want to make Sam and Max friends, but it just isn't gonna work."

"All I want is for them to be civil. So I don't have to hear about it when I get home at night and then hear about what a bitch Sam is when I get to work."

"Isn't this exactly why you had your 'never dip your pen in the company ink' policy?" Danny asked. "To avoid drama like this?"

"That all went to shit when Sam started working here. If she hadn't, I'd probably still be miserable and alone and you'd still be with Monroe and you'd be just as miserable as I am. So this is a small price to pay for some happiness, don't you think?"

"Very good point." Danny said and typed in the information needed for delivery purposes and then Flack's credit card number. He hit enter and handed the plastic card back. "Should be at your place by five o'clock."

"Thanks, Messer. I appreciate it. You know if Carmen is still around?"

"Last I saw of her, she was just getting ready to head out for a break. You might be able to track her down. You talk to Sam about Erica?"

"I calmly and politely suggested she start returning Erica's calls. I'm not promising anything. You can't tell Sam what to do unless you want a whole, I'm not a little kid argument ensuing. And she didn't tell me what they fought about either."

"All I know is that they got into it over that ex of Sam's I asked her about. All she told me was that she'd fooled around with this guy years ago. Can't see why that would cause a big old thing."

"They're women, Messer. They turn anything that involves a guy into a big old thing. I gotta go. See ya tomorrow…." Flack headed for the door.

"Some guy stopped by here today looking for Sam." Danny said. "Forgot to mention it."

"Who was he?" Flack asked. "Get a name?"

"I didn't see him. Speed ran into this guy in the hall looking for Sam and told him she was off today. That's all I know. Maybe it was someone from an old case."

"Maybe." Flack said.

Although something told him there was more to it than that. That was just too simple. And nothing was simple when it came to anything Sam was involved in.

* * *

Daria had suckered Sam into a hot fudge sundae as opposed to just a plain vanilla cone. It didn't take much influence. A saucy little pout and a flick of those long eyelashes and a twinkle of those blue eyes and Sam was putty in the little girl's hands. It was alarming how easily she gave in to a four year old and she wondered if she'd be such a push over with her own kids when she'd always said she'd be the tough, strict type. She hated the thought of being the jelly fish parent that let her kids get away with everything under the sun and catered to their every whim. She was just glad that if things got really bad, if she let the kids run wild too much, Flack was the bound to be the iron fisted, disciplinarian. It was just his nature to take complete control and keep things in order. And she was thankful for that. Because if she bowed to their kids like she did Daria, they were in big trouble.

They sat on a bench outside of the McDonalds and had their sundaes and some drinks. It was a bright, sunny late September day and was surprisingly warm considering the cooler weather they'd had recently.

"I think it's cool that Uncle Blue is gonna be a daddy." Daria announced around a mouthful of sundae.

"Think so?" Sam asked, sipping a cup of ice tea. "Think he'll be a good daddy?"

Daria nodded. "He'll be the best daddy ever." she declared.

Sam smiled. "I think he'll be the best daddy ever, too."

"He's lots of fun. He use to take me to the park and swimming and to the mall and all sorts of places. And to McDonalds. McDonalds is my favorite."

"So you and your Uncle Blue used to spend a lot of time together?" Sam asked curiously, fishing for information.

"Yep. Lots. But then he got hurt and was in the hospital for a long time and he couldn't take me anywhere because he was sick. "

"Did you and your mom visit him in the hospital?" Sam asked, reaching out to wipe chocolate from the child's chin with a napkin.

"Sometimes. Not a lot though. He was sleeping for a long time. He was really, really sick. He nearly died you know."

"I know." Sam said with a sigh. "When was the last time he took you somewhere?"

"Long, long, long time ago. Before my birthday last year. I miss him. Maybe when you and Uncle Blue have the baby he can bring the baby to visit or I can come to your house to visit and play."

"I don't see why not." Sam said.

Daria sat quietly eating her sundae, swinging her legs back and forth. "I don't have a daddy." she announced suddenly.

Sam nearly choked on her drink at the honest, blunt statement.

"That makes me sad." Daria said. "I wish I had a daddy to do things with."

"I'm sure you and your mom have lots of fun." Sam commented. "I bet she takes good care of you."

"Yeah…she does. But I still would like to have a daddy. A daddy like Uncle Blue. Maybe he can be my daddy and the baby's daddy."

"You'd have to ask him something like that." Sam said, thinking that will happen over my dead body. There was no way her child was sharing their father with a child that wasn't even his. And Sam didn't care how callous and cold that made her sound. "He's going to be pretty busy with his own baby." she said gently. "Babies are a lot of work. He'll want to spend lots of time with the baby."

"He can still spend time with me, too." Daria said hopefully.

Sam did little more than smile and stood up to throw her trash in the nearby bin. She waited until Daria finished her own sundae and drink before cleaning the little girl's face and hands with some wet wipes she kept in her purse. She wasn't going to discuss why Flack couldn't be the child's stand in father. At least not with a four year old.

"Let's go to the toy store." Sam suggested, anxious to get off the subject.

"Okay." Daria chirped and jumped off the bench and reached for Sam's hand. "You know," she said, looking up at Sam as they headed down the sidewalk. "Your baby is really lucky. Uncle Blue is the daddy and you're the mommy. You'll be a really great mommy."

Samantha couldn't help but smile. Amazing what the words from a four year old could do for your confidence.

* * *

Carmen needed caffeine. She'd gotten an early morning call in and had found herself sifting through a dumpster full of rotten garbage and maggots before the crack of dawn and before she could get her morning coffee into her system. Now she felt as if she needed to just lie down somewhere and get her fix intravenously.

She yawned noisily and rubbed her weary eyes with one hand and reached for the down button for the elevators with the other. Clutched in that hand was a twelve inch, stuffed Baby Cookie Monster. She'd seen it during a quick lunch run at a small boutique nearby and couldn't resist picking it up. She'd heard that Flack was downstairs filing out some paper work and wanted to take it down to him.

She jumped when someone suddenly gently wrapped their forearm around her neck from behind and pulled her back against them. She assumed it was Speed and she smiled and leaned her head back against his chest, a smile on her lips.

"Looking to find a janitor's closet somewhere, baby?" she asked.

"I'm flattered Carmen, but that is not what I had in mind." Flack replied with a chuckle.

She felt herself flush from head to toe and tried to turn around and give him shit, but he tightened his grip on her neck.

"Don't move or the bear gets it." he said playfully.

"It's not a bear, Flack." She laughed and elbowed him gently and wriggled away from him. "It's Baby Cookie Monster. Like it?" she asked, holding the toy up.

"Cute. Didn't realize you were into stuffed animals."

"It's not for me." she said. "I couldn't resist when I saw it."

"Please tell me that's not for my kid." Flack said with a frown.

"It is, actually. Isn't it adorable? What? You got something against Sesame Street?"

"Everyone keeps giving us stuffed animals. We won't have anywhere to put them all."

"Well now the baby has one from Auntie Carmen and this is the most important one. You can let him sleep with it. Come on, Flack. How can you resist Baby Cookie Monster?" she waved the toy in his face and pressed it against his face, pretending as if the toy was giving him a huge kiss. "See, he likes you."

"You're messed up in the head, Devine. You really are. You on a break?"

She nodded. The elevator arrived and they stepped inside.

"I need a favor." Flack said, pressing the button for the lobby.

"I charge by the hour." she joked.

"You and your dirty talk today. Seriously though. I need a favor."

"Okay."

"I need you to go to Gibson's toy and book store around the corner and keep Sam distracted."

"All right. First off, what for?"

"I need to run a really important errand she can't know anything about."

"Hmmm….does it involve another woman?"

"What? No. It involves jewellery though."

Carmen grinned. "You're a man after my own heart, Flack. Second, what is Sam doing at a toy store?"

"Playing nanny to Max's kid."

Carmen frowned. "Why?"

"Max had to come and and do some paper work and Sam offered to take Daria to McDonald's and the toy store. Offered on her own free will, I swear."

"Are you pressuring her into the whole friends with Max thing?" Carmen asked, unimpressed with the idea.

"I wouldn't say pressuring her. I asked her to try and be friendly."

"Why beat a dead horse, Flack? Sam hates the thought of you and Max working so closely considering your history, and while she tends to go a little bit overboard sometimes, what with her out of control hormones, I have to say I don't really blame her for being pissed off with the idea."

"Max is ancient history." Flack vowed. "Sam knows that. I wouldn't do anything to fuck up the life I have with her. Loose her and my kid? For Max? For anyone for that matter? Never gonna happen."

"I'm telling you right now, Flack, and I love you like a brother, you fuck Sam over and I will hurt you. I will bury you in fact."

Flack blinked, surprised at the vehemence in Carmen's voice.

"I'm being dead serious, Don. You do anything to hurt her or screw her and that baby over, it will be the last thing you do. Am I making myself clear?"

He nodded. "Crystal." he said.

"Good." Carmen said with a smile. "Do I have to play nice with Max, too?" she asked, as the elevator reached the lobby.

"No blood shed, Devine. Please."

She frowned as they stepped off the elevator. "There goes all my fun." she said.

* * *

They'd watched a puppet show and listened to Mother Goose story time while sitting on cushions on the floor of the quaint, family owned bookshop/toy store that had been a staple in New York City for over five decades. Sam had warm memories of going there with her grandmother and Adam at Christmas time. Of sipping hot chocolate with marsh mellows while listening to Gladys Howard, the owner's wife, read classic Christmas stories while dressed as Mrs Claus. Gladys and her husband, Fred were long gone now and the place was being run by their daughter, Mary and her oldest son, Brent. The shop reminded Sam of the one in the Meg Ryan, Tom Hanks movie, You've Got Mail. And she was happy to see, by the turn out of kids and mothers (and some nannies, she was sure) that the place was still thriving.

She bought Daria a set of Beatrix Potter books and a some new colouring books and crayons. She just couldn't help herself. She saw the way Daria's eyes lit up at the books when Brent showed them to her and caught the comments about all her colouring books being nearly full and hadn't thought twice about charging everything on her Visa.

They had just stepped out of the store, parcels in tow, when Max came down the sidewalk towards them.

"Mommy!" Daria exclaimed, rushing off in Max's direction, pulling Sam by the hand.

"How was she?" Max asked, after showering kisses on her daughter.

"She was an angel." Sam replied. "We had a great time."

"We had sundaes and iced tea and we listened to Mother Goose stories and watched a puppet show and then Sam bought me this!" Daria held the bag up for her mother to see. "All kinds of stuff mommy! Crayons and colouring books and…and…what kind of books are they again, Sam?"

"Beatrix Potter." Sam replied.

Max took the bag and opened it and peered inside. "You didn't have to." she told Sam.

"I know. But I wanted too. I love buying people things and I've come into some money and I just couldn't resist."

"It was really nice of you." Max said.

Sam shrugged. "I do have my nice moments. I'm not always a witch. Just the majority of the time."

Max smiled. "Good to know." she said. "Don wanted me to tell you he's running a bit behind. Said he'd meet you here."

"No rest for the weary." Sam said. "I'm used to it. His job's important to him. He's trying to work towards a promotion so hopefully all the crazy, long hours will pay off for him. I hope it does. He deserves it. He works hard."

Max nodded. The pride and love was evident in Sam Ross' eyes. And in that bright smile that crossed her face when she spoke of Flack.

"Daria," she said. "Why don't you go and sit on that bench over there? Read one of your books. I just want to talk to Sam for a minute. Okay?"

Daria cocked her head to the side and looked between her mother and her self proclaimed best friend. She nodded and skipped off.

"Look, Sam," Max began. "I know you and I don't exactly get along. And I'm sorry if you don't like me…."

"It's not that I don't like you." Sam cut her off. "I mean, I could like you Max. It's the fact that I don't trust you."

"Why?" Max asked.

"Come on, do you really think I'm that stupid? I see the way you look at Don and the way you seem so hell bent on making him part of your life and Daria's life. Don't stand there and tell me you don't have some feelings for him. Give me, as his soon to be wife and the mother of his unborn child, some sort of respect and not bullshit me. I don't expect you to admit it. Just don't lie about it."

"Okay…." Max said with a nod. "Fair enough."

"I have nothing against you as a person, Max. This isn't a personal thing. I have a problem with you working so closely with Don considering your past and the way you still feel about him. And I promised him that I'd be pleasant and try the friendship route with you, so here I am, extending the proverbial olive branch. I don't want work being uncomfortable for him. And if you and I can be friends or at the least, keep civil, than that's fine. But it's for Don."

"You're nothing if not honest." Max told her. "And I agree. Work doesn't need to be unpleasant. For anyone."

"At least we agree on something. Maybe we can meet for lunch or something. Start things off on the right foot."

"I'd like that." Max agreed.

"Just there's one thing I need to say. And I'm not trying to be a huge bitch about it. But I need to get it off my chest or it'll drive me nuts."

"Okay. What?"

"Don't even think about turning my husband into a stand in father for your daughter." Sam warned.

Max stared at her.

"I know in the past Don spent time with Daria taking her places and doing things with her, but those days are long past. So don't try getting him into that again."

"Isn't that up to him?" Max asked defensively. "I mean, he loves Daria like his own."

"No. He doesn't." Sam corrected her gently. "Don't glamorize what he's done for her. He loves her maybe the way an uncle loves his niece, but not the way a father loves his own children. And he's having his own child. I know that thought probably burns your ass, but he's going to be my husband and we're having a baby together. He did things for Daria because he's a good person and knows the child needs some kind of father figure. But please, if you care about him in any way, shape or form, don't expect him to play daddy when he has a baby that will need it's daddy. Please, Max. Can you do that for me?"

"How do you know that he doesn't want to be part of her life in that way?" Max responded.

"I guess I'll just have to ask him myself." Sam said, relegating herself to the fact that there was just no reasoning with the other woman.

"You do that." Max told her and went to collect her daughter. "Next Monday? Around eleven thirty for lunch?"

"You know where to find me." Sam said. "Bye, Daria. Hope you had fun."

"It was awesome!" Daria gushed, as her mother scooped her up. "Thanks, Sam!" she blew her a kiss as she was carted off.

Sam waved goodbye and turned to leave herself. Only to come face to face with a frowning Carmen Devine.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Flack sent me. He had to go into a meeting with Gerrard and wanted me to come and keep you company until he was done." Carmen replied. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sam asked with a laugh. "Max is harmless."

For some reason, Carmen Devine didn't quite believe that.

**Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing! And to all of you who added my to your alerts. I appreciate each and every one of you! And to the lurkers, please, if you like this, just drop me a line and let me know!**


	76. The guys you least expect

**The guys you least expect**

"The clouds rolled by In the blue summer sky  
And I watched them disappear  
Cause I'm satisfied and finally life is right  
Well you make it all so clear  
If you hadn't saved me I would still be on my own  
And not knowing where I'm going just rambling on and on  
But I'm not running anymore  
No more chasing down the sun  
The moment I looked in your eyes I knew you were the one  
Oh your velvet chains have taken my heart for sure  
And baby it's a sweet surrender  
I'm not running anymore

Till you helped me I was never any free  
Wrapped here in your love is right where I want to be."  
-I'm Not Running Anymore, Jason McCoy

* * *

It wasn't often that Mac Taylor got off of work early. In the years that he'd be the head honcho of the New York City Crime Lab, it wasn't an uncommon event as an employee to say goodbye to Mac at the end of your shift and walk in twelve hours later and say good morning. His tired eyes and wrinkled clothes a sure sign that he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, fresh air or a decent cup of coffee. Everyone that worked for him knew that Mac was the way he was because he was haunted by the memory of Claire and loosing her so suddenly and unexpectedly on September 11, and that work was the only thing that kept him going most days. Keeping busy kept him sane. An idol mind was a devil's play thing, he could remember his father quoting a many time when he was young. And it was a philosophy Mac subscribed to.

Unfortunately, working himself to near exhaustion for so many years had closed him off to emotional contact. He had tried to date but felt he never could give enough of himself to someone. His job came first and he hadn't been able to put anything, or anyone else, before it. Staying in a relationship for the sake of not being alone wasn't fair to the woman he was with. And he wasn't happy pretending there was something there when it was so painfully obvious there wasn't. He compared every female that he got close to to Claire. And it was unreasonable to expect any woman to compete with a ghost. And he wasn't in the business of making promises he couldn't keep. Or breaking hearts.

And then one morning, following his night out for coffee with Stella, he woke up and realized what he had been searching for had been right in front of him all along. Stella was well educated and an amazing conversationalist and a strikingly beautiful woman with a heart of gold. And she understood him. Understood the passion in which he did his job and the driving force behind his desire to make the streets of New York safer. She got it. She accepted that his responsibilities to the city and to his employees were first and foremost on his list and she never once complained that she wasn't getting her fair share of his time or attention.

For years she'd been a close friend and a valued colleague and supported his decisions and occasionally disagreed with him. She'd helped him through his grief and later his break up with Peyton. And that moment when he'd kissed her and hadn't balked when it quickly turned into something more they both so desperately wanted and needed, he knew that Stella had been the one that could make him feel complete. And happy for the first time in a long time.

Those around him began noticing a change in Mac right away. He and Stella had kept their relationship a closely guarded secret for months, but those that worked for him knew that there was something different about him. He seemed to laugh and smile a lot more. He wasn't spending long sleepless nights holed up in his office as often as he used to and he looked well rested. And happy. And a happy Mac was a much more tolerable Mac. He could still be a hard ass when need be, but he was less on edge and less 'Marine' as Danny and Flack were known to call it. And when the word finally got out to the team that Mac and Stella were involved, no one was shocked. In fact, a couple of them had began to suspect something was up when Mac and Stella were spotted looking a little more cozy than usual outside of Sullivan's one night. The relationship was accepted by everyone.

"About fucking time." Flack had said when Mac had spilled the secret to him at a crime scene. "How come we all knew you guys were meant to be together before the two of you did?"

So it came as no surprise that afternoon when Mac announced to the team members still stuck running evidence that he was leaving early. Things were under control. Danny had the most years in and was more than capable of being in charge and knew to call if things got out of hand or he had even the simplest of questions. Danny had shown remarkable improvement in his work and social skills in the months following little Ruben Sandoval's death. And in the absence of Lindsay. Mac had never met Erica, but he'd heard a lot about her from Danny and Stella, and he knew that anyone who could help Danny Messer heal was a God send. And he hoped Danny was smart enough to hold onto her.

Mac walked through the front door of the apartment in lower Manhattan he and Stella shared at a quarter to six in the evening. Soft music was playing on the stereo in the living room. The delicious aroma of chicken parmesan drifted on the air. The first thing Mac had learned about Stella when they moved in together was that she was a fantastic cook. And that there'd been a time she'd considered becoming a professional chef before deciding to head to university for forensics instead. Her love for food and preparing it had been nurtured by her foster mother who liked nothing better than cooking and baking for the kids in her care. As a girl Stella had spent hours standing on a chair in the kitchen, helping peel and mix anything that was passed her way, asking question after question, her brain soaking all the sights and smells and lessons up.

Mac had never had food that good. Claire hadn't been much of a cook. And Peyton could have burned cereal if given the chance. He looked forward to the days that Stella was hit with inspiration and she had time to put the inspiration to good use.

The small kitchen table was decorated with the china that Stella had purchased not long ago for what she deemed special occasions. She'd developed an interesting in planning dinner parties, but had yet had the time to actually invite anyone they knew over for one. Mac noticed there was a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket on the counter and candles waiting to be lit in the middle of the table. The food was keeping warm in the oven.

But there was no Stella.

He dropped his keys and his cell phone on top of the microwave and unclipped his badge and holster and sat both on the top of the fridge. Slipping out of his suit jacket, he draped it over the back of one of the chairs and lifted a dish towel that was covering a small wicker basket on the table. Fresh foccacia bread. Most likely from Weinstein's. The bakery and its various treats were Mac and Stella's guilty pleasure on those lazy Sundays when there was nothing to do. There weren't enough days like that, but when they came, they took advantage of them.

Stella breezed into the kitchen just as he was pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He turned to ask her what the special occasion was, but the words became lost somewhere in his head. There she stood in the doorway, in a simple little black dress that hugged every tempting, sensual curve of her body. Her hair piled loosely onto the top of her head and a couple of loose tendrils dangling along her face. Light makeup gracing her lovely face. Strappy, sexy black heels completing her look.

"Cat got your tongue, Mac?" she asked with a light, almost self conscious laugh, her voice breaking through the daze he'd gotten himself into.

"You look beautiful." he told her, as she pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "What's the special occasion?"

"No special occasion." Stella said. "I just wanted to do something nice. For you. For us."

"Your favorite china, candles, wine, your amazing cooking? Not to mention you in that dress…..did I forget something? Birthday, anniversary….."

"Nothing." she assured him with a smile. "You didn't forget a thing. I just thought it would be a nice treat to do something like this." she turned to the stove and opened the oven. "Are you hungry? I made your favourite."

Mac swallowed hard at the sight of her ass as she bent over to check on the dinner. It was amazing how the simplest things when it came to Stella could drive him absolutely crazy.

"Starving." he replied, then thought, But not necessarily for food.

"I'll take care of this." she said, grabbing the pot holders on the counter. "It's ready to go. Could you pour some wine and light the candles?"

He nodded and retreated to the other side of the kitchen to collect the cork screw for the wine . If he stayed standing next to her for much longer, with the intoxication scent of her perfume wafting over him, he was liable to clear the table off with one sweep of his arm and have his way with her right there and then. With Stella, intimacy was never boring or predictable. And she was far from being submissive and timid in bed. In fact, she brought out the wild, inhibited side in him.

Stella prepared two plates of food and set them on the table and went to the fridge for the salad she had prepared.

"You are becoming very domesticated, Miss Bonasera." Mac teased playfully as he poured their wine, placed the bottle back in the ice bucket and sat down.

She smiled and joined him at the table, scooping salad onto his plate before sitting down herself.

"Are we toasting to anything?" Mac asked, as he lifted his glass.

"Hmmm…" Stella's long, well manicured fingers curled around the stem of her glass. "How about….to finally finding where we belong?"

Mac smiled and leaned forward to gently tap the edge of his wine glass against hers.

Throughout dinner they talked about their respective days at work and the pressure that Mac was feeling by Sinclair to close more cases despite the fact that with Sam as a lab tech and Lindsay quitting, he was seriously under staffed and overtime was excruciatingly high. Yet the brass refused to allow him to hire another CSI that the lab so desperately needed.

They discussed the news headlines from the day and made tentative plans for the weekend. And after the food had been polished off and the table cleared and the dishes put in the washer, they lounged on the couch. Mac sat with his legs stretched out, leaning back against the arm of the couch as Stella, between his legs, rested back against his chest. They sipped their third glasses of wine. His arm loosely draped around her neck, his fingertips tracing light circles on her smooth, pale skin. Outside the sun was setting, filling the apartment with a soft orange glow.

"Mac?" she asked, snapping him out of the comfortable, doze he was drifting off into.

"Hmm?"

"There's something I need to say to you. And I need to be completely open and honest with you and just get everything off of my chest."

"Okay. About…..?"

She took a deep breath. "I love you, Mac." she said.

"I love you, too, Stella."

"No. I mean, I really, really love you. I never thought it was possible to love someone this much. And when I'm with you…..I feel so whole. So whole and so at ease with myself and so very, very happy."

Mac smiled and kissed the side of her head.

"And I know you love me." Stella continued. "I don't doubt that at all. I see it in your eyes when you look at me and it's in your touch and when we make love…..but I need something more, Mac. I need to know where this is headed."

"Stella, I…."

She sat up and leaned forward to set her wine glass on the table before turning around on the couch to face him.

"I want forever, Mac. You and I. I want the wedding in a church and the 'to death do us part' and the kids and the white picket fence. I want to grow old and grey with you and…"

"Stella, will you just…"

"Husband and wife, Mac. That's what I want. And I want a baby. Two or three if possible. I'm not getting any younger. I want all of that and more. And if you can't give me all that than…."

Mac laid a finger over her lips to silence her. "Stella, I love you. More than life. You taught me how to love again after Claire. You made me realize what it was like to feel loved again. Of course I want to marry you and have children with you."

Tears sparkled in Stella's eyes. "You do?" she asked.

Mac nodded. "As a matter of fact….." he placed his wine glass on the coffee table and climbed off the couch. "Just wait here." he said and disappeared from the room.

Stella could hear him rummaging through something in the kitchen, and saw the sly smile on his lips when he finally returned and watched him, her heart pounding in her chest with anticipation, as he pushed the coffee table aside and dropped to his knees in front of her.

"Stella." he said simply and took her left hand in his right. It was then that she saw that coveted blue box in his other hand.

Her eyes widened and she laid a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God…." she breathed.

"I was going to find a nice time to do this later." Mac said. "But seeing as you brought it up first."

She fought back tears. "When? How?" she rambled.

"I ran into Flack and he asked me to run an errand with him. He's very aggressive and very insistent. He nearly dragged me from the lab by the scruff of my neck."

"He's a very, very wise man." Stella declared. "And I never thought there'd come a day when I'd say that about Don Flack."

"Well he's not the same Don Flack anymore." Mac reasoned.

"A good woman will do that to a man." Stella said.

Mac opened the small blue box and carefully removed the ring. It was a two carat marquise shaped solitaire diamond set in a thick yellow gold band. And it sparkled gloriously in the rays of the setting sun spilling into the room.

"I've loved you for so long, Stella." he said, his voice possession a gentleness reserved only for her. "And there's nothing I want more than to be your husband and have you bear my children. Grow old with you. Will you marry me?"

Tears spilled down her face and she nodded. "Of course I will." she managed.

He placed the ring on her trembling finger and kissed the top of her hand. Then he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.

"Thank you." he said, and brushed her tears away with his fingertips.

She smiled through her tears and held her hand up to study the ring. "It's beautiful." she breathed.

"You're beautiful." Mac told her.

Her smile broadened. "How about we have dessert to cap off this moment?" she suggested.

"What kind of dessert did you have in mind?" he asked.

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him, yanking him back down onto the couch. "I was thinking of something sweet…." she kissed his neck. "Warm…." she pressed her lips to the spot below his ear. "And very, very decadent." she licked and nibbled at his ear.

Mac grinned. "That's the best dessert of all." he declared.

* * *

Samantha woke to light, fluttering sensations in her stomach. The movements were becoming more and more frequent now and each time it happened, the butterfly like sensations brought a smile to her face. Up until that night a week ago when she'd felt movement the first time, it had been easy to forget that there was a living, breathing and growing human being inside of her. To that point, the only reminder that she was pregnant was the lingering health issues and the fact that she was gaining weight at what she considered a rapid, almost distressing rate. Everything had seemed negative and doom and gloom from the moment she'd seen that positive result on that home test. The excruciating all day sickness, the pre-eclampsia and now borderline gestational diabetes. Not to mention the possibility of there being a problem with the baby and the other health related issues. The movement served as a reminder that there were positive, happy times ahead. And someone in there that depended on her to keep them safe and sound for the rest of their life.

She'd went for a nap when they'd gotten home. After Flack had picked her up outside of Gibson's, it hadn't taken long for her to figure out, after a few strategically planned questions, that there'd been no meeting with Gerrard. In fact, when she'd asked him what happened in said meeting, a confused, deer in the headlights look had come over him and had taken him a minute to come up with a half decent sounding answer. Short of inflicting some form of torture on him or threatening to cut him off, the only information he'd give her on what he was actually up to was that one, it was legal, and two, she was going to enjoy it. And all she had to do, and could do, was trust him.

Once the sensations in her stomach passed she rolled over onto her side to check the time on the alarm clock. It was quarter to five. She'd been sleeping for a little over an hour and a half and still felt as if she could sleep for at least another twenty four. There didn't seem to be enough hours in the day to sleep anymore. She couldn't explain why she was so tired all the time when she was taking all the recommended vitamins and supplements and getting a proper amount of exercise and eating properly. And Mac kept her on a straight forty hour week. No night shifts. Strictly daytime and nothing past six in the evening. She was seriously considering, once the money from Zack came in and the house was sold (which was soon, she hoped) cutting back to part time hours.

She was wearing a dress shirt of Flack's, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and nothing underneath when she wandered into the kitchen. Stopping in her tracks in the doorway at the sight of him at the cluttered table, her lap top open in front of him. A stack of case files to his left and a pen between his lips. Typing slowly and awkwardly with just his left hand.

He sensed her watching him and looked up. A sheepish smile crossed his face.

"You are so busted." Sam said with a grin.

Flack nodded in agreement.

"What happened to your no more work promise you made on the way home?" she asked, walking over to the table and plopping down sideways on his lap. She plucked the pen from his mouth and tossed it onto the table and wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

"I just thought, seeing as you were sleeping, I could catch up on some paperwork." he reasoned, rubbing her back softly and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You know how paperwork isn't my strong suit. Half these files have been on my desk for a couple of months."

"You're a procrastinator." she said, yawning loudly and nestling her head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

"I just get bored easily." he corrected her. "Seriously though, I need to catch up. Gerrard is watching me like a hawk now that I'm gunning for that promotion. I do not want to be stuck at the same grade for the rest of my career. I need to show them that I'm serious about moving up the ladder."

"Detective Sergeant Flack. Is it wrong that the sound of that turns me on?"

"Nothing that turns you on could be wrong. And if it really does something for you, you can just call me that now. We won't even wait for the promotion. You can call me whatever you want."

She giggled into his neck at the feel of his fingertips drifting up her leg and underneath the bottom of the shirt and finding her thigh.

"I prefer being called God but…."

"You fucking wish." she said. "You're not that good."

"That is not what you were saying at five o'clock this morning." he told her.

"You have your moments." she said and sat up and kissed him long and slow. "Has Gerrard said anything else about the promotion?"

"Just that I'm on the grid. That's all he said. I know there's a Sargeant's exam coming up in December that I could take. And I have to go and talk to him and Sinclair sometime within the next couple of weeks though."

"Because?"

"Just some things I need to talk to them about. Nothing major. But this promotion would be good. And not just for the whole moving up the ranks thing either. All the extra responsibility, more high profile cases."

Sam guessed that finally emerging from his father's shadow and making a name for himself was next on that list, but he didn't say it and neither did she.

"Not to mention more money." he added. "Can't go wrong there. It's a decent jump in my salary especially with the baby coming soon. And if we want to have more kids somewhere down the road, we can't live in an apartment. We're going to need a house. Something with a yard that's close to parks and schools and is relatively quiet."

She drew back and looked at him. "Do you stay awake at night thinking about all this stuff? Is that what's going on in your head when you're pretending to be asleep?"

"I just want to give you and our kids something nice, Sam. The whole family thing you didn't have growing up. Well, that we both didn't have. And I don't think I can do that on what I make now.

"I do work too, you know." she reminded him.

"I know. But even then, we're not exactly pulling in big money. I mean, don't you want that? A house in a nice neighbourhood? Somewhere we're not afraid to let our kids play alone in the backyard? More space for all the crap that comes with kids?"

"Of course I do. But it's also not the most important thing in the world to me and I hope you don't think it is. I don't care where we live. As long as we're happy and our kids are happy and healthy. That's all that matters to me. And as far as the promotion and the exam go, I have faith in you and I know you'll do great. No doubt in my mind. And I can help you study. I happen to be a very good tutor."

He grinned. "What are you good at tutoring?" he asked.

She raised her head and smiled. "Like you have to ask that? What is my number one skill?"

"I'm suppose to be studying for a detective exam. Not studying female anatomy." he informed her.

"You do not need to study. You happen to be an expert all ready."

"I think when it's time for me to seriously buckle down and study, it's best we stay in separate houses. Because you…." he hooked a finger in the top of her shirt and pulled it away from her chest. Smiling broadly when he saw she had nothing on underneath "are way too distracting." he finished and popped open the top button on the shirt.

"Well then get your mind out of the gutter." Sam told him and slapped his hand away.

"You're sitting on my lap with no underwear and no bra on. Where else is my mind going to be?"

"It's what you get for all the times you've distracted me by walking around in an undershirt. You know I have a fetish with your arms. And you're freckles on your shoulders."

"You're strange." Flack told her.

She shook her head and pressed a light kiss to his lips, then moved to his ear. "You have very, very, very sexy arms." she said, then trailed the tip of her tongue along the edge of his ear.

"Okay." he said, trying to suppress a shudder that took of his body. "You have to get off my lap now."

She giggled. "Any other time you'd be telling me to climb on your lap." she said and kissed his cheek and slid off of him.

"I'm saving all of that for later. Take you to bed and corrupt you all night long."

"I'm four plus months pregnant." she said, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of black cherry flavoured vitamin water. "I think you've corrupted me enough."

"There can never be too much corruption of a sweet, innocent, pure thing like you." Flack said and went back to typing on the lap top.

She fought to undo the cap for a couple of minutes, then gave up, sighed heavily and carried the bottle over to him. She held it out with a cherubic smile.

"How'd you ever survive so long without me?" he asked playfully, taking the bottle from her and effortlessly twisting off the cap. "Can't open lids on stuff, can't get anything on shelves over your head, can't carry anything over twenty pounds…."

"It's why I keep you around." Sam said, giving him a kiss in appreciation before taking a swig of the water. "I use your strength and your height to my advantage. I mean, you didn't think you'd be getting a free ride in this relationship did you?"

A smirked crossed his face and he opened his mouth to let loose a perverted, off hand comment but she laid her hand over his mouth.

"Keep that one to yourself." she said.

"Remember what the doctor said about not drinking too much of that stuff." Flack told her, as she sat in the chair across from him and put her feet in his lap. "Lots of sugar in that."

"Yes, dad." she said. "Do you mind not using my notebook to look at porn? Don't you have your own lap top?"

"Your's is way better than mine." Flack reasoned. "And I am not looking porn. I am talking to my on line girlfriends and having cyber sex."

She snorted and dug her toes into his crotch. "Why would that not surprise me?"

"Ow…..okay….you want more kids, don't you? Keep your feet away from there. And for your information, I am attempting to straighten out a big old fucking mess with your medical coverage."

She frowned. "What big old fucking mess?"

"You never changed your address over with the NYPD from Adam's place to here. So when you went to that appointment at the OB-GYN and the ultrasound and the trip to the the ER, you gave the address here and when the department went to cover it, the address didn't match your file. So guess what?" he held up a sheet of paper. "You owe the state of New York two grand. And the NYPD sent another letter saying your benefits have been cut off until you change your address."

"Ooops."

"So I am trying to change your address on line and send an e-mail explaining how sick you've been and it just slipped your mind so you don't have to pay the bill. And I can't get you covered under me because we're not legally married yet. So hopefully, I can straighten things out this way."

"You are so good to me." she said.

"It's a hard, dirty job, but somebody has to do it." he joked. "We should start getting ready soon. Considering it always takes you so damn long to get ready to go somewhere."

"Hey, I have to look beautiful, you know. It's not easy. We can save time by getting showered at the same time."

"Save time? We'll never leave the shower."

"That's a bad thing?"

"I have plans for tonight. That's all you need to know." he logged off the computer and powered it down and shut the lid.

"Does it involve sex?" she asked hopefully.

"Wow. They weren't kidding when they said some women get really, really horney when they're pregnant. I mean, you were a raging nympho before. Now….."

"Are you complaining? Is that a complaint, Detective Flack?"

"Commenting. Not complaining." he assured her. "And you woke up early. I was going to wake you up at quarter to six."

"You're son or daughter woke me up doing back flips or somersaults or whatever it is they're doing in there." she rubbed her ever expanding stomach in slow, smooth circles. "I noticed now that I'm up they've decided to knock it off."

"How come he never does anything when I'm lying there waiting for an hour?" Flack asked.

"Maybe because it's a girl and she's tired of you calling her 'he' all the time." Sam replied teasingly.

She knew that as much as he wanted his first born to be a boy, that as long as the baby was healthy and had ten fingers and ten toes and could draw a breath, he was satisfied. And that he'd be an amazing father regardless of whether it be a boy or a girl.

"Speaking of little girls." she said, sipping her water. "Daria told me something very interesting today."

"Yeah? What's that?" he asked, tidying up the papers and folders.

"Two interesting things, actually. First, that you used to take her places a lot when you and Max were doing whatever the hell it was you two were doing."

Flack shrugged. "I just spent some time doing things with her. Nothing major. Took her places because she didn't have a father and I felt bad for her. Take some of the pressure off of Max trying to handle everything on her own. Just being a nice guy."

"Well I think you may have been a litle too nice as far as both Daria and Max are concerned."

"Why?" he sensed by the tone of her voice and the way the playfulness escaped her eyes that this was one of those times to just forget whatever he was doing and concentrate solely on whatever was bothering her. And to take it seriously and be sympathetic and understanding no matter how ridiculous it may seem.

"Daria wants you to be her father." Sam told him.

"Well I'm not. And I never will be. She just thinks that way 'cause I'm the only guy that's really been around her. If Max found someone that was father material and would accept the kid, then Daria would move on to them. She's only four. Kids think weird things at four."

"She doesn't just think it, Don. She's pretty insistent that you are going to be her daddy along with being a daddy to the baby."

"Well she's wrong. I'm not going to be her daddy. Okay? Never gonna happen. With work the way it is, I will barely have time to be a daddy to my kid, never mind someone elses. And like I said. She's four. Don't be too much stock into what a four year old says."

"That's not what bothers me. What a kid says." Sam said, as he got up from the table and picked up the folders.

"So what is it that bothers you?" he asked , sitting back down when he realized this issue may not have been a major one for him, but to Sam it was damn near the end of the world. He couldn't wait until she had the baby and she went back to normal. The mood swings and outbursts and ups and downs were beginning to grate on him.

"Max." she replied simply.

Flack sighed and nodded. Looked her dead in the eye and kept his calm and composure even though inside he was tempted to shake some damn sense into her.

"You're going to think I'm stupid." Sam said.

"No. I'm not. If something is bugging you, obviously I want to hear about it. So tell me. Tell me what's going on in your head, Sam. I can't read minds, baby. Did she say something to you?"

Sam nodded and fought back tears. She was sick and tired of her hormones getting the best of her. And most of all, she was sick and tired of being sick and tired.

"Is it really that bad?" Flack asked gently.

"To me it is."

"Okay….so then tell me what it is that's got you like this."

"Do you love Daria like she's your own?" Sam blurted out.

"What?"

"Do you love Daria like she's your own." she repeated.

"What kind of question is that? She's not my own. She's just the daughter of some girl I was sleeping with who is now my partner. I think she's a cute kid and deserves a dad in her life, but I wouldn't say I loved her. And if I did, the most it would be is how an uncle feels about his nieces or nephews."

"She told me that you love Daria like your own."

"Well that's bullshit." he snapped, more at Max's stupidity of saying such a thing than at how upset Sam was at the moment. "You and the baby are everything to me. You two are the reasons I get up in the morning and put up with this fucking job in this God forsaken, God awful shitty fucking mess we call a world. I could never, ever love someone elses child as much as my own."

"I need to know that you're going to be there, Don. When our baby comes. That our baby isn't going to have to share you with someone else."

"Listen to me, Samantha." he reached across the table and took her head. "Look at me so you see the words coming out of my mouth. I love you and our baby and no one is ever going to come between me and my family. And the next time I see Max, I am going to tell her just that. Okay?"

She nodded and wiped at her eyes. "Okay." she agreed.

"I know you're not feeling well and this pregnancy hasn't been easy on you. And we're not even in the middle of it yet. But I do love you and I'm so proud of you. You're so strong, Samantha. I never realized just how tough you were until I saw how sick you've been. And knowing that you're going through all of this just to give me a child…..there are no words to tell you how much I admire you and appreciate you."

She smiled brightly. "God I love you." she said. "And I'm so proud of you, Donnie."

"For what?"

"Everything. For being the way you were in therapy today and for the way you handled things just now and for this whole promotion thing. I'm just proud of you and I love you and I adore you."

"Yeah?" he grinned. "How much do you love and adore me?"

"I can show you later." she suggested.

"I may have to hold you to that."

She grinned. "I hope you do." she said.

* * *

She was self conscious about that eighteen pounds she'd already managed to gain. For a girl that was used to slipping easily into size eight clothing, accepting the fact that you now had to maternity clothes because you couldn't get regular pants past your hips and your stomach was a bitter pill to swallow. She was worried about getting stretch marks and being so big she wouldn't be able to see her feet three months down the road. Having a baby was no problem. It was the drastic body changes that came with it that were disheartening. She'd never concerned herself a vain person. She didn't spend much time looking in the mirror and fixing her hair and trying on ten outfits to see which one was best. She rarely wore makeup (and didn't need to as far as Flack was concerned. He found the fresh faced beauty the most appealing one of all, even if she did look young enough to still be a first year college student) and didn't spend hours in the bathroom getting ready to go out like the majority of women did.

Devon had been on of those types. It took her two hours just to do her hair and makeup, never mind the amount of time she spent leading up to the day looking for the perfect outfit and shoes. Once she'd spent five hours getting a manicure because she wanted the poor woman to get the colour of the polish to match her dress perfectly. Flack didn't get it. He understood the need women felt to look and feel beautiful and appealing. But five hours arguing over the colour or nail polish seemed a little much. Devon had just been to materialistic and self centered and too…..Barbie Doll like. He'd settled for that because he didn't want to be alone anymore. Deep down he wanted a girl that felt comfortable in her own skin. Someone who left off the foundation and mascara and fake eyelashes and could just hang out in a pair of tattered jeans and sweats and still look damn good.

And he'd finally found that. Sam could make a garbage bag attractive. But lately, as her weight climbed and the realization that there was still four and a half months to go set in, her confidence was going down the toilet. And the issues with Max were only making it worse. To Flack, regardless of what she weighed and what she wore, Sam Ross was the most beautiful, alluring woman in the world. And as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom, buttoning his white dress shirt and tucking it into his grey pinstriped pants, he watched as her as she studied herself in the mirror on the dresser, a frown on her face as she checked out her side profile.

The dress she had on was stunning. A vibrant red, silk empire waist cocktail dress with a V neckline and back that stopped just above the knee and had fabric blooms stitched along the hem of the tulip skirt. It had been the second of five dresses she'd tried on that day. And the one that had made him want to go in the change room and take advantage of her right there and then. That reaction was enough to know that that dress was the obvious choice. But he could tell by the look on her face that she was starting to question if she'd made the right decision.

"I'm getting fat." she announced, running her hands over her stomach.

"You're not getting fat." he assured her. "You're pregnant. Gotta gain weight when you're pregnant."

She sighed and turned to face the mirror and leaned close to it, eyeing the roots of her hair that were quickly becoming more and more noticeable. "Look at me. My hair looks like shit. I haven't been able to dye it since I got pregnant and I won't be able do dye it again until after the baby is born. By then I'll look like a skunk."

"You're real hair colour is nicer than that purple crap anyway." Flack offered up his opinion.

She pushed her bangs away from her face and secured them on each side with black jewelled barrettes. She stepped back from the mirror again and ran her hands over her hips. "My boobs and my hips are getting way too big." she said.

He smirked and bit back the perverted comment that threatened to escape. A comment like that during one of her ranting sessions would only earn him a fuck you or a smack across the face.

"You look handsome." she said for a change of pace, eyeing him through the mirror, a smile on her face.

He could look drop dead gorgeous in a suit and tie or faded baggy jeans and a ratty t-shirts and a baseball hat and those hideous Adidas sandals that he coveted so much. Tonight, he wore the suit that she managed to talk him into buying earlier that day. It was a dark grey and had pinstripes and his crisp white shirt and red and blue and grey stripped tie completed the look.

"Well it's hard work trying to look good alongside of you." he said, knotting the tie, noticing the way her face and eyes brightened with such a simple compliment. And she was even more beautiful when she smiled.

"Can you?" she asked, gesturing to the zipper at the back of her dress.

"You know it's dangerous asking me to do stuff like that." he teased, crossing the room and standing behind her. "I'm better at getting you out of clothes than into them."

There was a lot of pent up sexual tension inside of them both. Although they had agreed on a joint shower, they'd also agreed to keep things from becoming intimate in any way, shape or form. The only problem was that the sight of her naked body was enough to nearly blow his mind. Her hips were becoming fuller and her breasts heavier, and her belly seemed to be getting bigger with each passing day now. And the realization that he was the one responsible for getting her that way to begin with was the greatest turn on of them all.

However, after several attempts at intimacy, it had become all too apparent that no possible position was comfortable for her in that cramped shower. And by that time she was so frustrated and slightly embarrassed that nothing he could possibly do for her, or to her, that would make her relax and feel better. So they'd mutually agreed to end things right there and then and just concentrate on taking a shower.

Except now they were both on edge and frustrated. Flack felt like he was nearly dying from frustration as her delicate, intoxicating perfume permeated his senses and he felt the silky skin of her back under his fingers as he reached for the zipper.

Sam shivered under his feathery touch as his fingertips travelled from the small of her back to the middle as he pulled up the zipper and fastened the small catch. Goosebumps overtook her body as he slid his fingers up the remainder of her back and across her shoulders and then down her arms. Clasping her hands in his as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sensitive back of her neck.

She sighed heavily at the warmth that took over her body. Their eyes met in the mirror and he smiled at her.

"You look beautiful." he told her.

"You really think so? You don't think I look fat?"

"Naw. You look good." he nodded his head appreciating and gave that half smile that never failed to make her knees go weak. "Real good." he added, and presed a kiss to her shoulder.

God, it was taking all the will power she had not to jump him right there and then. As horny as she always seemed to be before she was pregnant, now that she was, sex had become a necessity almost. Akin to breathing, nearly. But there were worse things to be addicted to.

She shuddered as his lips travelled across her shoulder to the back of her neck once again. This time he licked and sucked and grazed the spot with his teeth.

"Okay…." she said and wriggled away, dropping his hands. "I think maybe you and I should stay on opposite sides of the room for awhile."

She turned around to face him and tightened and straightened his tie. "Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?" she asked hopefully.

"I told you. It's a surprise. But we do need to get going. I wanna take a cab so far and then walk the rest of the way. It's nice outside. Perfect for a little walk."

"You're up to something." Sam said. "A big something."

"All you need to know is that it's a surprise and you'll enjoy every minute of it. Or at least I hope you will."

"Who came to the door while I was getting dressed?" she asked, slipping into a simple pair of black kitten heels. She grabbed her black shawl and matching clutch purse on her way out the bedroom door.

"Part of the surprise." he replied, following behind.

"Have a told you yet how anxious I get about surprises?" she asked.

"Only about twenty times in the last hour."

"You're making me very nervous, Donnie." she scolded him.

"Nothing to be nervous about. I'm not leading you into the depths of hell or anything. Stop being so paranoid about everything and just relax and enjoy yourself. Okay?"

"Okay." she agreed, although somewhat reluctantly. "I just don't see you can't give me some kind of…" she stopped mid sentence as they entered the living room and were greeted by the sight of a beautiful arrangement of asters and roses in a sparkling crystal vase. She halted and turned to face him with both a pleased, surprised smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

"Just thought it would be a nice thing to do." Flack told her.

She reached up and touched his face softly and then headed over to get a closer look at her flowers. "You don't usually do things like this." she said, almost in awe, as she plucked the card out from the leaves.

He shrugged. "You like them?"

"They're beautiful. Thank you." she opened the card. Just because, it read inside. "You certainly were a busy boy when you were supposedly working." she teased.

"Hey, I can't let you know all my secrets, can I? Gotta keep some of them back. Admit you, you like my mysterious side."

"Sometimes." she agreed.

He laid a hand on the side of her face and kissed her. Long and sweet. "Never doubt how much I love you." he said. "Even when things may seem pretty shitty. Never doubt it."

"I won't." she vowed.

"And all this shit with Max? Ignore it. I'll take care of it. You just have to trust me. Give me a little while and I'll fix everything. I promise."

"How are you going too…."

He silenced her with a kiss. "I promise." he stressed. "You and I? We can fix anything, Sam. You know that."

She nodded and allowed herself to be drawn into those strong, comforting arms. She circled his waist with her arms and rested her had against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart.

She'd finally found where she had belonged all along. And she never wanted to leave that moment. The feeling of security that being in his arms provided her with. With him, she felt protected and safe. And she knew, as long as she stayed right where she was, nothing bad could ever happen to them.

Or to her.

**Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing. Please keep it up! You guys are the reason I do this! And to all the lurkers: if you like it, please send me some love!**


	77. The sea of memories and despair

**The sea of memories and despair**

"Even now the world is bleedin' but feelin' just fine  
all numb in our castle where we're always free to choose  
never free enough to find i wish somethin' would break  
cuz we're runnin' out of time

And I am overcome  
I am overcome  
holy water in my lungs  
I am overcome

These women in the street pullin' out their hair  
my master's in the yard givin' light to the unaware  
this plastic little place is just a step amongst the stairs

And I am overcome  
I am overcome baby  
holy water in my lungs  
I am overcome

So drive me out, out to that open field  
turn the ignition off and spin around  
your help is here but I'm parked in this open space  
blockin' the gates of love."  
-Overcome, Live

**A/N: Please check out the poll on my profile page and cast your votes. It's unanimous so far! The new story is tentatively titled Views From Brooklyn and depending on the results, will be up soon.**

**A/N 2: Look for a new story being co-authored by myself and Aphina. It will start season one and future both Sam and Carmen. But they are not what you have come to know through MOB and Aphina's Devine series. We hope you all follow us once it's up!**

* * *

They went to McDonalds for lunch. On a Sunday afternoon the place was a mad house. Harried parents chasing their kids around the busy restaurant and fighting to get them to eat as opposed to wreaking havoc in the play land or busying themselves with the cheap plastic toy that came with their Happy Meal. Toddlers in high chairs wailed and screamed and threw temper tantrums while puddles of discarded chewed up food sat all around them.

"These kids are bad, daddy." Daniel whispered to Flack, as the seven year old took in the mass hysteria around him.

It was Daniel's job to gather the ketchup and vinegar and napkins and straws. It made him feel important. Like he was a big kid that could do big kid things. And going anywhere with his father without his brother's tagging along was always a huge deal for him. Because Mackenzie and Kieran never stayed behind too often and when all the kids were together, Daniel was often left in the background because he was so quiet and withdrawn. Mackenzie and Kieran were loud and obnoxious and stole all the attention. And sadly, Daniel had simply accepted it as a way of life whenever he was out with his brothers and daddy. Mommy however would always take him alone places. Mommy and Daniel Time, she'd always called it and they'd get in the car and figure out a place to go while they were driving.

Flack hated to admit that most of the times he turned down alone time with Daniel was because of the OCD. He just could not deal with all of the weird things the kid would suddenly start doing in public. The way he'd organize the food he was eating or how he made sure everyone at the table had the exact amount of napkins and how his chair had to be facing a certain way and he always had to sit between the same two people. Flack saw the way people looked at the family when Daniel started shit like that. Sam was able to ignore it and just get on with business and then snap on him when they got home about how he cared more about what strangers thought than he did about his own child's feelings. And while Sam could endure the 'helpful' advice from other mothers on the playground or in the grocery store when Daniel through one of his Exorcist inspired temper tantrums, Flack would simply tell whoever was offering said advice to fuck off and mind their own business and scoop Daniel up and leave. And then give the kid the spanking of his life.

He was ashamed that he was a better father to Kieran, Mackenzie and Mikayla. They had their moments when they were the spawns of Satan, but they were nothing like Daniel. Daniel was in a league of his own and Sam had been able to get into that little world he sometimes retreated into and draw him back out. She had been able to keep her patience when repeating the same simple instruction twenty times and deal with a tantrum calmly and effectively. She didn't get flustered or embarrassed when Daniel bit a kid or himself. She handled him just like she did the others when they were bad. It was why Daniel and her were so close.

Had been so close, Flack corrected himself silently. Had been. Because she's gone and now it's all up to me to deal with this.

And that scares the shit out of me.

"Does that mean you're going to be good?" Flack asked, as he buckled Mikayla into a high chair.

"I'm always good, daddy." Daniel informed him.

Sure you are, Flack thought. And I'm the freaking Pope. He settled his children at a table where he could go and get the food and still keep an eye on them. Sam would always give him shit for even going five feet from them and turning his back for what she considered a prolonged period of time. She would say 'You know how many crazies are out there. You see it every day! And you leave them?'. He'd tell her to get a grip, no one was going to snatch them when he turned his back for ten seconds. And then he'd add, in that smart ass way of his, and if they were snatched, trust me, whoever did it would bring them back as soon as they realized what evil children they were. That always earned him the most vicious glare she could muster. He could never take that glare seriously. Hard taking a woman a quarter your size seriously. And Sam never stayed mad for very long. Which would explain how she ended up pregnant so much. In bed was their favourite way to end an argument.

Daniel was kneeling on his seat as he dug into his cheeseburger Happy Meal. He'd inspected the burger as soon as his father unwrapped it and sat it in front of him. It had to be just ketchup with three pickles. Not two, not four. Three. Flack received the same implicit instructions each time they stopped at McDonalds. There'd been many a time the burger wasn't right and Daniel had a melt down. So mom or dad always had to check the order before accepting it. Or face the consequences. And God forbid there was ice in his drink. That was nuclear melt down time.

"Daddy?" Daniel asked, his dark eyes serious.

"What, buddy?" Flack asked in response, reaching across the table to pull off Daniel's Mets ball cap. One thing Sam and him never tolerated was any of the boys wearing a hat while they were at the table eating, whether it be at home or in public. In fact, they didn't allow them to wear hats in the house period. Nor did the nuns allow it at school.

"Why's the sky blue and the grass green?" Daniel inquired.

Flack was prepared for that. Kieran had once asked him the same thing and he'd answered with the first thing that had popped into his head.

"Because if the sky was green, you wouldn't know where to stop mowing." Flack said in all seriousness as he broke up pieces of chicken nuggets and French fries and sat them on the tray in front of Mikayla who was parked next to him.

Daniel stared at him. Flack wasn't sure if that was a look of you've got to be kidding me in the kid's eyes or one of utter amazement at the response he'd received. Eventually a smile crossed the little boy's face. A smile that made his eyes sparkle and his nose crinkle. And Flack's heart constricted in his chest at the thought of how much Daniel reminded him of Sam.

"That makes sense." Daniel said with an energetic nod of his head. "You're smart, daddy. You know everything."

"Eat your lunch." Flack said and pushed the food closer to his son.

Beside him Mikayla shrieked loudly and banged her fists on the tray to get her father's attention. "Da-dee." she said. "Dwink."

And as she said the last word, she also did the sign for it. Sam and him had used baby sign with Daniel to help him communicate better, and had carried it over with Mikayla despite her having no trouble speaking. Rick, had been gracious enough to give them free lessons.

Flack reached for the Disney Princess knap sack on the chair next to him and unzipped it and pulled out a sippy cup full of apple juice. Not used to being the one that organized days outings with the kids, he'd already pulled out of the driveway when Kieran came rushing out of the house, Mikayla's baby bag clutched in his hand.

"Tank you, da-dee." Mikayla said and blew him a kiss when he sat the cup down on the tray.

He reached out and ran a hand over those soft black curls on his daughter's head.

Daniel was intently watching another couple and a little girl at the table next to them. The little girl was tiny and strawberry blond and wore a green and blue plaid jumper and white blouse. She kept looking over at Daniel and smiling sweetly and whispering to her mother, who in turn would look over and smile as well. But it wasn't the child Daniel was looking at. The mother was pregnant. Obviously late trimester by the size and way she was carrying, and Daniel was fascinated. Just like he was when his own mother was pregnant with his little sister.

"Daniel." Flack said sternly. "Don't stare."

"It's okay." the mother assured him, overhearing. "He's a sweetheart."

"Yes, I am." Daniel agreed wholeheartedly and sipped his pop.

The mother laughed. Flack wanted to hide under the table.

"What's your name?" she asked the little boy.

"Daniel Adam Joshua Flack." he announced proudly. "Just like daddy. His last name is Flack too. You know what his first name is?"

She laughed. "No."

"Donald. That's what mommy calls him when she's mad. Other times she calls him Donnie."

"You're very smart. How old are you, Daniel?"

"Seven. Well, seven in three weeks, five days. I have a twin brother. His name's Mackenzie."

"Twins, huh?" the father at the table commented. "We're expecting twins in a month."

"Good luck with that." Flack laughed. "It really is double the trouble. At least in our house."

"And I have another brother," Daniel continued. "Kieran. He's nine. And this is my sister Mikayla. She's two."

"Big family." the mother said with an impressed nod.

"We didn't know when to stop." Flack joked. "Just kept on having them we were having so much fun."

"Planning on having anymore?" the father asked.

"No." Flack replied, swallowing around the lump that now took up residence in his throat. It happened when he least expected it to. The choking emotion. "Unfortunately."

"My mommy's dead." Daniel announced.

Everyone at the two tables and those surrounding it stared at him.

"She was shot." he said. "By a bad guy."

"My wife was a police officer." Flack explained to the horrified family beside him. "She was killed in the line of duty about a month ago now."

"The crime scene investigator?" the mother, her hand clasped to her chest, asked in a near whisper.

Flack nodded. He didn't feel like going into the details with complete strangers. Not only was it none of their business, but he could barely talk about it with people he knew, let alone someone he'd never met before.

"We read about that in the paper." the father said with a sympathetic nod. "Tragic."

"Yes." Flack said and sipped his pop to keep from crying. "It is."

* * *

He was thankful when the other family left a short time later. There'd been no more talk of the incident and they'd left with polite goodbyes and a couple I'm sorry's and the father had given Flack's shoulder a tight, comforting squeeze and said 'Hang in there.' He appreciated their condolences, but despised seeing the pity in everyone's eyes. He saw the pity in his own eyes every time he looked in the mirror.

"Daddy?" Daniel asked, as his father cleaned his hands with a Pampers to Go wipe from the travel container packed in Mikayla's bag. Both kids' hands and faces were a complete mess. As was the floor and highchair.

"What, Daniel?" Flack asked with an irritated sigh.

It wasn't logical or fair, but he was pissed at a soon to be seven year old for bringing up his dead mother. For unknowingly bringing all the pain and sadness and longing to the surface once again. And that morning, as difficult as it had been to get out of bed, had been his first step on a long road to healing. And now this.

Carmen's words echoed in his ears. One day it won't hurt so bad. One day you won't cry every time you think about her. It will get better.

To Flack, it sure as hell didn't feel that way.

"What was I like when I was a baby in mommy's tummy?" he asked curiously.

"You were just the way you are now." Flack replied, placing a hand on the top of his son's head to keep it still while he used a fresh wipe on his face. "Only a lot smaller."

"I know that." Daniel said in an irritated way that Flack had come to recognize as his son's 'daddy, you are such a goddamn moron' tone. "I meant what was I like."

"Well, Mackenzie was in there, too, remember? And you two used to keep your mom up all night kicking and moving around. Then you guys would sleep all day. And you guys were constantly hungry and made her feel sick all day long."

"Was mommy mad?" Daniel asked, as Flack moved to the high chair to clean Mikayla, who was babbling and making a bigger mess by rubbing chewed up French fries in her hair.

"Why would mommy be mad?"

"'Cause Mackie and I were so bad."

"You guys weren't bad. You were just babies waiting to be born. And babies waiting to be born do things like that."

"So mommy was happy?"

"Of course she was. She was very happy to be having you and your brother."

Mikayla screamed in displeasure as her face was cleaned. Flack had to yank his hand away to avoid the two year old leaving a nasty bite mark in retaliation.

"No biting, Mikayla." Daniel scolded her. "That's bad."

Mikayla blew a raspberry at her brother to show how seriously she was taking him.

"Were you happy, Daddy?" Daniel asked.

"About what?" Flack re-packed the neatly organized bag, wondering how in the hell Sam had ever managed to keep things so neat and tidy. And take all the kids out at once by herself without going insane.

"About me and Mackie being in mommy's tummy." Daniel said.

Flack paused before answering. He had been happy. At first. The news of a new life was always exciting and welcome. And both he and Sam had been thrilled and shocked and somewhat overwhelmed when that ultrasound tech announced there were two of everything. But all that changed in her sixth month when she'd announced, after her guilty conscience had gotten the best of her, that she had slept with Tim Speedle. He could still remember that numb feeling that took over him as she stood there in the parking lot of the lab telling him that at the side of their car. She'd come there after a routine check up and appeared at the side of his desk with a distraught look on her face and he'd immediately assumed the worst about the twins. And when she said she needed to talk, he knew that it was way worse than he'd initially thought.

But he never expected what came out of her mouth that day. They had had their share of problems and fights and downright shitty times, but to hear her say she'd slept with his friend and didn't know whether he or Speed was the father of the twins she was carrying, that damn nearly destroyed him. The world all but opened up and swallowed him whole. He didn't hear another damn thing she said as she stood there crying and tugging at his arm. He felt frozen. From head to toe. And it took an eternity it seemed for that sensation to pass, and when it did, she was begging him to say something, anything. Apologizing over and over again. Professing her love for him and trying to offer up some form of explanation that seemed hallow to both of them.

"Say something, Donnie." she pleaded, gripping his arm so hard he felt her nails digging into his skin through his shirt. "Please just say something."

"It's over." he said. A finality in his voice that neither of them had ever heard. "I want you and those fucking twins out of my house by tomorrow morning. And don't even think about taking Kieran with you. You can take your bastard twins and head to Miami and Speed for all I give a shit. Just get the fuck out of my life."

"Don't say that." she begged, tears streaming down her face. "You don't mean that."

He had meant it at that time. Standing there in the drizzling rain listening to his wife confess she'd fucked his friend and gotten herself knocked up by him, he meant every word he said. Rationally he knew that there was that fifty fifty chance those twins were his. But rational thinking had gone down the toilet the moment she opened her mouth and admitted what she'd done. And as he stood there, looking at her with pity and anger and disgust, he still loved her all the same. Because she was his wife and the mother of his first born child. But fuck on the other hand had hated her with a passion at that moment.

"I'm getting a lawyer." he said. "I'm serious, Samantha. It's over. I want you and those twins gone. Next time you and I see each other, it'll be in court. Understand me?"

That had never materialized. She'd packed some of her things and went back to Arizona for a month. He'd shipped Kieran off for two weeks to Adam and Gus' and spent those two weeks drunker than he'd ever been. Danny had finally smacked some sense into him. Literally. Danny didn't condone what Sam had done, but he understood it in a away. Things had been tough and she'd felt alone and unloved and Flack was the only one to blame for that. And he loved her. He'd never stop loving her. So he'd packed his bags and flew to Arizona and brought his wife home.

He'd forgiven her the best he could. But he'd never forgotten. And she understood when he wasn't as into the last two months of the pregnancy like he'd been with Kieran. But he'd still been there when she went into labour and had been at her side when those twins were born through emergency c-section and he'd held her hand and wiped away her tears when Daniel was in trouble and assured her that everything was going to be right. Daniel's near demise and his stay in the NICU had brought them closer together than they'd ever been. He accepted the twins and signed his name on the birth certificate and gave them his last name. He knew, despite a DNA test, that those weren't his kids. It was damn obvious appearance wise. But he didn't want to know. He didn't want that test done and those results delivered by someone at the lab. Because that made things all to real. Without the test he could fool himself into thinking those twins were his.

And as the months and now the years went on, he'd come to realize that he was their father. That he loved them regardless of whose DNA was inside of them. But that didn't mean there weren't times it didn't hurt like hell to think about it.

"I was happy." he told Daniel at long last, noticing the look of worry that had crossed his son's face when he hadn't responded in a timely fashion. "Very happy. Why wouldn't I be? You and your brother gave me a chance to be a daddy again after Kieran."

Daniel smiled brightly. "You and mommy are lucky, daddy." he said, helping tidy up the high chair.

"Why's that?" Flack asked.

"'Cause you had me." Daniel replied matter of factly.

Flack smiled and ran a hand over his son's hair. "You know what, you're right. We are lucky. Because I couldn't imagine my life if you weren't here."

"You'd be sad." the little boy declared. "And bored."

Flack couldn't help but laugh at the truth in that statement.

* * *

After finishing the cleanup and taking Daniel to the washroom and changing Mikayla's diaper, he took the kids to the indoor playground before heading off to the lab. Daniel kept an eye on his little sister while they both played in the ball pit with several other kids. Flack had no cause for concern that Mikayla would get trampled or hurt by the older kids. Not only did she have a great big brother in Daniel, she was also as rough and tumble as any boy. She had to be with three brothers. And Flack had seen her, even at two, smack the shit out of an older kid that was picking on her and trying to push her around. She may have looked like her father, but with her tiny, petite frame and attitude, she was all her mother.

He was leaning against the far wall of the play room, sipping a cup of horrible coffee while keeping an eye on his kids who'd now retreated to the jungle gym, where Daniel was attempting to teach Mikayla how to climb, when one of the solo mothers who'd previously been watching Flack from across the room, now sidled up to him.

Jesus Christ, he thought, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Normally, even as a married man who had been allowed to look but warned never to touch, the woman beside him would have been attractive in his eyes. She was tall and willowy with wavy blond hair that just skimmed her shoulders and had vibrant green eyes. She was dressed casually in a pair of khaki cargo style pants and a simple white t-shirt. But under the circumstances, there was no woman in the world that he could look favourably at. There was only one woman he wanted, and she was too far out of reach now.

"Those are your two?" the blond asked, nodding in the direction of Daniel, with his arms around his sister's waist, hoisting Mikayla onto the second rung of the climber.

Flack nodded. "Two of four." he replied.

The blond's eyes widened.

"All under the age of ten." Flack added.

"Wow. You've been busy." she laughed.

"Woulda been six, but that's an entirely different story."

"And how old are they?" she nodded in the direction of giggling little girl and her attentive older brother.

"Daniel, he's almost seven, and Mikayla, she's almost two. He's got a twin brother at home and a nine year old brother."

"Lots of boys. That's my little guy over there." she pointed in the direction of a curly haired blond boy in the midst of the ball pit. "Isaac. He's five."

Flack nodded and sipped his coffee.

"I'm Charity." the blond said and offered her hand.

"Don." he said simply and shook her hand quickly. Then took another sip of his coffee, this time with his left hand, hoping she'd notice his wedding ring and just leave him alone.

"You know," she said, leaning against the wall beside him. "It's nice to see a father doing things with his kids. You don't see it very often these days. Men just don't seem to give a rats ass about family anymore. My ex, he high tailed it out of there once the demands of being a father got to be too much. Can you believe that?"

"No." Flack said. "I can't."

"There needs to be more dads out there like you. Ones that man up to their responsibilities. There's just not enough. I work in the public sector and in my job, I see a lot of bad apples that claim to be fathers. Bunch of low lives is more like it."

"I work for the public sector, too." Flack told her. "I have for the last twenty years. And I've seen a lot of disheartening stuff."

"What do you do?" Charity asked.

"I'm a homicide detective. A lieutenant actually,"

"Really? Hmmm….. I happen to find police officers very attractive."

He smirked.

"You married? Separated? Divorced? Single by choice?"

"Look, Carrie….."

"Charity." she corrected him.

"Charity. I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but I just came here to have a nice time with my kids. Treat them to something. My family's been through the month from hell. And you seem like a really nice girl and everything…."

"I am. Very, very nice."

"But the last place I'd pick up, if I was looking to pick up, is in the play room at McDonalds. And I'm not looking to pick up. My wife just died. Less than a month ago. And you're not her. So if you'd just leave me alone, I'd really appreciate it."

She blinked. "You're wife just died? Is that some kind of sick lie you use to get sympathy from women? Prey on their sympathies? Get them to fall all over you in your grief."

"My wife was murdered almost a month ago. She was a police officer. Crime Scene Investigator actually. She was shot at a crime scene. And it's not a joke or some line I use to get women. It's my God awful shitty life and I've been living this nightmare for twenty two days and.." he consulted his watch. "sixteen hours and forty three minutes and about thirty seven seconds. So please, do me a favor and leave me alone."

"You're serious." Charity said in a horrified whisper.

Flack smirked and fixed her with that steely glare he reserved for those that pissed him off the most and finished his coffee and tossed the cup in the nearby trash.

"Daniel, let's go." he called to his son, who had managed to get his little sister half way up the climber and was precariously holding Mikayla by the hem of her sundress.

"Just five more minutes?" Daniel pleaded. "Mikki's almost at the top, daddy."

"And she's going to fall on her head and then you can explain to your mom why…." he bit his lip, halting the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

And to his horror and embarrassment, he felt the hot tears that pooled in his eyes and the tightness in his chest and his racing heart and the sweat that beaded on his forehead. An anxiety attack. He'd been having them since the day he'd made the decision to take Sam off of the breathing machine. Some of the attacks so crippling that he'd honestly thought he was having a heart attack.

He just needed to get the hell out of there. Out into the sunlight and fresh air. He strode over to his children and plucked Mikayla off of the climber. The sudden action sent her into a screaming fit, fat tears streaming down her rosy, chubby cheeks as she found herself being carried tightly on her father's hip. Flack grabbed Daniel by the wrist.

"Let's go." he said, and steered his son to the door.

"But daddy…." Daniel protested. "You said…"

"Go. Now." Flack ordered.

Thankfully, Daniel, as if sensing the urgency in his father's voice, had decided to forgo the temper tantrum and obey silently. He didn't have much of a choice with that strong hand wrapped tightly around his wrist.

Flack took the kids out of the restaurant and across the busy parking lot to the gun metal grey Volvo SUV parked nearby. He didn't know why he'd taken Sam's car that day. It was rare that he drove it, opting instead to use the bigger Navigator he'd bought himself three years ago to get the kids and all their gear to and from hockey and soccer practices and school. But that day, he'd reached for his keys sitting on the microwave and saw Sam's sitting there. Dangling off that beaded key chain that read WE LUV U MOMMY. He scooped them up without a second thought and headed out. Daniel had been happier in a pig in shit that they were taking mommy's car. Because in mommy's car, they got to listen to kids music and he got to sit in the front seat. Flack had sat there in the driveway for several long minutes. Wondering what in the hell he was doing as the smell of Sam, still in that car, filled his senses. He'd been near tears before steeling himself and fixing the mirrors and the seat and taking off.

He buckled a still wailing Mikayla into the safety seat in the back and got Daniel belted in the front passenger seat. He climbed in behind the wheel and sat there, his eyes closed and his face in his hands, allowing those tears to flow freely down his face. He would have just broken down and sobbed if his kids weren't sitting right there. Daniel watching him with a concerned, pained and saddened look on his face. Please, God, make this go away, Flack pleaded silently. Make this fucking pain go away.

He heard the soft clicking of Daniel's undoing his seat belt and then the rustle as Daniel moved across the seat. Then he felt his almost seven year old climbing into his lap. He removed his hands from his face and looked into those dark eyes.

A tiny arm circled his neck. With his other hand, Daniel reached out and brushed his father's tears away with a gentle hand.

"It's okay, daddy." Daniel whispered and pressed a kiss to his father's cheek. "It's okay to be sad, daddy."

Flack lost it. He broke down and sobbed like a baby and clung to his son for dear life.

Several minutes passed. And when the tears stopped flowing and the ache in his chest went away, Flack entangled himself from Daniel's grip and wiped his face with the front of his shirt. Daniel retreated back to his own seat and did his belt up once again.

Flack put the key in the ignition and was just about to turn it when a knock came to his window. That Charity woman from the play area was standing there, a concerned look on her face. And Mikayla's back pack in her hand.

He hit the button for the power window.

"Are you okay?" Charity asked, knowing the answer just by looking at his face.

"I'm fine." he replied.

"You left this in McDonalds." she said and passed the bag through the window.

"Thanks." Flack said simply and took the bag and sat it at Daniel's feet.

"Hi!" Daniel chirped.

"Hi." Charity smiled.

"I'm Daniel." he said.

"I know. Your daddy told me. I'm Charity."

"That's a pretty name." Daniel told her.

"Thanks." she smiled at Flack. "A flirt all ready. You've got your work cut out for you."

"Thanks for bringing the back." he said. "We have to go."

"I know this great support group for bereaved spouses." she told him, ignoring him as she opened her purse and dug through it. "My mom runs in. She helps a lot of people."

"I don't need help." Flack informed her.

Charity held a business card out to him. "If you ever feel you do, give me a call and I'll set you up."

Flack nodded and took the card.

"Nice to meet you." she said and then waved at Daniel. "Bye!" she called.

"Bye!" Daniel responded.

Flack watched her go through the rear view mirror. Saw her climb into a burgundy coloured minivan. He looked down at the card in his hand.

"What's that daddy?" Daniel asked curiously.

Flack crumpled the card up and tossed it out the window. "Nothing." he replied and started up the ignition and put the SUV into drive. "Absolutely nothing."

* * *

Carmen stretched out in the lawn chair and sipped on a tall glass of pink lemonade. She longed for some vodka to put in it. Vodka and lemonade had been Sam's drink of choice when she indulged, and Carmen had seen a nearly full bottle of Smirnoff in the kitchen. She'd decided booze was out of the question with the kids around. She opted instead to sip the lemonade pure and relax out in the backyard with a book she'd scooped from Sam's collection in the basement while Kieran and Mackenzie played together- peacefully, for once- on the elaborate wooden playground at the far end of the yard.

It was a beautiful late May, Sunday afternoon. Surprisingly warm considering how chilly the last few days had been. She was thankful she'd brought along some shorts and t-shirts to wear. She'd borrowed Sam's sunglasses that had been sitting on top of the fridge and now sat, the legs of her shorts rolled up even further, sleeves of her shirt pushed up to her shoulders and her bare legs stretched out to grab some rays.

She scarcely heard a car pulling into the driveway. It had only been an hour since Flack had left and she wasn't expecting him back that soon. And Speed had left twenty minutes ago to head to his hotel and make some phone calls to Miami. He'd made the decision to stay in New York and one phone call to Stella that morning had guaranteed him a spot on the team. Now it was talking to Horatio and delivering the news that he was leaving. Again.

She heard the click off the back gate and female giggling and glanced over. Smiling at the familiar faces that came around the corner of the house.

"It's the Commish." she said, closing her book and standing up.

Mac smiled warmly, his daughters, seven year old Tiana and five year old Chloe giggling as they followed close behind. Much to her father's dismay, Tiana was giggling over the fact that they were there at the Flack house, and she had self proclaimed crush on Kieran. In fact, the crush seemed to go both ways. They called each other their boyfriend and girlfriend and Kieran had recently confessed to his Uncle Danny that Tiana was the first girl he kissed. Prompting Danny to give Flack a 'keep an eye on your kid with the ladies' warning.

"Hey, girls." Carmen greeted, giving each of her nieces a warm hug and a kiss before they were off and running to join the boys on the play equipment.

Carmen and Mac stood side by side, watching as Tiana wasted no time climbing to the very top and joining Kieran who was sitting on the ledge, bossing Mackenzie around as he gathered toys in the sand below. Kieran and Tiana smiled sweetly at one another and he jumped down to help her up onto the ledge before getting back up onto it himself. Tiana giggled and rested her head on Kieran's shoulder.

Carmen and Mac looked at each other. Carmen smirked. Mac sighed.

"You're in trouble with that one, Mac." Carmen laughed.

"She's seven and convinced she's madly in love with him and going to marry him."

"You poor man. Your baby marrying a Flack? That's the stuff ulcers and grey hair are made of."

Mac grinned, then hugged her tightly. "How are you?" he asked.

"Hanging in there. Barely sometimes." she admitted. "It's just hard to believe. That Sam isn't here anymore."

Mac nodded. "How's Flack?"

Carmen shrugged. She wasn't about to tell Mac about the evening before and Flack's near suicide. "He's coping." she said. "He got out of bed and left this house this morning so that's a start."

"I was hoping to catch up to him. There's some things I need to talk over with him before he came back to work."

"About Sam's case?" Carmen asked hopefully.

Mac smiled gently. "You know I can't tell you that, Carmen."

She nodded. "Stella's at work?"

"She's having a rough time. She's been having nightmares and panic attacks. She won't get rid of the clothes she was wearing when she tried to help Samantha in the warehouse. She keeps them in a plastic bag in the closet."

"She feels responsible, Mac." Carmen reasoned. "I mean, she was the first one in there after Sam was shot. She convinced EMS to bring her back three times in the ambulance. She even did chest compressions and CPR herself. That's gotta be rough."

"It's rough on all of us." Mac said. "I remember meeting her that day she came to the lab after hired her over the phone. She looked barely old enough to have graduated high school. Then all of a sudden she was a wife and a mother and she grew up right before our eyes."

"I keep thinking about the last time I saw her." Carmen said quietly. "At the airport. And she hugged me and kissed my cheek and…..and she said goodbye, Mac. And Sam never said goodbye. I will never forget that as long as I live. I just wish that…." she broke up and laid a hand over her mouth and shook her head. "I'm sorry….I can't talk about her…I just can't…"

Mac laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to."

She turned to him and rested her head against his strong chest.

"Make it go away, Mac." she said in a near whisper. "Make the hurt go away and bring her back."

He stroked her hair with one hand, her back with the other. "I wish I could." he said.

* * *

There was a young woman sitting on the bench outside of the crime lab. She was of medium height, slender build and had dark wavy hair reached just below the shoulder. Jackie O style sunglasses on her face, dressed conservatively in beige slacks and a crisp short sleeve white blouse. Standing to the side was a young man, maybe early twenties in a well tailored suit and tie, trying his best to flirt, and possibly, get the number of the brunette on the bench. By the lack of conversation, Flack guessed the guy wasn't doing so well.

And just like that, observing such a common, every day thing, he was bombarded with memories of his wife. Of that day over a decade ago when Samantha had been sitting on that very bench, Danny trying his damnedest to make a good impression. And failing miserably with that horrible Matt LeBlanc pick up line. She'd looked stunning with the sunlight cascading down on her, making the natural red highlights in her long, dark hair sparkle. And when she'd looked up at him with this golden eyes, his heart had jumped to his throat. And when she smiled at him…..

Don't do this to me, Flack pleaded silently as he sat behind the wheel in a parking spot outside of the lab. Glad he wore sunglasses to hid his blood shoot eyes. Please don't do this to me. I can't take this. I'm going to go crazy.

He composed himself and opened his eyes. The young man was gone. He'd abandoned his quest. Leaving the object of his desire sitting there in the sun, typing on a Black Berry. Flack killed the ignition and climbed out of the SUV. Walking around to the driver's side, he opened the door for Daniel, who was all ready unbuckled and waiting for him. He helped the child out of the vehicle and made him wait while he unbuckled a sleeping Mikayla from her car seat and lifted her carefully into his arms. Flack realized he must have looked a real sight. A big strong guy carrying a dead to the world two year old in a pink and white sundress and Strawberry Shortcake sandals, her Disney Princess bag slung over his shoulder.

"Burns, daddy!" Daniel nearly wailed as he walked along beside him. "It burns!"

Daniel had sensory issues when it came to bright lights and loud, sudden noises. And with the sun as strong as it was, Flack knew it probably felt, to Daniel, that his eyes were going to burn right out of his head.

Flack pulled off his own sunglasses and bent down to slip them onto Daniel's face. "Better?" he asked.

Daniel nodded. "Thank you, daddy. I get to wear your police man glasses."

They headed through the front doors and took a left into the precinct. Flack wanted to stop by his office and see what kind of hell awaited him in the form of paperwork. Having an office and being away from his guys had been somewhat of a culture shock for him when he was promoted to Lieutenant only two short years ago. He'd spent nearly seven years as a Sargent and oversaw his fair share of high profile busts that practically made him a household name in the newspapers.

During his first two weeks as Lieutenant, he'd cleaned house at the twelve, hired (with Sinclair's permission) several new, damn good detectives, and commanded three massive raids on guns and drugs that saw him, for the first time since the Wilder bust eleven years before, speaking on television. The kids and Sam had made a big deal about seeing him on t.v. Daddy was a celebrity as far as they were concerned. And Sam, when cuddling up to him in bed one night after seeing one of his interviews, began kissing his neck and said:

"I've never done it with a famous person before."

He laughed thinking about that even now. Sam had always had a way with words. She could verbally spar with the best of them and always had something smart to say when he got all sarcastic and smart ass with her. And she always seemed to get the last word.

Even if it was the way she moaned and groaned and eventually screamed into a pillow she held to her face as he showed her just how good sleeping with a celebrity was.

He noticed the way the volume in the bullpen quieted right down as he walked through it. The way detectives paused what they were doing to look at him with sympathy and pity as he quickly walked past. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with them. Even 'his guys'. A couple of whom had made to get up from their desks to talk to him, then sat back down when he simply strode past without even a hello. He just wasn't ready to talk about Sam, or how he was feeling with people he worked with. Especially those that worked under him.

Scagnetti was just coming out of an interrogation when Flack walked past him without even a nod in greeting. And watched as the younger man headed into his office and shut the door behind him.

"Can I sit at your desk, daddy?" Daniel asked hopefully. He didn't visit the precinct that often, but when he did, it was always a treat to sit at daddy's desk and play on the computer. And it made him feel good to see pictures of him and his siblings and his mother on the desk and colourings him and his brothers had done on the wall.

"Just for a minute." Flack replied and gently placed a still sleeping Mikayla on the small couch across the room.

Daniel climbed up into the chair and opened up the top drawer. Where he knew his father always kept blank paper and a package of crayola markers just for those times that the kids stopped by. Both Flack and Sam had tried to keep the kids away from the job as much as possible. But there were times when trips into the precinct or lab were unavoidable.

"I'll draw you a picture, daddy." Daniel announced, selecting a blue marker. "You can hang it up. Okay?"

"Okay." Flack agreed and picked up a stack of files on the corner of his desk and flipped through them. Reports that needed to be done ASAP. He'd have to take them home and stay up a couple of nights getting them completed.

There was a second pile on the other side of the desk. Sympathy cards in different coloured envelopes. He picked them up and flipped through them. Some were addressed to Flack (those ones were from the guys he'd worked years with) and others to Lieutenant Flack. From the rookies and ones he hadn't known as long.

The door popped open suddenly and Flack glanced up to see Scagnetti walk in.

"Closed means you knock first." Flack told him. Normally he wouldn't have been so offhand and miserable with one of his closest friends, but he wasn't in the mood for chatting.

"Just wanted to see how you're holding up." Scagnetti said, closing the door behind him.

"I'm fine." Flack told him.

"Surprised to see you here." the other detective said, hands in his pants pockets. "Didn't expect ya for a couple of days."

"I needed to see if there was paperwork that needed to be done." Flack explained. "And I needed to run upstairs and talk to Stella."

The older man nodded.

Flack could sense there was more to why the older detective was there than a simple social visit. "You have something to say, Scagnetti?" he asked. "You pissed I'm coming back so you're not acting Lou anymore?"

"What? Don't be fucking stupid, Flack. You're a damn good lieutenant and boss. And I'm glad you're coming back instead of sitting around moping."

"Thanks. I'll remember that when you're wife dies."

"Not how I meant it, Flack. You know that. It's horrible thing that happened to Sam. And I feel like shit about it. I just think it's good for you to get back to work. Keep your mind off of things."

Flack just nodded.

"How are you, Donnie?" Scagnetti asked, his voice softening. "How you holding up?"

"You really wanna know? Last night, I was going to blow my brains out until Tim Speedle talked me out of it. Then I went home and drank myself into such a stupor I thought my wife was still alive when I woke up in the morning. And then some woman flirted with me at McDonalds and it made me sick to my stomach and I had a breakdown in the car and my seven year old son had to comfort me. And I come here and everything reminds me of her. I see her everywhere. So how does it sound like I'm doing?"

"Donnie, if you need someone to talk to….."

"I don't. Okay? I don't need someone to talk to. I don't want someone to talk to. I just want to get through this on my own. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but there's nothing you can do."

"If there's anything you need…."

"Thanks. But I'm fine." Flack assured the older man.

Scagnetti nodded.

"There's more, isn't there. What aren't you telling me, Tony?"

"There's rumors, Flack."

He sensed the urgency in his old friend's voice and turned his full attention over. "What kind of rumors?" he asked. "About my wife? The shooting? IAB?"

"Yes, yes and no. Nothing about the IAB investigation. It's about Sam and what went down. There's some talk going on that the FBI is gonna get involved."

Flack frowned. "Why? It was probably some junkie that got scared or something."

"They think it was the Wilder Gang, Flack."

"What? Come on. They've been out of business for a decade now. I put them out of business. That's really reaching if they think that."

"Guess it's relatives of some kind. Why you think there's been plain clothes camped out across the street from your house? This coulda been a revenge thing. Paying you back for taking down the family. Closing shop on them. Plain clothes are keeping an eye on you and your kids. I mean, this guy or whoever got away, Flack. Think about it."

"I think it's far fetched. I mean, come on. There's no way they could have known that Sam was my wife and that she'd be at that crime scene."

"Look, I don't know if they just meant to kill any cop there to prevent them from getting caught, or if they literally stalked Sam and were gunning for her. But that's the talk that's going around and if it's the Wilder gang, you got a reason to be scared for you and your kids. If they'd do that to Sam……"

"Drop it." Flack said. "Don't talk like that in front of my kids. They've gone through enough without having to be terrified when they step out the door. But I'm telling you right now, if it was the Wilder Gang, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family. Whatever."

Scagnetti nodded in understanding at the unspoken words. "I've got your back, Flack. Whatever you need. And I'm talking whatever. Okay?"

Flack nodded.

"They won't get away with it." Scagnetti vowed. "Even if the NYPD doesn't catch them, the bastards will not get away with it. Even if we have to find them ourselves."

Flack sighed and glanced back at his son, so blissfully unaware of what was transpiring feet away from him.

"They'll pay." Scagnetti said. "We'll make them pay."

"Do me a favor, Tony."

"Sure."

"I want you to keep one step ahead of the FBI if this is the case. And I want you to track down every surviving member of that goddamn family. Names, phone numbers, addresses. And you give that information to no one but me. No one knows what you and I discussed today, got it? You find those sonofabitches and we'll take care of it from there."

Scagnetti grinned and held out his hand.

Flack shook it.

"Gonna be a pleasure doing business with you, Lieutenant." Scagnetti said.

And just like that, the wheels of revenge had been set in motion.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing and enjoying! And to all the lurkers and those adding me to their alerts, I appreciate all of you!**

**Soccer:** _Forever faithful. I am constantly getting distracted. You know that. LOL.  
_**Hope4sall:**_I love Stella. Especially her wardrobe. LOL. I just wanted her and Mac to be happy. They deserve it. And Sam and Flack sexual tension at its finest. Don't worry, they'll get some at the end. I can't torture them too much.  
_**Forest Angel:** _I adore SMACKED. And if Sam doesn't like her surprises, I will gladly take them!  
_**Brrtmclv:** _Engagements are running rampant around the lab. And soon babies will be too.  
_**Mauveine:** _No worries. We're friends no matter what.  
_**Lost in New York:** _Welcome to my baby. Hope you stick around!  
_**ImaSupernaturalCSI:** _I wanted to write Mac and Stella so many times but then Carmen and Speed happened and I put off SMACKED. And Flack would win more than brownie points with me. LOL.  
_**Blue:** _Sam's got the 'I look like shit' baby blues. And they're both learning to love each other._


	78. Flack gets a redo

**Flack gets a re-do**

**WARNING: THE END OF THIS CHAP CONTAINS MILD SMUT SO IT'S RATED M. AS MY FRIEND LAPLANDGURL SAYS, JUST TWO ADULTS IN A NORMAL RELATIONSHIP, FOLKS**

"I set out on a narrow way many years ago  
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road  
But I got lost a time or two  
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through  
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you  
Every long lost dream led me to where you are  
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars  
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through  
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you  
But you just smile and take my hand  
You've been there you understand  
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true."  
-Bless the Broken Road, Rascal Flatts

* * *

A steady, soft breeze tousled the treetops in Central Park. Despite weeks of unseasonably cool temperatures, the evening was surprisingly warm. They took a cab to the east side of the park and slowly walked the paths hand in hand. Samantha was still in dark about the surprises that lay ahead of her and had quickly learned that all the begging and pleading and coaxing did little to get Flack to even offer up a hint to what he had planned. All she could do was follow his lead and try and relax and have a good time. Surprises made her anxious. She'd been that way since she was a little kid and still found it hard even at thirty one, to sleep on Christmas Eve. Maybe it was all those times her and Adam waited up for Santa Claus to arrive only to find out in the morning that he'd missed their house again. Because of how bad they were, her father always said.

She was damn well determined that her kids would never grow up like that. That they'd be loved and appreciated and treated with respect. Treated like they were human. Not like inanimate objects lying around the house. Doormats and punching bags. She was adamant they'd never know the pain and suffering that her and Adam did. And the man walking beside her, holding her hand so tenderly, his blue eyes sparkling every time he smiled at her, was the perfect person to help her make all that a reality.

"What are you thinking about?" Flack asked, breaking through the daze she'd gotten herself into. He sounded concerned. One minute she was laughing and chatting away happily and the next she was deathly quiet and her face and normally sparkling eyes were dark and sullen.

"We told the therapist I got pregnant two months into our relationship." she said. "And it was more like a month and a bit."

"What we told him was that you got pregnant really quick into our relationship." Flack corrected her gently. "And who cares if it was two months or two weeks? What difference does it make? It happened. Your pregnant and we're getting married and who cares how quick or how slow it all happened."

"But does it seem normal to you? I mean, does it not seem strange that things happened as quick as they did? Afer everything that happened with Zack and me and you professing to be a bachelor for life? All that and now here we are? Can that really be normal?"

"Define normal." Flack said. "'Cause what might be normal for me and you could be seriously abnormal for someone else."

She sighed and tightened her grip on his hand. "I just keep thinking about what everyone is probably saying about us. Pregnant and getting married so soon. I know they must talk about it. How bizarre it all seems to them."

He frowned. "First off, whose them?"

"The people we know. Carmen and Tim and Danny and Erica and all our other friends. Our families, even."

"Does it matter what they think? Shouldn't it just matter what you and I think? That we're happy together and that we're happy with how our lives are going?"

"It doesn't bother you at all?" she asked. "That people are talking about us?"

"No. It doesn't. And if they are, they obviously have nothing better to do with themselves and their lives must be pretty damn boring. And I don't get why it would bother you."

"It's not that it bothers me." Sam said. "I just…do you ever get the feeling we moved way too quick?"

"Sam, where are you going with this? Seriously? Just...do you think we moved too quick?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sometimes." she admitted.

He dropped her hand and stopped walking. Never in his life had he had someone say something so simple that broke his heart so badly. "Sometimes?" he asked, trying his best to disguise how hurt and angry he was. "What the hell is that suppose to mean? What is bringing all this on? How can one minute things be so great and the next minute you be like this? I don't get it."

"You said for us to be honest with each other."

"I know. But…..sometimes? What the fuck does sometimes mean? Why am I even here if that's how you feel? Why are we doing this? Having a baby and getting married and all of that if you feel that way? What? Is that why your with me? Because you got pregnant and you don't want to do it alone? 'Cause if that's what it is, you can leave now and I'll pay child support every month."

"That's not why I'm with you." she said. "And you're right, I don't want to do this alone. I want you to be there with me. But I'm with you because I love you and I want to be with you forever. Pregnant or not."

"Then explain to me what sometimes means. Because hearing you say that nearly ripped my fucking heart out."

"I'm scared, Donnie. I'm scared of how quick things went between us. I'm scared of how happy I am when I'm with you. I'm scared of how much I love you and how much you love me. And I'm scared that one day, I'm going to wake up and realize all of this was too good to be true. That you'll wake up and look at me and wonder what the hell you're doing."

He shook his head. "Never going to happen, Sam. Ever."

"That's why I said sometimes. Because it did happen quick and that's frightening. And what's more frightening is you deciding in the end that this isn't what you want. And that's why I feel that way. Not because I don't love you. Because….because I love you too much. Does that make sense?"

"No." he said. "It doesn't. None of this makes sense. Because one minute you're happy and everything is fine with us and the next minute your doubting everything. Worst of all, your doubting me. And there's nothing to doubt. And I've told you that over and over again and here we are having the same conversation. I love you, Sam. And I'm not going anywhere and you have to trust me about that."

"But you can't promise me that. Not in the job that you do. You can't even promise me that you're going to walk back in the door at the end of your shift."

"Where is all of this coming from? What goes on in your head where you suddenly come out with this stuff? Do you think about this stuff all day long and then you just let it out? Because I just don't get how you can be happy one minute and like this the next."

"Look what happened to Tim." she said. "When he was in Miami. He almost died that day in the jewellery store. And you with the bombing….you almost died then, too. And that's what scares me. The idea that one night I'm going to get a phone call that…"

"Stop. Just stop. Both you and I do a job where we know that can happen. And we accepted that a long time ago when we became cops. But if we spend the rest of our lives together worrying about stuff like that, we'll miss out on a lot. You don't think I worry the same thing about you?"

"Do you?"

"Of course I do. Every day you walk out the door or you go up to the lab and I stay downstairs. I think about how it would destroy me if anything happened to you. But I don't dwell on it. Because if I was to do that, I wouldn't be able to function and do my job and provide for you and the baby. And if we both do nothing but worry and stress over something we have no control of, we'll go crazy. Worst of all, we'll miss out on the fun, happy times because we're to busy worrying to enjoy anything. We'll miss out on just loving each other and our kids and…."

"Kids?" the sparkle returned to her eyes.

"Well, I want more than one. Don't you?"

She nodded. "Three of four wouldn't be so bad." she said.

"Then why don't you start thinking about things like that. Because when you do, your face just lights up and your eyes dance and you look happy. And I want you to be happy. Let's just concentrate on making a life together instead of things neither of us have a say over. We don't know how things will end. Anything could happen. There's a greater chance of getting hit by a car crossing the street than there is of either of us getting killed on the job. So what are you going to do? Never leave the house because you don't want to get hit by a car?"

"Of course not." she said.

"Then why worry? Why make yourself sick over things like that? Most of all, why prevent yourself from being happy? Because that's what your doing when you get like this. If I learned anything from the bombing, it was to live each day like it's your last. And that's what we need to do. Fuck everyone else around us and just concentrate on us."

A slow smile spread across her face. "When did you become so old and wise?" she teased.

"Everything changed the moment I met you. Before you, I was all about work and getting as many hours as I could. It was my life. And then you came along and became my life. I never realized how lonely and miserable I was until I noticed what a change you made in the whole grand scheme of things. I don't think you'll ever realize how much I love you, Samantha. And if I'm wasting my time here than…."

"What? No. You're not. And I didn't mean to hurt you when I said sometimes. All I meant was that I get a little scared when I think about how fast things happened. And I think maybe we wouldn't have the problems we do if we had have just slowed down and took it easy for a while. Really got to know each other and all that."

"We are getting to know each other. Okay, so maybe we should have done that before getting pregnant and deciding to get married. But we wants to do things normally and conventionally all the time? Who cares if we're a little backwards? We're getting to know each other now and we're getting help for our issues and it's no one's business what we do in our relationship. So fuck them if they don't like it and let's just get on with our lives. You think I agree with everything Danny does? He's the last person who should be talking about someone's personal life. And I don't give him grief over it. I just don't say anything at all. He's my best friend and I'll always have his back. But I don't have to see things the same way he does."

"And your family?"

"I gave up caring what my family thought a long time ago. And you shouldn't care either. About anyone or anything. Only thing you should care about is us. And the baby. Especially the baby. Because he needs you to take care of him for at least the next eighteen years. And how are you going to do that when you're too freaked out to live your own life properly?"

"Wow." she said with an appreciative nod. "What is going on with you lately? When did you become so deep?"

He shrugged and gave that boyish green. "I guess it's the new and approved me."

She grinned as well and came closer to him, laying her hands on his sides. "And what happened to the old Don Flack?"

"You mean the snarky, aggressive, assertive Don Flack?"

She nodded.

"He's around somewhere." Flack said, placing his hands on either side of her face, thumbs lightly stroking her smooth cheeks. "I only bring him out when people really deserve it. And when I know that side of me turns you on and gets you off."

"That's usually all the time." she laughed.

"Hey, whatever I gotta do. Whatever it takes. You want slow and romantic, that's fine with me. You want mean, aggressive cop, that's fine, too."

"Hmm….." she considered that. "Maybe tonight we can try a bit of both."

"There's no maybe involved. It's a sure thing." he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "So we're good? Me and you?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"You scared me with your whole sometimes. I was fearing the worst for a minute. Like you were trying to find a way out of all of this."

"The last thing I want is out of anything. And I'm sorry if…"

He silenced her with a long, soft kiss. "Never loose faith in us, Samantha. In me."

"I won't." she promised.

He kissed her a final time and took her hand. They walked silently for some time, enjoying the warm temperatures and soft breeze. And each other.

"You know," she said suddenly, lifting his arm and tucking herself into his side and snaking her arm around his waist, under the back of his jacket. Her other hand resting on his stomach. "There is one thing that could ensure I never, ever loose faith."

"Yeah?" he rubbed her shoulder softly and kissed the top of her head. "And what's that one thing?"

"'Fess up and tell me what all my surprises are."

He grinned and chuckled. "Not a chance." he said.

"I could use my interrogation techniques on you." she told him.

"You kidding? I'd never crack. I'm way too tough for you."

"I meant my special interrogation techniques."

"And what are those?"

She smiled devilishly and toyed with his belt buckle. "It's actually a special lie detector test I have. It's foul proof. You see, you take part A and insert it into Part B and I just wait to see how long it takes you to crumble. And trust me, you will crumble."

"What's part B?" he asked.

"Any part you want it to be." she replied. "And I mean any."

He couldn't suppress a shiver at that the thought of that. It was amazing how she could say and do so little but have so much of an effect on him. "Tell you what." he said. "Later on, you can try your little lie detector test and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. But for now, you aren't getting any information out of me."

She pouted dramatically. "You're tough. No wonder perps pee themselves talking to you."

"Just trust me, Sam. Everything that is going to happen tonight from here on out will make you happy. I promise. If it doesn't, then you can torture me all you want."

She giggled. "Now that seems more like pleasure than torture." she said.

* * *

Tavern on the Green was legendary in New York City. A staple for tourists and natives alike for over three decades. It was opulent and classy and had been the sight of movie premiers and celebrity and political gatherings. The Victorian Gothic structure had been built in early 1870 and had served as sheepfold for over 200 South Down sheep that grazed across the street in Sheeps Meadow. In October 1934, it had become a restaurant, complete with door men in full regalia at the entrance. The pomp and circumstance had long past, but the establishment on Central Park West at West 67th Street still remained breathtaking and popular. And damn hard to get into. Tourists were lined up at the door waiting for any tables that weren't reserved that happened to become open. The wait time exceeded over two hours. Anyone who was smart enough had long ago called ahead to reserve their table.

"How did you manage this?" Sam asked, in awe at the luxurious gardens they passed by just on their way to the front door. "I mean, I heard somewhere you had to call weeks in advance to get a decent table."

"I have connections." Flack replied. "And you said a couple months ago how you wished we could come here one night. Well, here we are."

"I didn't think you were listening." she said, as he opened the door and motioned for her to go ahead of him. She glanced up at the massive amber coloured chandeliar with thousands up thousands of crystals that glittered overhead.

"Just because I don't answer doesn't mean I'm not paying attention. I store everything up in my head and then use it when I need to. It's nice in here, huh? I mean, I'm normally not into this kind of thing, but even I have to admit it's nice. Always wondered what it looked like in here."

"I think it's beautiful." she gushed, taking in the stunning arrangements of fresh flowers and Tiffany style lamps and watercolour paintings on the rich mahogany walls. "And I think it's a wonderful surprise. Thank you."

"Just one of a few." he told her, as they stepped up to the front desk, behind which a harried hostess in a crisp black business suit and glittering diamonds was manning the phone and attempting to find tables for people hoping to get in.

"Welcome to Tavern on the Green." she greeted with a bright smile. "Reservation for two?"

Flack nodded and gave his last name.

"I'm sorry, sir." the hostess said after searching the list in front of her. "There's no reservation under that name."

He smirked when he realized why. "Try Bonasera." he suggested.

Sam grinned as the pretty blond hostess searched the list in front of her and then nodded in affirmation and used a yellow highlighter to stroke out the name. "So that's your connection." she said. "Stella knows everyone whose anyone I swear."

"She's good friends with the executive chef. I think they used to date or something. Stella's a good go to person."

"Remind me to thank her when I see her tomorrow. It was a really nice, idea, Donnie. It's beautiful here."

They followed the hostess through the busy restaurant and into one of the many separate dining areas. The Crystal Room had wall to wall floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Central Park and elaborate crystal chandeliers that hung from the extravagant, ornate ceiling. Tables were set with crisp white table clothes and fine bone china and sparkling crystal wine glasses and champagne flutes and boasted topiaries of fresh seasonal flowers and floating candles. The room was filled to the brim with diners as they were led to a table for two near the back, away from the main hustle and bustle.

Sam was awestruck by the beauty around her. She'd never seen anything like it except for on television and at the movies or in the celebrity gossip magazines she was slightly addicted to. She couldn't get enough of the sights and sounds around her.

Flack was struck by how innocent and naïve she seemed as her eyes shimmered and her face glowed as she looked around the dining room. And how stunningly beautiful she was. He didn't know what he'd ever done in his life to deserve someone like her, or how he'd managed to even get and keep someone like her, but he was eternally grateful for it.

A waiter came and offered up menus and took a drink order. They both opted for sparkling cider and ice water.

"You could have had something alcoholic." Sam commented, sipping her cider.

"I'm making a conscious effort not to drink so much." Flack told her. "I was serious today. With the therapist. About thinking I have a problem. Or at least the start of a problem. I don't like the way I always turn to booze when I get stressed or upset. That's not a proper way of coping. And I never had someone to model a proper way of coping so I'm not really surprised I am the way I am."

"You're not an alcoholic." Sam assured him.

"There's a problem, Sam. You know there is. I can't turn to booze and use it as a crutch like that. 'Cause it'll start out small and just keep escalating until it's a major thing. And that's not fair to you or any kids we have. I don't want to be like my old man."

"You won't be. You're too good of a person to be like him. I know the real you. What you're like outside of work and when you take off the badge and the gun. And I know that you will never be the same as your father. I believe in you. And I'm proud of you for taking this all so seriously."

"I just want to do what's best for us and the baby." he said. "I don't like how I get when I'm drinking. That angry, out of control feeling. Scares me to think I might do something stupid to you or our kids. And I'd kill myself if that ever happened."

"It takes a big man to admit all of that, Donnie." she said sincerely.

"Takes a bigger woman to be willing to put up with all of that." he told her.

She smiled. The candlelight dancing in her eyes and on her face.

God she was beautiful. He couldn't imagine ever getting tired of waking up to her every morning and falling asleep beside her every night.

Silence fell between them as they browsed their leather bound menus. After several minutes of reading and deciding, they placed an order for appetizers. Gazpacho and jumbo shrimp cocktail. And roast Maine lobster and Herb crusted fillet of beef for entrees.

"Do you think someone famous may have sat at this table once?" Samantha asked out of sheer curiosity, unable to stop looking around the elaborate, exquisite motive of the restaurant.

"Maybe." Flack said.

He knew very well her slight obsession with anything celebrity. The stack of gossip magazines taking up residence on the coffee table at home betrayed her. As did the information she could spout off the top of her head about famous people. He knew more about Britney Spears and Angelina Jolie from all the tidbits she'd toss out while she was reading and he was watching a game on ESPN.

"Like maybe someone like Audrey Hepburn or Elizabeth Taylor." she said excitedly. "Or even someone like Grace Kelly. Wouldn't that be something? If someone that famous sat right here?"

He grinned. Her youthful exuberance made her even more attractive.

"Maybe even someone like Princess DI." she gushed. "Imagine that?"

"I love you." he said. She couldn't get enough of the restaurant and he couldn't get enough of her.

She beamed and her eyes twinkled as she lifted her glass to her lips. "That beats any old celebrity." she said.

* * *

"Remember how I told you earlier that I was going to go in and have a talk with Gerrard and Sinclair?" Flack asked, an hour later, the dinner plates and dirty cutlery cleared away.

The meal had been amazing. He'd never tasted food better than that, even all the home cooked meals his mother used to whip up when he was still at home. Now he sat and drank a double espresso while Sam worked on a decaf tea and a massive bowl of crème brulee. Outside the sun had long set in a dazzling display of orange and pink and the garden patio of Tavern on the Green was awash in thousands of twinkling white lights strung in the trees and bushes and along banisters.

She nodded. "About your promotion?"

"I want to ask them for a new partner." Flack told her.

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Why? I thought you and Max were getting along just fine."

"We are. It's just…..I thought you'd be happy to hear I wanted away from her."

"You asked me to make an attempt to be nice to her and I am doing that for you. Not for myself because at this point in time, the impression and the reception I got, I can take her or leave her. But to make things run more smooth at work for you, I extended the proverbial olive branch this afternoon."

"And I appreciate that. You know I do. That you're willing to do that for me."

"There's not a lot I'm not willing to do for you." she said, digging her spoon into the elegant china bowl in front of her.

He grinned. "Yeah? Just how willing are you?"

She popped the decadent dessert into her mouth and pulled the spoon out slowly, her tongue teasing the end of the sterling silver cutlery. "I guess that's just one of those things you'll just have to find out later."

He had no response for that. Other than to stare at her in the candlelight and think about what a lucky bastard he actually was.

"So Gerrard and Sinclair." she said, bringing him back on track.

"Yeah….where was I? I can't even remember what I was saying."

"You get so distracted." Sam said and slipped her foot out of her shoe. "My ankles are sore. And my feet are swollen." she rested her foot in his lap.

"You're not that pregnant." he pointed out, looking down to see her toes -painted a deep red-lightly rubbing against his crotch. He was thankful that the white linen table cloth hung low enough that the couples and parties dining around them couldn't see what she was doing.

"Tell that to my closet full of clothes I can no longer fit into and my huge appetite." she said, continuing her ministrations under the table. "And Danny who insists on calling me Detective Preg-o."

"He has a bizarre fascination with your stomach." Flack said. "He's like a woman. Always wanting to touch it."

"Probably because he knows it's the closest he'll ever come to my goods so he might as well take the opportunity."

"That reminds me…."

"When doesn't something remind you of my goods." Sam teased, running her toes along his inner thigh, then up farther, gently caressing against his cock.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"No." she replied and used the tip of her tongue to scoop some dessert off the end of her spoon. "Do you?"

"I swear, you keep that up and me and you won't make it home before I take advantage of you."

"Where do you intend on frisking me? In the bushes? Cab? Alleyway?"

"What ever spot looks good at the time." he said.

"We'll see about that." she smiled and dug her toes into him. He had to sip espresso to keep back the moan that threatened to escape. "Gerrard and Sinclair…." she pressed once again.

"What was I saying?"

"About Gerrard and Sinclair and wanting a new partner." Sam reminded him.

"Right. So I appreciate that you're willing to go that extra distance and try and be friends with Max despite the rocky start the two of you got off to. But…."

"Always a but." she said, sipping her tea.

"I really, really want this promotion. It will be good for me to climb the ranks and making more money will be good for our family. Like I said earlier, it would be nice to have our own house with a nice yard for our kids to play in. In a decent neighbourhood. And I can't see being able to afford anything half decent on what I make now."

"I do have a pay cheque." she said.

"Sorry. What we both make now. And working with Max….I mean, she's a nice enough girl and she's a good cop and a decent friend and all that, I just….I just don't see anything good coming out of me and her working together. It's damn awkward sometimes and she has these issues that just get in the way of me being able to do my job effectively. I mean, the other night on that surveillance thing. Look what happened there."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Shit, Flack thought, wishing he'd just kept his big mouth shut. He'd never intended on telling her what had happened between him and Max that night. And now all because he just couldn't keep quiet, he could see a hell of a fight brewing.

"It's nothing." he replied. "Just a little misunderstanding."

"What kind of misunderstanding?"

He sighed and sipped espresso. "Promise me you won't freak out."

"Uh-oh. What happened?"

"Promise me."

Sam nodded and leaned back in her chair, a hand resting on her slightly rounded stomach. "I promise."

"I had to kick Max off the surveillance gig and send her back to the station." Flack told her.

"Why?"

"Well, she kind of….how do I put this…."

"Truthfully." Sam interjected.

"Max knocked my cell phone on the ground in the car and when we both bent down to try and find it…well our faces were like this close together and she tried to…..she was going to…"

"Spit it out, Donnie. Don't pull an Adam on me."

"Max was going to kiss me and I freaked out and kicked her off the job." he revealed, then prepared himself for either getting something tossed in his face or getting a kick in the groin from that foot resting, now motionlessly, in his lap.

Samantha stared at him and didn't respond. Instead she nodded slowly and looked out the window. After a few minutes, she turned to face him and reached for her tea cup and took a long sip. "Okay." she said.

"That's it? Okay?"

"What do you want me to say? You want me to rant and rave and freak out in the middle of Tavern on the Green?"

"Of course not. I was just expecting some kind of reaction, I guess."

She nodded. "I just wish you had have told me after it happened instead of waiting over a week to do it."

"I didn't want to upset you." Flack told her. "We're suppose to be doing whatever we can to avoid tense, high stress situations for you and by telling you that, that would have just stressed you out even more. So I handled it the way I thought was best. I kicked her out of my squad and radioed dispatch for someone to come and relieve her. I wasn't intentionally keeping things from you, baby. I wasn't trying to hide anything from you."

"I understand." she said.

He blinked. "Come again?"

"I understand. You were just doing what you thought was best to protect me and the baby. And I'm glad that you at least told me. Because you being honest like that? That just makes me realize that I can trust you."

This is different, Flack thought. He'd been expecting a major freak out in the middle of the restaurant and got the exact opposite.

"Is it my turn to be honest?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Women like that make me nervous. They have no respect for marriage or commitment. She knows we're getting married and having a baby. Yet she still has the nerve to try something like that? I mean, I want to try this whole friendship thing, but it isn't going to work when she's putting the moves on my husband."

"She's just lonely, Sam. She just wants someone in her life."

"Then tell her to find someone. Better yet, you find her someone. I mean, you know guys around the precinct. You know whose married and whose playing the field. Set her up with one of them. I mean, what about Rick Santucci? He's single. And he's pretty damn cute."

"Won't work. He's too caught up on Carmen."

"Well that's a loosing battle. Tell him to try someone more available."

"I am not playing matchmaker. She can do her own dirty work."

"Then in the meantime, maybe you can tell her that you share these things with your wife and that will get her to back off a little."

"Doesn't hurt to try." Flack agreed. "So you're really not pissed?"

"Disappointed a little that she'd try that and be all friends to my face. But pissed? No."

Her breathed a sigh of relief. "So you see why I need to talk to Gerrard and Sinclair? I can't concentrate on my job under those circumstances. And this chance at becoming Sargant? It's a hell of an opportunity for someone my age and I want it bad."

"I know." she said. "And you know that I'll support you a hundred percent, right? No matter what decisions you make. I'm behind you, Donnie. Always. You know that."

He nodded and reached across the table and picked up her hand. Kissing it softly he looked into those golden eyes that had captivated him from day one.

"I was thinking maybe we should start heading home." he told her.

She entwined her fingers with him and smiled delicately. "I think that's a nice idea." she said.

* * *

They opted not to walk back to the east side of the park where the taxi had dropped them off. Instead, Flack had a better idea. One he'd been a little reluctant about when planning the moment and what would come during it in his mind earlier in the day. Romance was not his specialty. And in past experiences with women, when he did try to be romantic and sweet and loving, he always felt so fake. Like he was putting on some kind of air that completely disgusted him. He was usually the beer and pizza and a game of pool type. Or lounging on the sofa watching a game. So when the thought of a horse drawn carriage ride popped into his head while planning on how to make night memorable for Sam, his initial reaction had been one of disbelief. Because he'd never had a desire to do something like that for anyone.

But Sam wasn't just anyone. So as he waved down that carriage and swallowed a bit of pride, he pointed out that he was green to all of this romance stuff. To which she smiled and kissed him and let him know that that was okay by her.

"Detective Flack, right?" the carriage driver, a young man in his early thirties with a thick Brooklyn accent and shaggy dark hair, asked after a few minutes of putting a name to the face that was now climbing into his ride.

Flack nodded. "I know you?" he asked.

"J.J." the driver said as he stepped up into his seat. "J.J. Huntsville. Remember me?"

Flack shrugged. "Sorry. I run into a lot of people in the span of one day. Can't recall them all."

"Dead dude found in the park wearing a suit of armor? A lance sticking out of his chest?" the driver attempted to jog Flack's memory. "Guy took my carriage out for private ride and left me his wallet for collateral and then my horse turned up in Central Park sweatin' like a bastard?"

"You tried to use his credit card to buy yourself a steak and it was declined." Flack added. "And all you worried about was getting your horse back."

"Horses aren't cheap, detective. And she never was the same after that."

"How you been J.J?" Flack asked, settling himself on the bench alongside of Samantha.

"Good. Business is booming. Tourists love this sort of thing. This your girl?"

"My wife." Flack told him.

"Yeah? Guess life has been damn good to you, huh?" he was watching Sam as she crossed her her legs delicately. The woman wasn't very tall and didn't have legs that stretched to her ears. But they were slender and smooth and damn fine. "Damn good." he added with a slow, impressed nod.

"Turn your ass around and just drive this damn thing, J.J." Flack said, grabbing the blanket the was beside him and unfolding it and wrapping it around both him and Sam.

"Where you folks heading? Scenic tour?" J.J asked.

"Whatever your most popular thing is." replied Flack.

"Never pictured you the horse drawn carriage type." J.J commented.

"What us guys won't do for love." Flack said. "Now do me a favor and drive."

"Sex in the carriage, I charge an extra fifty."

Sam laughed. "People actually do that?" she asked.

"All the time."

"Well we tend to have a little more self respect." Sam said. "Not a lot, but some."

"Too bad." JJ chuckled. "That would be a hell of a show."

"I'll give you an extra fifty if you just turn around, shut up and drive." Flack said.

"For fifty I'll put on my Ipod and pretend you guys aren't even here."

Flack pulled out his wallet and leaned across the carriage to drop a few bills into J.J's lap.

"Your wish is my command." JJ declared and popped the phones for his Ipod into his ears.

"Do you know everyone?" Sam asked, as Flack put his arm around her and she snuggled tightly into his side.

"A case from a year or so back. Guy playing Sir Lancelot stumbled out of Central Park and fell, dead, with a lance sticking out of him. Turns out Lancelot had turned the park into Camelot. Jousting and all."

"Where was Guinevere?" Sam asked.

"Turns out Giunevere and Lancelot were part of some suicide pact. Four young people, all dying of various things, who decided to check out on their terms. Other guy died in a ritzy hotel room, ice pick sticking out of his brain stem, after having sex one last time. One of the girls dolled herself up as Marilyn Monroe, swallowed a whole whack load of pills and lied down and OD'd."

"And the fourth person?"

"She chickened out. She had cancer. Read in the paper she died about six months ago. Shortly before I met you."

"That's sad." Sam said sincerely. "To be so young and be so sick. I wouldn't ever want to go through that."

"I wouldn't want to see you go through that." Flack told her, tightening his hold on her and kissing the top of her head. "I couldn't take seeing that. Or loosing you like that."

"Well hopefully, you'll never have to." she said and turned her face up towards him.

He kissed her softly and prayed to God he never had to either.

It was a beautiful night. Thousands of stars twinkled in the black velvet sky and a cool breeze rustled the tree tops. For a long time neither of them spoke. They just relaxed in the warmth of each others bodies and the peacefulness of the park.

"Flowers, dinner at Tavern on the Green and now a carriage ride?" Sam spoke at last, her head resting on his chest, her hand on his stomach. "Very unlike you, Donnie."

"I just figured you deserved more than hanging out on the couch at home with a movie and take out." he said.

"But you know that that's okay, too, right?" she asked, sitting up straight and looking at him. "I mean, you know I don't expect this kind of thing, right?"

"Of course I do. I just wanted to do something like this. Show you that I try my best to be romantic and sweet and loving and all of that."

She smiled and kissed him. A long, soft kiss that quickly progressed when she felt the press of his tongue against her teeth and she opened his mouth, her tongue meeting with his. She shivered when his hand slipped from her shoulder down her back, fingertips grazing her bare back before settling just above her ass. His other hand disappeared under the blanket and rested briefly on her knee before slipping up the bottom of the dress and drifting along her thigh. Her one hand was on the back of his head, holding her to him as they kissed, alternating between long and slow and hard and deep. Her other hand travelled from his stomach, over his belt buckle and lower. She smiled against his lips when she realized how aroused he already was.

"Maybe we should just head home." she suggested when the need for air became a necessity and the kiss ended.

"Not yet." he said.

"Well judging by the state the two of us are in and we won't have sex in the middle of Central Park, I don't know if waiting is a very good idea."

"There's something I need to do." Flack said, suddenly feeling nervous. He had no idea why he felt that way when he'd already asked the question once before and she'd already said yes. But this time, he wanted to say and do the right things.

"Okay." Sam said. "What is it?"

"There's only one regret that I have when it comes to me and you." he told her. "Asking you to marry me in the bathroom."

She laughed. "It was a moment, Donnie. We had just found out we were having a baby."

"But I wanted it to be perfect for you and it was far from perfect. And I am determined to make it special. For both of us."

"It was special." she assured him. "I don't need perfect. I just need you."

"I just need to do this."

"What are you planning to do? Ask me all over again?"

He just smiled and reached into his jacket and pulled a small blue box from the inside pocket.

"Are you and Tiffany's becoming close?" she teased.

"Just thought I'd get you a little something. Something you can wear with your engagement ring and wedding band. We go next week to get those by the way. I picked out three different styles I think you'll be okay with and we can go before that appointment for your blood work and decided what we want."

She smiled. "You are just full of surprises tonight."

"It's a full moon." he reasoned. "Now, I didn't prepare a speech or anything like that before hand, so I am just going to say what I feel so if I look or sound stupid…"

She kissed him tenderly. "You won't." she assured him.

He opened the box. Inside was a white gold band with channel set diamonds all the way around it and slight engraving on the edges. Edwardian style, the sales clerk had called it. He plucked the ring from the box with the fingers on his injured hand and took her left hand in his.

"I can't really get down on one knee in here." he said.

"It's okay."

He sighed heavily. "I'm going to sound like such an idiot."

"Just speak from the heart, Donnie."

"You'll think I'm a moron."

"Never." she assured him.

"Okay…..Samantha, the second that I met you outside the lab that day, I knew you were different. I'd never met anyone like you. Or known anyone like you. And I never, ever felt those things for someone that quickly. When you kissed me in your brother's kitchen…"

"Wait!" she interrupted. "I kissed you? That's not what happened."

He grinned. "I kissed you." he corrected himself. "But you kissed me back. And right then and there, I knew that you were the one. I know that sounds really, really corny and all. Everything we've been through? All the fights and disagreements and your father and Zack? It was all worth it to get to this moment. I'd walk through hell for you, baby."

Tears sparkled in her eyes. "I know." she said, and touched his face gently.

"And I know I'm not always the nicest, most loving, romantic guy. And I know we're both scared sometimes, but I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to have all my children. So even though, technically I already asked, will you marry me?"

"Yes." she answered quickly. "Without a doubt in my mind."

He kissed her softly and she removed her engagement ring briefly so he could slip the band on.

She pushed the engagement ring back down, than took his face in both her hands and kissed him deeply.

"I love you." he said, breathless from their kiss.

"I love you, too. Now can we go home? You can take me home and make an honest woman out of me?"

"I can try." he said with a grin.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Take me home, Donnie." she said.

He couldn't think of any other place he'd rather be.

* * *

From the moment they stepped off the elevator they heard the all too recognizable sounds of an amorous couple engaged in an obviously intense love making session. Both Flack and Sam knew exactly where it was coming from. Their next door neighbours to the left. Trish and Angie, the new same sex couple 'life partners' as they called themselves, who'd moved in two weeks ago and had been nothing but perfect, if not extremely sexual, neighbours. They were giving Sam and Flack a run for their money in the noise department. Just yesterday, as he was locking up the door while leaving for a run, Trish had come out of her apartment in baby doll pyjamas and said good morning and informed him that her and Angie got all hot and bothered listening to him and his wife having sex. And that by the sound of it, he was obviously doing something right.

"Whoa." Sam giggled at a particularly loud scream. "Lucky girl. Wonder what move brought that on? You should go over and knock on the door and ask for pointers."

"I'll try not to be offended by that." Flack said as he unlocked the door.

"Is it wrong that listening to that so turns me on?" Sam asked.

He grinned. "Absolutely not."

"Think me and you can take them? Make more noise than that?"

"Tell you what," Flack said and pushed open the door. "Get your ass in there and we'll find out."

The door didn't even get locked. The they stepped inside the dark, quiet apartment and that door closed, he grabbed her and kissed her savagely, pushing her back against the door roughly. That moment was all about sex. A quick, uncomplicated fuck to relieve tension and suffering. Her hands yanked his shirt out of his pants and then made short work of his belt, zipper and button on his pants as his lips devoured her neck. His hand pushed up the bottom of her dress and he hooked his fingers in the waist band of her panties and then yanked them down. Falling to his knees in front of her, he peeled the panties off of her and tossed them aside and then kissed his way from the side of her knee to the nest of dark curls between her legs.

His tongue delved between her moist lips and found her clit. A few flicks of the tip of his tongue and she spasmed and cried out and dug her nails into his scalp. He stood up and quickly removed his own clothes and threw them aside. Grabbing her once more, he picked her up off of her feet effortlessly with one arm and entered her with a hard, fast thrust. She cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain and wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to his shoulders.

It was rough and quick. She came once more, screaming his name and her muscles tightening around him. He pounded into her a few more times before the sensation of her teeth digging into his neck sent him over the edge. They stayed there against the door for several minutes, panting and trying to compose themselves.

He kissed her, than pulled out of her slowly. "You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "That is exactly what I needed." she said with a happy sigh.

He smiled and locked the door. "Let's go to bed." he suggested, and scooped her up into his arms.

"Lets." she agreed.

After they showered and climbed into bed clothes, they lay in the middle of their bed, cuddled close together. The moonlight streamed through the window as they faced each other, her arm and leg draped over top of him and her face buried in his chest. His face was in her hair, a hand on her growing stomach.

"Thank you." she said.

"For what, baby?" he asked.

"Everything. Everything about the night was so perfect. I had such a wonderful time. And my dinner companion was very handsome and charming."

He smiled.

"And thank you for making me realize it's okay for things to happen that way between us. The sex I mean. That we can love each other and still be that way."

He tightened his grip on her. "I can't wait to call you my wife. Legally."

She giggled. "I can't either. I was thinking that…" she stopped mid sentence and pulled back to look at him.

Flack was looking down at her stomach. His eyes sparkling and a soft smile on his lips.

"Did you feel that, Donnie? That almost rippling kind of feeling? Like bubbles bursting." she giggled once again, louder this time. "There it is again. That's the baby. You finally got to feel him or her."

Tears sparkled in his eyes as he finally witness the miracle of life inside of her. He kissed her softly.

Life never felt so perfect.

**A great big thank you to all of you who are reading and reviewing! I could not to this without all of you!! And welcome to newcomers and lurkers. I promise to go back to personal review returns next chap. And please check out my new story, Views From Brooklyn!**


	79. We all fall down

**We all fall down**

"We took 'em high, we took 'em straight up the hill,  
They wanted it all, we gave 'em such a fill.  
In their parades we stole every thrill  
And in their games we made every kill.

We took them hard, we took them up against the wall.  
In their loss we never let them fall  
In their flames we sailed up to the moon  
In their rains we slayed dry like a fire would.

So the bottom of my fears  
Is that the girl might just disappear,  
But that'll be the death of me,  
The day she's just a memory."

-Another One in the Dark, The Wallflowers

* * *

The sound of the phone ringing jarred Flack out of a deep, peaceful sleep. Five days had passed since he'd made the confession about Max trying to kiss him on the stakeout and he'd never slept so good as he had once he got that off his chest. A guilty conscience was an awful thing and it killed him every time he looked at Sam and thought about what he was keeping from her. He had debated telling her numerous times. Mostly because he was afraid, out of sheer spite, Max just may hunt her down and tell her and let on that he was into it. But the thought of causing problems for her and the baby had remained first and foremost in his mind and he couldn't take the risk of anything bad happening to them. He would have rathered facing her wrath than allow anything to happen to her or his unborn child. And five days after the fact, he remained stunned that she'd dealt with the news so calmly and maturely. Now he felt, in his heart, that they were making definite headway in their relationship and that things were going to be okay.

He cracked open an eye and took a peek at the illuminated numbers on the bedside clock radio. 4:47 am. Shit, he thought and rolled over onto his side and reached for his cell phone that was lying somewhere on the night stand, ringing incessantly. It was a vain attempt to not wake the warm, sleeping body tucked in tightly beside him. His fingers brushed against the flip phone and then it slipped off the table and tumbled to the floor. There was a dull thud as the phone hit hard wood and then a scrapping noise as the phone skittered under the bed.

"Sonofabitch!" he hissed. A little too loud because he felt the warm body move beside him and the touch of her hand on his back.

"Donnie?" her voice was weary. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." he said, and the phone started ringing once more. This time under the bed.

"The phone's ringing." Sam stated the obvious.

"I know that." he nearly snapped and climbed out of bed. "I have to find it before I can answer it."

"What happened?" she asked, sitting up in bed, holding the sheet to her bare chest. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and saw him through the darkness, on his hands and knees beside their bed.

"I knocked the phone under the bed." he replied angrily.

"It might be easier to find it with a light on." she gently suggested.

"Samantha…..don't say a word, okay?"

"Don't be such a baby." she said and scooted across the bed and reached for the lamp and switched it on. Gathering the sheet around her, she yawned noisily and leaned back against the headboard and watched the look of irritation and anger on his face as he continued his search. "Are you sure it's under there?" she asked.

"I heard it fall."

"But are you sure it fell under the bed?"

"Samantha…." he warned. "Go back to sleep."

"Kinda hard with the phone ringing so much." she said.

He gave her a look that clearly meant 'Don't push it' and she held her hands up in self defence and lay back down. On her side, face on his pillow, breathing in that strong, masculine scent that was so uniquely him. She realized how much she'd miss that smell if he was no longer around. And she reached out and combed her fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head and smiled at her. Touched by that simple, yet loving gesture. "I'm a dumb ass." he said.

She shook her head.

Flack finally located the phone by the head board and he scooped it up. It had started ringing again and he checked the call display. The number was from the ATF agent that was heading the raid on the docks. The raid had been scheduled and cancelled three times since the initial planning session. Flack hadn't been too thrilled at the idea of taking himself, or some of his guys into another raid after what happened with the Wilder bust. The bust had gone down okay, but he still didn't feel too good about putting a hole in the one guy's chest and he sure as hell couldn't forget the aftermath. Danny and Adam being taking hostage and beaten and the crime lab being taken over. He was homicide. Raids weren't his specialty. But he also knew, with a chance at a promotion, that Gerrard and Sinclair would be watching very closely how he did this time around.

He flipped his phone open. "Flack." he answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and using the fingers of his bad hand to wipe his weary eyes.

He briefly wondered how he'd manage taking part in a raid with a damn cast on his hand. He heard the rustle of the sheets as Sam moved closer to him. Then felt her hair brush against his bare back as she laid her head against him. Her arm snaked around his waist. He smiled and stroked her arm softly and listened to the orders being curtly given over the phone.

"Who was that?" Sam asked, pressing a kiss to the small of his back as he snapped his phone closed and tossed it onto the nightstand.

"Agent Nelligan from ATF. The guy in charge of the raid. Says it's going down today."

"Today?" she asked. "When today?"

"Seven o'clock. They want me at the precinct for six."

"Think it will actually go down this time?" she asked.

"Who knows." Flack sighed. "And I was having one of the best sleeps of my entire life, too."

"Poor baby." she said and pressed kisses across the small of his back.

He shivered in spite of himself. The woman had that effect on him. And he knew, if he didn't get up off of that bed, there was a great chance he wouldn't be making it in time for the raid.

"I need to take a shower." he said, rubbing her arm a final time before slipping out of her grasp and standing up. "Shave. Brush my teeth. All that good stuff."

"Do you want me to tape the plastic bag around your cast?" she asked, sitting up in bed and motioning for him to hand her the t-shirt that lay at the foot of the bed. Every night she wore pyjamas- whether it be maternity ones or a shirt of his- and every night they ended up discarded somewhere in haste.

"I can do it." he said and tossed her the t-shirt.

"I know you can do it." Sam pulled the shirt on over her head. "But I was asking if you wanted me to do it."

He smiled and leaned over the bed and kissed her. "Thank you. But I'm okay."

"I'll make you a coffee than and something to eat. You can't leave without putting something in your stomach. You know you always feel sick if you don't eat something in the morning."

"You need to stay in bed and get some sleep." Flack told her.

"I'm fine, Donnie." she assured him. "Let me do something nice for you."

"Nicest thing you could do is lie your pretty little head down and close your eyes and get some sleep. All right? You need to get as much rest as possible."

"I'm pregnant. Not dying." she reminded him. "Please, Donnie. Let me do something nice for you. Something that makes me actually feel like a wife. I mean, I know I'm not your wife yet, but I will be soon and doing something for you makes me feel like I am already and…."

He silenced her rambling with a kiss. "Promise me you'll go back to sleep as soon as I leave." he said.

"I promise." she told him, and slid out of bed. The vertigo hit and she suddenly felt dizzy and had to reach out and lay her hand on his arm to keep herself steady on her feet.

"You okay?" Flack asked, circling her waist with his arm and leading her back to the bed and gently forcing her to sit down. He would normally give her hell for getting out of bed that fast and chastise her about bringing all these problems on herself, but he'd promised himself to make a conscious effort to be more sympathetic to her ordeal.

She nodded and closed her eyes and rested her head against his stomach. "Please just make this stop." she said.

"Few more months, baby." he told her, stroking her hair softly.

"Make this all go away, Donnie. The nausea and the dizziness and the fatigue. I can barely function some days. Please just make this all go away."

"I know it's all a pain in the ass and nothing has been easy for you. And if I could make all of it disappear and let you enjoy the rest of this pregnancy, I'd do it. Shit, I'd carry the baby for you if I could. But honestly? I don't think I could. I'm too much of a wimp when I get a cold. I could never be pregnant and go through childbirth. I'd never survive."

"It's why women are the chosen ones." she said, raising her head slowly. "Because men are wimps."

He smoothed her hair away from her face and pushed it behind her ears and then went to the nightstand on her side of the bed and uncapped the bottle of water sitting there and brought it to her. Lately, the woman who once was able to sleep through anything, had been getting it three or four times for something to drink and double the amount making trips to the bathroom. He handed the bottle to her and waited for her to down it in one long sip.

"You okay now?" he asked.

"I think so." she replied. Then slowly stood up.

"You good?"

She nodded and attempted a smile. "I'm sorry. Usually I'm not such a wimp. But this….this is kicking my ass. I thought I'd handle it better. And I never thought I'd get this sick and have so many problems."

"I say next time, we just get a dog." Flack quipped.

She managed a laugh. "We'd still have to take it for walks and pick up its shit."

"True. But at least it can't miss curfew and tell us to fuck off when he's twelve."

"Twelve? They tell you to fuck off at five now. What planet are you living on? So coffee? Some toast?"

"Sounds good." he said and kissed her. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." she told him with a smile and headed from the room.

He noticed, when she bent down to pick up a discarded sock on the floor, that she wasn't wearing anything under that shirt. He bit his bottom lip at the sneak peak of ass he got when that shirt hiked up. And felt that stirring in his groin. She was so completely oblivious to how crazy she drove him. He was thankful when she stood up once more and headed from the room.

Better make that a cold shower, he thought.

* * *

She made him fresh coffee and a couple pieces of toast and filled a travel thermos with coffee so he could take it with him. It was just past a quarter after five when he came into the kitchen, hair damp from his shower and wearing a pair of navy blue cargo style pants and a short sleeve t-shirt and found her already parked in front of her lap top at the kitchen table. Case folders piled beside her.

"You're obsessed." he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

"Mac wanted me to go over some ballistics reports that he says don't make any sense. So far, I see what he means. A lot of the information on here is contradictory. I don't know if it's just techs that don't know what they're doing in the lab or they just don't know how to file a proper report. Did you know I had to go for that blood work today?"

"I did. I was the one who wrote it down." he sat down at the table with the toast and coffee. "Why? Didn't you?"

She smiled sheepishly. "I forgot. And I wouldn't have even thought of it until I saw your note on the side of the fridge. Maybe I can get my brother to take my blood at the lab instead of having to go all the way to Women and Children's. It's a long subway ride."

He was about to say, no subways and offer money up for a cab, but decided she may just find that a little too overprotective. "Do whatever you think is best." he said instead, biting into the toast.

She cocked her head to the side and arched an eyebrow and regarded him with a 'what has gotten into you' type of expression before taking a sip from the steaming mug of tea sitting next to her.

"And I'm suppose to go out to lunch with Max this afternoon." she told him with a sigh.

"Lucky you." Flack said. "Try not to get into it with her. No one's there to play referee."

"I was thinking of dragging Carmen along, but I don't think it's a good idea. Carmen is liable to break Max in half. She hates her."

"Carmen's just watching out for you. Just promise me you'll refrain from any acts of violence."

She made the sign of the cross over her heart with the tip of her index finger. "Cross my heart hope to die. I will be a good girl. I am trying to be civil to prevent you from having to work in sheer hell everyday."

"Thank you." he said and winked at her.

"But I am going to come right out and be completely honest with her."

"Sam, I know what being honest is all about with you. And usually, it's brutal honesty."

"I'm just going to tell that that I'm not a hundred percent comfortable with the two of you working together and that I don't entirely trust her and I'd appreciate it if she kept her hands, and her lips, to herself. I have a right to stick up for myself and my family. And no woman in this world would sit back and tolerate that kind of shit."

"I just don't want you having a massive freak out." Flack said. "Last thing I need is a phone call saying your in the hospital with problems."

"I promise you I'll be good. No temper tantrums. I will just be calm and composed and ladylike."

He smirked.

"I promise." she insisted. "My best behaviour. I swear. Or were you trying to suggest I'm not ladylike."

"I would never suggest a thing. Besides, I know you're all woman. I've seen you naked."

"You mean I never told you my deepest darkest secret?"

"What's that?"

"I was really born a man. I just got changed over a few years ago."

"Yeah? In that case, I want the name and the number of your doctor so I can sent him some kind of thank you gift. Because he worked miracles and turned you into one hot, sexy woman. 'Cause if those aren't real," he nodded at her chest. "Then he's a damn genius."

"They are one hundred percent real." she declared. "And they're getting bigger and hate it."

"I love it." he said and finished the toast and the coffee and stood up.

"Yeah…..but you're dirty." she informed him as he rinsed his dirty dishes and dropped them into the sink. "Don't forget that we see the therapist tomorrow. We have to go those lists done."

"Already done mine." Flack said. "A long time ago."

"How hard was it to find five things you love about me?" she inquired.

"Not as hard as it was to find five things I hate about you." he responded, and putting a hand on the back of her chair, bent down to kiss her.

"Sure. I bet you found about fifty things you hate." she teased and turned her face up towards him for a long, warm kiss.

"Actually, it was forty nine." he said.

She frowned.

"Joking. Just joking. I got stuck on three and gave up." he ran a hand over her hair and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I gotta go." he said reluctantly.

"You can't go out dressed like that." she told him and pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She went into the living room and came back into the kitchen a short time later holding a long sleeve, black thermal shirt she'd plucked out of the clean basket of clothes by the couch.

"It's cold outside." she said simply and held the shirt out to him.

All these simple, tiny gestures from her touched him more than he ever thought possible. And he drew her tiny body in his arms and kissed her with everything he had and held onto her for what felt like an eternity. They went through this same ritual of sorts each time he got called out. She'd get up and make him something to eat and a coffee and they'd laugh and joke around about something like it was just another day, and then something she'd say or do would make his sensitivity chip go haywire. And he'd kiss her and hold her and find himself near tears at the thought that it may be the last time he ever got to do it.

And Flack had never been that pessimistic before. There was always that fear in the back of his mind that something could happen. But this new breed of fear was first and foremost in his heart and mind and nearly made him sick to his stomach.

"Please be careful." she pleaded in a near whisper, her arms around his torso, her face buried in his chest.

"I will." he assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Try not to worry too much, okay? It'll probably just get called off like the last three times. And promise me you'll go back to bed and get some sleep before you go in."

"I promise." she said and pulled away from him, attempting to hide the obvious sparkle of tears in her eyes. She turned away from him and began tidying up her papers and folders in order to keep her frayed emotions in check.

Flack knew telling her to get rest was all in vain. That as soon as he walked out that door, she'd either have all that paper work back out again or she'd gone on a house cleaning frenzy. It was the way she attempted to get her mind off of him being placed, willingly, in harms way.

He tugged his t-shirt up and over his head and slipped into the long sleeve one she'd given him then pulled on the t-shirt once again.

"Sam?" he spoke quietly, gently.

"Hmmm?"

"I have to go now." he told her.

"Okay."

"I'll call you when I get a chance. To let you know what's going on. All right?"

"That's fine." she said.

He grabbed his badge from the top of the fridge and clipped it to the waist band of his pants, on the opposite side from his holster that he'd gotten from the lock box in the bedroom.

"Call and leave a message if you need anything." he told her, snagging his car keys off the microwave and shoving them in his pocket. "And I mean anything."

She nodded and continued shuffling papers.

He sighed and crossed the kitchen to stand behind her. Laying his hands on her shoulders he leaned in close and buried his face in her hair. Breathed in the feminine, floral scent of the shampoo that still lingered. And was assailed by the sudden irrational fear that there may never be another moment like this for the rest of his life.

"Samantha….." he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Don't say anything." she begged and brought her hands up to rest on his.

So he didn't say another word. They just stood there in the silence of the kitchen, overcome by their fears. And their love.

* * *

It had been nearly five hours since he'd left the house, and Samantha still hadn't heard from Flack. After he'd left she'd sat on the couch wrapped in a flannel blanket and had a long cry that in the end had exhausted her and sent her off into a deep sleep. If it hadn't had been for Carmen calling and wondering why she wasn't in the downstairs lobby waiting for her usual ride in to work, she wouldn't even be where she was now. In the relative silence of the trace lab. Running samples for Mac through the GC/MS and working on her five things I love/hate about you. It was a relatively slow day. Only two new cases. She could have preferred more work to keep her mind off of her worry. Her irritation that he hadn't bothered to get in touch with her after so long was showing up in what she wrote.

He has no concept of how much I worry about him and doesn't take it seriously when I tell him. He doesn't call to at least let me know he's alive. He leaves dirty socks on the floor and the toilet seat up and the empty milk carton in the fridge. He nags me about taking better care of myself. He' too possessive.

She could have went on, but scolded herself for being so spiteful.

She sighed and glanced at the clock above the door. Where the hell is he? All the worst, irrational fears were clogging her brain. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. But tried to reassure herself that if there was, someone would get a hold of her.

"What'cha working on?" Adam asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

Sam jumped. She hated being snuck up on like that. Especially when her nerves were frayed and she was ten times as skittish.

"Jesus, peanut." she scolded him. "You scared me."

"Sorry." he said sheepishly. "You busy?" he asked, leaning against the end of the table.

"Just waiting on some samples for Mac to get through the Mass Spec. And working on my 'what I despise about you' homework."

Adam arched an eyebrow. He drummed his fingers on the table top and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"For our therapy." she explained. "What's up? You need to go to the bathroom?"

"No. Why?"

"You shifting like that makes me want to go pee. Are you okay? You seem a little antsy."

"Do I?" Adam asked.

Sam nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Too much caffeine. You know how I get. I was thinking, I've got some spare time right now and we can go and I can get that blood taken from you. I mean, I can take the blood for you. If you want me too. 'Cause I have some spare time. Like, right now."

"Adam, you're rambling." Sam said.

"Am I? I wasn't aware that….."

"What is wrong? I can tell when there's something wrong. I know you very well."

"Nothing's wrong." he assured his sister. "I just had a triple espresso and I am just flying because of it. You want to head down and let me take that blood and I can send it off right away?"

"I don't know." Sam frowned. "Can I trust you to not collapse my vein or miss altogether?"

"I'm not that bad. I just have some spare time right now and the GC/MS will probably still be running when you get back here. So it's a good time for both of us. I mean, I'm free, you're pretty much free. Can't get any freer than me. Wanna go?"

Sam sighed and flipped her notebook closed. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I can tell you're not dropping it until I say yes."

"You're very intuitive." Adam said. Then nearly collided with her when they went to walk through the door at the same time. He stepped back, held up his hands in surrender and nodded for her to go ahead of him.

"You're acting really strange." Sam complained as she stepped out into the hall. "More strange than usual. And that's damn scary."

"I am completely harmless." Adam assured her and followed her out of the room. He glanced over his shoulder, back to where Speed and Danny were watching him and Sam go from a discreet distance. He nodded at them.

Danny and Speed looked at each other. Understanding passed between them without a single word. Then they went their separate ways.

* * *

Carmen yawned noisily and stepped back from the high powered microscope. Her head was pounding and her eyes were blurry from staring at the same fibre sample for the last half an hour. She was tired. Beyond tired, actually. She and Speed had spent the majority of the night packing the last of her things and cleaning the place up before the big mouth on Saturday. She was excited about finally getting into the new place. She knew that even though the time would probably be short lived before she and Speed managed to get their own place, her and Sam were going to have a hell of a time together. They always had lots of laughs together and could spend hours talking and gossiping. It was going to be like having a long, long sleepover. And as immature as it sounded, Carmen longed for a night in her pyjamas eating pizza and ice cream and junk food and talking about her man with her best friend.

Now if she could only find such joy in staring at carpet fibre…..

She caught sight of someone breezing into the room and she glanced up to see Speed striding purposefully towards her. A look of business on his dark, handsome face. A kit in each hand.

"We gotta new crime scene." he informed her.

"We? As in me and you?"

"Everyone else has partnered up and headed out. I thought you'd like to work with me. Gives me the chance to break the news instead of someone else."

Carmen frowned. "What news?" she asked.

"About the crime scene."

"What about it? You're usually not this grave over crime scenes."

"It's Flack."

Carmen would have sworn her heart stopped. "What?" she could barely get the word out.

"Not him per say." Speed said. "But the raid he was involved in. It went bad. Really bad. Five cops injured. Three fatalities. Including a detective."

Her head swam. "What about Flack?"

"As far as I know, he's shaken up but he's fine. I think he's got some cuts and bruises but nothing serious."

"Does Sam know?"

Speed shook his head. "Mac said to keep it from her for now. He's trying to protect her and the baby. Adam is distracting her."

Carmen nodded. "Good idea." she said quietly, her brain trying to process what she was being told. It was the first time during her years with law enforcement that she was being called out to a scene that involved a friend. And she could only imagine how worse the shock had have been if the outcome had have been more tragic.

"But you're sure he's okay?" she asked Speed, worrying about Samantha and how'd she'd never survive if anything happened to Flack.

"He called Mac. Mac said that other than sounding really shaky and saying he was a little banged up, Flack was fine."

"What kind of banged up?" she asked.

"I don't know." Speed replied. "But we really need to get going."

She nodded but didn't move to follow him to the door.

He glanced back and saw her standing there at the table, staring out the window. "Carmen?" he called.

She looked at him.

"We need to go." he told her gently.

She snapped off her latex gloves and tossed them in a nearby trash and headed towards him.

"You have to secure your evidence." Speed reminded her, nodding in the direction of the samples laid out on the table behind her.

She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath to compose herself. Get her head back on straight. Then she went back and took out the sample from the microscope and put it back in a small plastic basket with the others. All of which she locked in a drawer under her station.

"You going to be okay?" Speed asked her as she joined him at the door. Concern etched on his dark, handsome features. He laid a gentle, comforting hand on her shoulder.

She nodded. "I can't help but think how Sam would cope if something happened to him."

"She wouldn't." Speed said simply and honestly. "But nothing happened to him. And that's the important thing to think about right now. That, and the fact that you need to get your head on straight because we have a job to do. And if you're too personally involved with it…."

"I'm fine." Carmen assured him. Steeling herself.

Speed arched a sceptical eyebrow.

"I'm fine." she repeated and brushed past him and headed out into the hall.

There was little more he could do other than follow.

* * *

Flack's ears were ringing. His headed pounded ferociously. He sat, on the tailgate of an ambulance, with an ice pack wrapped in a towel held to his forehead. The towel soaking up the blood that oozed from a deep, inches long cut just above his left eye. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. He held out the hand in the cast and watched it tremble. He'd been willing it to stop for the last twenty minutes. His heart hammered in his aching chest and he felt cold despite the warm blanket one of the EMS workers had draped around his shoulders.

What the hell happened? he wondered for the at least the hundredth time in the last forty-five minutes. Had it really been that long? It felt like it happened only moments ago. One minute they were storming the place and then all hell broke loose. He wasn't sure how many initial gunshots he heard or how many gunmen were in there, but in less than a minute, the cop in front of him was dead on the floor at his feet and in sheer panic, one of the DHS guys made a run for it and when Flack turned briefly to yell at him to get his ass back there, someone caught him in the small of the back with a knee and sent him face first into the cement. The damage to his forehead was done when the assailant flipped him over, held a handgun to his head, said Motherfucking pig and pulled the trigger.

By the grace of God, someone was watching over Don Flack Jr from up above, because the gun jammed. He'd heard that dull click of the weapon malfunctioning and locked eyes with that perp above him and did what Danny Messer always said to do when in doubt. He head butted the perp in the mouth, and was rewarded by the barrel of the gun being slammed into his forehead. That just pissed Flack off even more and despite the blood seeping into his eyes, he clocked the guy with his cast. Then pulled himself to his shaky feet, grabbed his own weapon that had fallen to the ground, and permanently put the perp down. He knew there'd be hell to pay about that. He'd taken the life of an assailant that was injured on the ground. IAB would want to roast his ass for sure. But Flack didn't care. All he cared about was the dead cop and the fact that only ten minutes before, Flack had been standing in that exact spot.

The team leader had told them to switch places. He was anal about liking the tall, big guys closer to the back. Just in case a bad guy made a break for it and he'd be stopped by guys strong enough and capable of, putting him through the pavement. Flack had thought how stupid that sounded. It was up to the guys up front to not allow anyone to make a run for it. What did it matter how big and tough you were when you'd let your weapon do all the talking if it came down to it. But he hadn't argued. It wasn't his place. It wasn't his raid like the Wilder thing had been. He'd simply switched spots and that was that.

And now he thanked God for being just a bit bigger and more solid than he was two years ago. Because if he hadn't have been, it would have been him on his way to the morgue.

He winced as he pulled the towel and ice away from his face. Picking up a bottle of water resting beside him , he used most to wash away the sweat and blood on his face and neck. Half of it wasn't even his. A mixture of the dead cop who'd caught a bullet in the neck and the perp that Flack taken out with a bullet to the back of his head. He could hear IAB now. They'd call it in execution and make him the department scapegoat for things fucking up as bad as they did. Same thing they did with Mac over Dobson. He could kiss the idea of a promotion goodbye. And he'd be lucky if he had his job still at the end of it all.

He dropped his head between his knees and forced himself to take deep, steady breaths. The shaking was unreal and he couldn't warm up no matter what he did. And now anxiety seemed to be kicking in. He'd had it before. The first few crime scenes after the bombing, when even a loud noise on the street would cause him to nearly jump out of his skin. Or he'd wake up from a nightmare drenched in sweat and his heart pounding. He'd long ago learned out to handle an anxiety attack.

But the shaking…..

"Flack?" Carmen's voice came from his left side and he felt her hand on his shoulder.

He didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing his arm soothingly.

"Sam's not here is she?" he asked in response.

"She's at the lab. No one's even told her what happened."

"Good." Flack said and straightened up and took a sip of the remaining water. "I need to call her and let her know I'm okay. In case she hears the news and thinks I'm the dead cop."

"Why don't you let EMS take a look at you and you can call her afterwards?" Carmen suggested.

"They looked at me and said I was fine."

"You have a hell of a cut. Maybe you should let Hawkes look at it and see if he suggests going for stitches."

"Carmen, I'm fine. Okay? It'll stop bleeding soon and I'll be fine."

She nodded. Knowing arguing with Flack was like arguing with a brick wall. And that no good would come from trying to get the upper hand. She nodded at Danny in greeting as he stepped up on the other side of Flack.

"How ya doin'?" Danny asked his best friend.

"Can't stop shaking." Flack replied honestly. "Or get warm. I'm freezing."

"Shock." Danny told him. "You wanna talk about what happened? Give me some sort of heads up?"

"We waited almost five hours to get the call to go ahead. Five hours. And we get all set up and what not and the team leader from ATF tells me and this other cop to switch spots because he wants the bigger guys at the back. Taking control, I guess."

"That the dead cop?" Danny asked.

Flack nodded. "Brendan Doyle. Detective third grade. One of my guys. Has a wife and a newborn at home."

Carmen sighed and put her kit on the ground and snapped it open.

"He caught it in the neck." Flack continued, shock and disbelief etched on his handsome face. "I tried when it all calmed down in there to do something, but there was nothing I could do to help him. Half you seen him? His throat is blown away almost. I tried but…." he stopped and shook his head. All he could think about was working with that kid. All the questions Doyle often lobbed his way. The innocence and exuberance Doyle did his job with.

"There was nothing you could have done, Don." Carmen assured him, snapping latex gloves onto her hands.

"Less than a month ago I sat beside him in that ATF and DHS meeting and he was on my case because Sam sent me this text message……he was always this happy go lucky kid. His wife and him were high school sweethearts and he always walked around bragging about her and their kid. He didn't deserve this. He was just a kid."

"Things happen for a reason." Danny stated. "If he hadn't have gone before you, that would be you dead and department officials calling Sam and giving her the news. So what happened when you guys stormed the building?"

"I don't know. It's just a blur. I heard gunshots."

"How many?"

"A few. Rapid shots. From an automatic. People starting diving for cover and firing back. I don't even know if I saw anyone."

"Someone announce you're guys arrival?" asked Danny.

"Yeah. NYPD, ATF all that shit you yell when you go in." Flack replied.

"What happened to your face?" Danny inquired.

"Perp nailed me into the ground from behind and…."

Danny frowned. "You turned your back?"

"One of the DHS guys punked out and went to run. I turned to yell at him to get the fuck back there."

"And?"

"And someone nailed me from behind. Then flipped me over and held a gun between my eyes and yelled motherfucking pig and pulled the trigger."

Carmen and Danny looked at each other. Both shivered at the thought of how close to death Flack had come.

"Gun jammed." the detective continued. "He nailed me in the head with it and I head butted him to get him off of me."

Danny grinned. "Works every time. What happened next?"

"He rolled off of me and was crawling for my weapon and I grabbed it and I shot him."

"Where?"

"Back of the head. Why are you asking me all of this? You sound like….." Flack glanced over and frowned at the sight of his best friend standing there, log book in his hands. "You're taking my statement?" he asked incredulously.

"Mac wanted me to get your version of events." Danny told him. "And Carmen needs to swab your hands for GSR."

"Why? I just admitted I killed the guy."

"Procedure, Flack. You know that." Carmen replied.

"We also need your weapon." Danny added.

"This is fucking bullshit." Flack declared and stood up. He yanked the gun from his holster and held it out to Danny.

"This the one you shot the perp with?" Danny asked.

Flack nodded. "There's also a department shot gun in there that will have my prints all over it."

"You fire it?"

"Couple shots before the perp took me out. Don't know if I hit anyone. I could have. I just….." Flack's voice trailed off and he shrugged.

Danny set the safety and removed the chamber and handed it to Carmen, who deposited the weapon into her kit. "What about your backup gun? You use that at all?"

Flack shook his head.

"We need t take a look at all your weapons, Flack." Danny told him.

"I can't believe you guys are doing this." he said, shaking his head in disgust and lifting his pant leg to take his backup gun from the holster near his left ankle.

"We have a job to do." Danny told him. "You shot a perp in the back of the head. IAB is going to have a field day with that."

"You're suppose to be my friend, Danny. Not out to get me."

"I'm just doing my job." the CSI told him. "This isn't personal, Flack."

The detective snorted and reluctantly held out his left hand for Carmen to test for GSR.

"Mac doesn't want you talking to anyone from IAB until a department lawyer sees you first." Danny told him.

"Yeah?" Flack waited for Carmen to finish her testing and then stood up. He tossed the blanket back into the ambulance and the towel and ice pack on the tail gate. "Well Mac isn't my boss. I'll talk to Gerrard and see what he wants me to do. And you know what, Messer? I never went like this when you went off all half cocked and killed Ronnie Minhouse."

Danny frowned. "That's totally different."

"You're right. It is. I shot an armed suspect who tried to kill me. You shot a cop."

"I didn't know he was a cop." Danny argued. "You know that! And it wasn't me in the end that killed him either. Don't bring this up now. One has no bearing on the other."

"I stuck up for you." Flack reminded him. "Aiden and I worked our asses off to prove that you didn't do it and you have the nerve to stand here and tell me what I did was wrong? All the times I've stuck up for you, Danny. All the times you fucked up and I supported you. Rikki Sandoval? Ring a bell?"

Danny snorted and shook his head and bagged Flack's gun and walked away.

"I should have locked her ass up the second she stole your gun." Flack called to his friend's departing back.

"Let it go, Flack." Danny shot back without stopping.

"I gave you a chance, Messer. I let you make the right decision. I should have just locked her up and then you go down for that. Instead, what do you do? You sleep with her. The grieving mother. Because you've got this massive guilt over what happened to Reuben. All through that I supported you and you come here and shit all over me?"

"We're just doing our jobs, Don." Carmen told him.

He smirked and shook his head. "Then go and do it on someone else." he said and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Carmen shouted after him. "Mac is going to want to talk to you."

"Tell him to talk to my department lawyer first." Flack responded. "Anyone needs me, I'm going to the lab."

"Don't get her all worked up Flack. Try and keep her as calm as possible."

"Try minding your own business." he said and stopped at a cruiser and asked the uniform inside to give him a lift to the crime lab.

Carmen watched him as he climbed into the front passenger seat of the cruiser. The young uniform climbing behind the wheel and then peeling away.

"Everything okay?" Mac asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched the cruiser speed off.

Carmen nodded.

"Where's Flack going?" her boss inquired.

"Somewhere more important." she said.

* * *

Samantha couldn't concentrate. On anything. She had a stack of case folders to go through, more samples to run and medical forms regarding maternity leave and benefits she had to sign her life away on. Yet all he could think about, even as she sat wincing while Adam gently and professionally took a blood sample from her arm, was why in the hell she hadn't heard from her future husband yet. It had been six hours since she'd last spoken to him at the door of their apartment and he had kissed her goodbye and promised to call.

She heard very little her brother said as he talked endlessly about anything and everything under the sun. He rambled about his and Gus' plans for attending the John Mayer concert at Madison Square Gardens on Saturday night and then spending until Monday morning at The Days Inn Times Square. He even talked about popping into a comic book store in Tribeca and nearly fainting in joy as he found a complete collection of Star Wars figurines, in their boxes, circa 1974. The nearly fainted from shock at the total overall price tag.

Sam made a mental note that once she got her money, she was heading to said store and buying them for him for Christmas.

They were sitting in the break room. Adam had insisted she sit down and have orange juice and some cookies, knowing from past experiences that she didn't handle blood loss, even the smallest amount, very well and needed to keep her blood sugar up to avoid passing out.

When she mentioned the raid and how concerned she was that Flack hadn't called and she hadn't heard a damn word about it from anyone and that she found it bizarre that all the CSIs including Mac had been dispatched out to crime scenes at the same time, she noticed that Adam got even more fidgety and on edge.

And she decided to call him on it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Adam replied, when she asked just what the hell was going on.

"You've been acting strange for since you came looking for me about my blood work. Like you're tweaking on something. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I……"

"Adam…."

"Sam, I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I…"

"Adam!" she snapped. "Enough!"

He sighed and rubbed his palms along his coffee mug. "It's about the raid." he admitted.

"What about it?"

"I was supposed to distract you. Keep you occupied. Mac asked me to keep you out of the labs for a while because he didn't want any talk getting back to you because he was worried about you and the baby."

Sam felt her chest tighten in dread. "What is going on, Adam?"

"There was a problem with the raid."

"What kind of problem?"

"I guess things didn't go the way they were planned. They went really, really, really bad. Some injuries, fatalities."

"Any cops?" she asked, her voice choked.

Adam nodded.

Sam felt light headed. Her stomach ached. "Adam…..don't…..please tell me none of them were Don…."

"He's okay." Adam assured her. "He called Mac and said he was a little sore and banged up but very much alive."

Sam stood up. Needing more details. Answers. Her legs felt weak and she placed her hands on the table top to steady herself.

Adam was on his feet in an instant and around the table, wrapping a secure, comforting arm around his sister's slender body. "Sit down, Sammie." he said. "Sit down and take it easy."

"You're sure he's okay?" she turned teary, pleading eyes to her brother.

"Mac said he sounded fine. A little banged up and shell shocked, but fine."

"I just…..I was worried about him all morning….when did this happen?"

"About an hour ago now. I guess the raid got held up for a few hours. Sit down, Sammie, before…."

"No." she shook her head vigorously. "I can't…I can't be here right now…" she slipped away from her brother and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Adam asked, chasing after her.

"To get some goddamn answers." she replied. "Right from the horse's mouth. Or should I say horse's ass?"

"I don't think I like the sound of that." Adam said and hurried after her.

* * *

Gerrard was behind his desk, a hand to his pounding head as he listened to the head of DHS giving him the lowdown on the massive fuck up that morning that had cost the NYPD two valued members and sent another four to the hospital. The press was all ready parked outside of One Police Plaza demanding details and names and pictures of the dead from Sinclair. IAB was breathing down Gerrard's neck at the news that one of his detectives, according to witnesses, had blatantly executed a man he had in the position to arrest. And naturally, that detective would be Flack. Of all detectives it would be the one Gerrard and Sinclair saw the most promise in. And Flack had gone AWOL and wasn't answering his cell phone.

Gerrard could only hope that Flack was acting with his brain and on his way back in. Sinclair had all ready arranged for a department attorney to talk to him before IAB got their claws into him.

The door to his office banged open with enough force to nearly shatter the glass and he was on his feet as a furious Samantha Ross stormed in.

"Where the hell is my husband!" she yelled.

"Detective, I am in the middle of a phone call and you can't just storm in here like this!"

She slammed her fingers down on the cradle of the phone, disconnecting the call. "Tell me where my husband is!" she demanded.

"I don't know." Gerrard admitted, getting to his feet. "Now you're going to have to leave before I have you removed from my office!"

"You put him on that raid even though he was injured to see if he could prove himself! He shouldn't have even been there with a broken hand! But because you and Sinclair and all the old school boys have a hang up about him measuring up to his father's reputation, you sent him anyway! Now tell me what the hell happened and where he is!"

"I don't know. On both fronts."

"Bullshit!" she raged. "Fucking bullshit! Is it that important that he becomes the department golden boy that you'd sacrifice him to prove a fucking point! Or is it because you want to see him fuck up so you and Sinclair and his bastard father can all laugh about it later!"

"Samantha…." Scagnetti, seeing her storm through the bullpen and into Gerrard's office, had come running when he heard her yelling. More for Gerrard's sake than hers. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Samantha…."

"Get her out of here, Scagnetti!" Gerrard roared. "She wants her badge, you get her the hell out of here!"

"If anything happened to him I will hold you responsible!" Sam threatened. "And I will fuck you up five ways from Sunday old man! If he even as so much of a scratch on him you will pay! Understand me!"

"Scagnetti…" Gerrard fumed. "Get her out of her before she does something to that baby she's carrying. Calm her down."

"Come on, Samantha." Scagnetti had to forcibly remove her from the office. An arm wrapped around her trembling body. "Flack's fine." he assured her, leading her into the bullpen area, past the curious and concerned eyes of other detectives and civilians. "Come and sit down and…."

"Just leave me alone." she huffed and pushed the big man away from her.

She went to Flack's desk and flipped through papers and folders on the top looking for something that gave away the location of the raid. When she found nothing, she began opening drawers and tossing things on the ground and on top of the desk and on the chair before she finally found a hastily scrawled note with an address for a building near the Port Authority.

She grabbed Flack's car keys from the top drawer and hurried out. Ignoring the whispers and the stares as she rushed through the busy bullpen area, out into reception and through the front doors. Out into the bright sunlight that burned her eyes and dried the tears of worry and anger on her cheeks. Jumping at the sound of squealing brakes as a patrol car screeched to a halt at the curb a few feet away. She kept going. Determined.

Behind her a car door slammed open and then shut again. Followed by heavy footsteps hurrying to catch up to her.

A hand fell on her arm. She didn't need to see who it was. She just knew. Something in the touch and the smell that accompanied the person that came with it. She turned around to face him. Seeing nothing but the darkness and despair in those usually vibrant blue eyes. Not the dried blood on his face or clothes or hands or the nasty, deep gash above his eyebrow. Just those eyes.

Tears of anger and worry turned into ones of sheer relief.

"Sam…." his voice was a near whisper. Unable to say more.

"It's okay now." she said.

He shook his head and reached out and pulled her into his arms.

She held on to him as tight as she could. As he clung to her and stroked her hair and wept into her shoulder.

"It's okay now." she repeated reassuringly, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I just….I need to….I just need you to hold me."

She said nothing in return. She knew he didn't need a response. Instead, she tightened her hold on him and they stood there with the sun blazing down and nothing existing outside of being in each others arms.

"Don't ever let me go." he pleaded.

"I don't plan to." she said. "Ever."

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. And to all of you who are adding me to alerts. I appreciate each and everyone one of you. I would have sent review replies but I was getting ready to post and realized the b/f has erased my in box messages. Nice.**

**I am plugging:**

**Views from Brooklyn: written by me**

**A Tale of Two Girls: Aphina This is a fab story featuring both Aphina's OC Carmen Devine and my Sam along with all your other favs from CSI:NY. It's a wonderful read that is a little funky and unconventional and shows both OCs in a different light, but so worth the read. Show her some love peeps!!**


	80. Bruised, Battered and Unbroken

**A/N: THIS CHAP IS RATED A STRONG T FOR SLIGHT, SLIGHT SMUT. IF YOU'RE EASILY OFFENDED, I SUGGEST SKIPPING THE THREE OR FOUR PARAGRAPHS. **

**Bruised, battered yet unbroken**

"I got out of bed today, Swear to God I couldn't see my face  
I got out of bed today staring at a ghost  
Who forgot to float away,  
didn't have all that much to say  
Wouldn't even tell me his own name

Where'd my body go  
Where oh where'd my body go? Africa or Mexico?  
Where or where'd my body go? Where'd my body go?  
Have you seen my ghost?  
Staring at the ground?  
Have you seen my ghost?

Sick of those goddamn clouds  
Are you some kind of medicine man?  
Cut the demons out of my head  
You can't kill something that's already dead  
Just leave my soul alone  
I don't need no surgery  
Take those knives away from me  
Just wanna die in my own body  
A ghost just needs a home."  
-Weighty Ghost, Wintersleep

* * *

Samantha busied herself in the kitchen. She'd never been much of a cook. More because she didn't have the time to do it, not for the lack of skill. In university she'd been the anointed meal maker. Mostly because she could think of at least ten different uses for a package of ground beef and two or three veggies and some decent spices. Money for groceries was usually scarce once the partying was out of the way, so she looked for the best deals to get more for her buck. Now, when her schedule permit it, she made her way into the kitchen and thoroughly enjoyed preparing a meal. It was always more fun when you had someone to share it with.

Mac had sent her home after he learned of Flack showing up at the lab looking for her. Her boss was the first one to make sure that she and the baby were well taken care of. And the stress of seeing her future husband in such a condition had been enough to nearly break her. Although she was sure what he had been through was ten times worse than what he looked liked. She had attempted to get him to open up about it several times but got nothing but silence or a shrug or a shake of his head. They'd sat for two hours in the ER at St. Vinnie's just waiting for a doctor to come to put twelve stitches above his eye and take his vitals. His blood pressure and heart rate were both highly elevated and another two hours were spent sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair at Flack's bedside while he was hooked up to an EKG so a cardiologist could monitor things.

All that time his hands wouldn't stop shaking and he kept complaining about how cold he was despite the mound of warm blankets the nurses kept supplying them with. Now, armed with a prescriptions for both anti anxiety medication and Ambien to help him sleep, Flack had taken up residence on the couch with a beer in one hand and the remote control for the tv in the other. He said little and barely moved. If it wasn't for the changing of the channels, Sam would have thought he was asleep. She was worried that he was closing himself off. She'd seen it happen to many a good cop. Traumatic events turning them into ghosts of who they once were. And she couldn't bare the thought of that happening to him.

"Don!" she called to him. "It's almost done. You want to sit in here with it or out there?"

"Out here's fine." came the response.

Well that's three words, Sam thought with a sigh and moved to the cupboards by the sink. She opened them and stood on her tip toes to reach the plates. Why she hadn't thought of asking him to move the dishes down where she could reach them without needing a stool was beyond her. Before she could easily open the cupboard under the sink and stand on the ledge to get them down. Now with her ever growing belly and balance issues, she had to give up that practice. She stretched as far as she could and suddenly felt a sharp, burning sensation in her stomach. Lower right hand side. It took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes and she put her palms on the sink ledge to steady herself.

Don't do this to me, she pleaded. To us. For once can something go nice and smooth? Can one part of our lives be somewhat normal?

"Sam?" Flack's voice behind her. Quiet and worried at the sight of her nearly bent over the sink. She felt his hand on her shoulder, his warm breath on the back of her neck. "Baby, you okay?"

"I just….I think I stretched too much trying to reach the plates."

"You have pain?"

"A little. But I don't think it's anything to worry about. I probably just pulled a muscle or something. I'm fine. It's going away now." she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"You wanna go and get checked out? Just in case? Better to be safe than sorry."

"It's nothing, Donnie. It's going away now. Like I said, I probably just stretched a little too far."

He knew better than to argue with her. And knew that she'd never put the health of herself and especially of their unborn child in jeopardy. That he just had to trust her to make the right decision. And she knew her own body and what the trouble signs were. He ran a hand over her hair and went to the fridge and got out a bottle of water. Uncapping it, he brought it to her.

"Thank you." she said and he kissed her cheek before getting the dishes from the cupboard for her.

"All you had to do was ask." he told her.

"I know. I'm sorry." she sipped water and moved to the stove. "I just thought I could do it. I've always been able to do it before."

"Things are different now." he reminded her gently, placing the plates beside the stove and then getting utensils and glasses and the milk container and carrying everything back into the living room.

Sam wondered just how different. Did he just mean the baby or did he mean the way things had went down that day had transformed him into a completely different person. The second option both frightened and worried her. She didn't know the whole story of what went down and he refused to tell her, but she could tell by that haunted look in his eyes that he'd been through sheer and utter hell.

She'd made a quick casserole with bow tie pasta, canned tomatoes and shredded cheese melted throughout. It was one of his favorite meals and thought maybe something even that simple may bring at least a hint of a smile out of him. She scooped generous helping on each plate before switching off the over and joining him in the living room. His eyes riveted on ESPN yet not really seeing anything.

She sat the plates down on the coffee table and stood between his legs and looked down at him.

Flack looked up at her.

She smiled, pushed his hair off of his forehead and pressed a gentle kiss between his eyes.

His hands resting on her slender hips, then slipped around to her swollen stomach. He bent down and pressed his lips to her tummy.

No words needed to be said. All their emotions and feelings laid bare in simple gestures.

"Eat up." she said, her hand on his shoulder as she lowered herself down onto the couch. "I know you said you aren't that hungry but I made tons and you can always eat more later for a snack or take it to work with you."

"You need to eat more than I do." he said, digging into the steaming food.

"Well we're not talking about me right now." Sam told him, trying to ignore the fact that his hand was still trembling. "We're talking about you. I think you're a little more important at this point in time."

"I'm not an invalid, Sam." he said defensively. "Or a baby."

"I never said you were."

"If I can get through having my stomach torn apart in a bombing, I can get through today."

"Donnie, I never meant anything by it. Okay? I just wanted you to know that what's going on with you is first and foremost. I'm fine. The baby's fine. Let's concentrate on you for once. All right?"

He nodded.

They ate in companionable silence. The sportscasters on television providing the only conversation in the room. Sam poured herself a tall glass of milk and sipped slowly. The pain in her stomach had thankfully subsided. She hoped it wasn't going to be a recurring thing that would send her to the hospital numerous times in the next few months.

"Adam took my blood today." she said, attempting a least some form of interaction. "So we should have the results back in a few days."

"You nervous?" Flack asked.

"Not really. I have a good feeling that things will be okay this time around. I can just feel it. And the super from the new building called to verify the move in time and to say that the cable people and hydro people both came yesterday and hooked everything up. So we won't have to go without. I couldn't live without my internet or my e-mail."

"It's definitely your weakness." he agreed. "So we'll know the results soon?"

She nodded. "Are you nervous?"

"A bit." he admitted. "I just want everything to be okay. I mean, we deserve that at least, don't we? 'Cause I am seriously starting to wonder why God has such a serious axe to grind with me."

"Maybe I'm just bad luck." Sam scoffed.

"Don't ever say that." he scolded her. "Because I sure as hell would never think it."

She leaned sideways and pecked his cheek. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked. "Do you have a headache? Blurry vision?"

"Little bit of a headache." he replied. "But that's the concussion. I took some Tylenol. It'll work soon."

"Doctor Masterston called and he said he cancelled both appointments for this week and that he won't re-schedule until you're feeling ready to go back. And he told me to tell you that he hopes you're feeling better soon."

"Just something else I'll have to go to therapy for." he said dryly.

"And Sinclair left a message and said he wants you to take a couple days off and then see if you're feeling up to coming back for weekend graveyard. He wants you to call him about coming in to talk to him and Gerrard and a union lawyer before IAB gets a hold of you."

Flack just nodded.

"Donnie…..why would IAB and a union lawyer need to talk to you?" she asked.

"IAB always gets involved with the shit hits the fan regarding anything with the department. You know that."

"I know. But a lawyer too? Why do you need a lawyer?"

"I don't." he said, and sat his fork on his now empty plate and stood up. "Are you done?" he asked, noticing she hadn't touched any food for the last ten minutes despite the fact the plate was half full.

She nodded an watched him as he picked up her plate and headed into the kitchen. Normally he would have been practically shoving food down her throat. Always worrying about her not eating properly and not taking better care of herself or the baby. And while she was relieved that he'd backed off a little, she found herself actually missing his protectiveness a little bit.

But her main concern was, despite the nagging pain in her stomach, was his current mood and unwillingness to talk about what had happened earlier that day. She knew very little. He had said that one of his guys had been killed and four others, including an ATF agent, had been injured and treated and released from hospital. He'd also told her that one of the perp's had gotten the upper hand and that a struggling ensued and that was when the cut above the eye had occurred. She knew by his evasiveness that there was more to the incident than that. It was just a matter of encouraging him to talk about it.

She finished her milk and journeyed into the kitchen. Flack was at the sink, scrubbing their dishes and she sat her glass in the soapy water and grabbed a towel to lend a hand.

"Donnie…" she said, after an overwhelming period of silence. "Why do you need a department lawyer? Are you in trouble?"

"It's no big deal. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Did you do something wrong? Because I'd rather her it from you than through the office grapevine."

"Just worry about taking care of yourself and the baby, okay? And if you do hear anything, just don't react. Ignore it."

"Well what am I going to hear?" she asked.

"Sam, let it go. I don't want to talk about it."

"But you should talk about it." she told him, her voice quiet.

Flack sighed. "I will. Okay? I just don't want to talk about it right now. All right?"

"I'm going to hear it when I go back to work. And I don't want to find out that way. And if someone says something bad about you, I'll snap and me snapping does not do either of us any good. Case in point, Gerrard and my melt down."

"Wish I had have been there to see that." Flack said with a slight laugh and pulled dishes from the rinse water and sat them in the rack.

"The point I am trying to make is that I would much rather hear the truth from you instead of bullshit from other people. You can talk to me about it. You know that right?"

"Of course." he said and yanked the plug from the sink to drain the water. Then used cold water to clear out the left over soap.

"Then why don't you tell me? The whole story."

Flack grabbed a handful of paper towels and dried off his hands. "I'm going to go and lie down for a bit." he said.

"Donnie, don't do this." Sam pleaded.

"If you need anything, just come and get me."

She caught his hand as he went to leave. "You know it's not smart to bottle stuff up." she said.

"Anyone calls, just take a message." Flack kissed her cheek and left the kitchen.

Sam listened as he turned off the television and then padded down the hall. Heard the soft slick of the bedroom door as he closed it behind him.

She sighed and fought back tears. She desperately wanted to go after him and hold him as tight as she could and kiss away all the pain and the sorrow. But she knew the best thing for him at that moment was to deal with things is own way.

That he would come to hear when he was ready.

* * *

Sam tried to immerse herself in work. She covered the leftovers and popped them in the fridge and tidied the kitchen. She finished up reports for Mac both on paper and on the computer. The latter she e-mailed to him and then placed a call to Adam's voice mail asking him to pop by and pick up the others and hand them in for her in case she didn't get back to work in a couple of days.

She stretched out on the couch and listened to her iPod and tried to concentrate on her current chapter of What to Expect When You're Expecting. She was halfway through when she heard the bedroom door click open over the low volume of her music. She glanced up and pressed pause on the player when Flack appeared in the doorway.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I love you, Samantha. But I just can't talk about what happened right now. You understand right?"

"Have you been lying in there all this time thinking about that?"

"I know I probably seemed like an asshole brushing things off and pushing you away like that. I hope I didn't hurt you're feelings."

"I understand it's hard for you to talk about things. I just want you to know that you can come to me and talk about them. When you're ready."

He nodded. "I was just thinking…maybe you can come in and lie down with me. I mean, if you're not too busy or you don't have anything better to do. I don't want to talk or anything. I just want to feel you beside me."

She removed her ear phones and turned off the iPod and sat it and her book on the coffee table before standing up. She walked over to him and laid her hands on his sides and smiled up at him.

He bent down to kiss her softly.

She took his hand. "Let's go and have a nap." she said and pulled him down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom. "Just no trying to get fresh with me." she teased.

"Probably be the first time we're in the same bed and not getting fresh with each other. I mean, you're okay with that right? If I don't feel into that kind of thing? It's not that I don't love you or I'm not attracted to you. 'Cause I am. It's just that…."

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Don. Okay? Sometimes we just need to be with each other. In ways other than intimate ones. Don't you think?"

"I just didn't want you thinking I wasn't attracted to you or anything like that."

"That's just plain silly." she said, yanking the comforter down on the bed.

They lay down on their sides under the thick covering. Her back tucked into his chest and her bottom into his groin. His arm around her and their fingers entwined as their hands rested lightly on her stomach and his face buried in her hair.

"Samantha?" he broke the sleepy silence that had enveloped them.

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For how you were today. Sticking up for me to Gerrard like that. Staying with me at the hospital."

"I'm practically your wife, Donnie. Why wouldn't I have stayed? You honestly don't think I'd make you go throw all that one your own, do you?"

"No….but I just want you to know that I appreciate everything you do for me. Everything you put into us. I know I don't act like it sometimes, but I do value you and what we have."

She smiled and tightened her grip on his hand.

"And thank you for him. Or her. You have no idea how much having a baby means to me. And when I think about how I almost wasn't there to see our baby born…."

"But you are here." she told him. "And you will see it."

He nodded.

"What happened today, Donnie?" she asked quietly. "Please tell me."

"I…." he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I killed someone today."

She said nothing. She could tell by the emotion in his voice that he was struggling with coming to terms with taking a human life. As police officers, you were trained to first apprehend and arrest. But were made to realize that there were times you had to act as judge, jury and executioner within a matter of seconds. It was never an easy thing to do. She'd done it three times in her career and needed intensive therapy afterwards despite all three being deemed good shoots as a member of ESU. She wasn't sure how many times Flack had had to shoot to kill. They just never spoke of the darker side of the job.

"He would have killed me first if I didn't." he added quickly, as if feeling the need to defend his decision to her. "I fucked up. I turned my back for a second to give one of the DHS guys shit for bailing and this perp just nailed me into the ground from behind. I never should have turned my back."

"It's not your fault." she told him, rubbing his arm softly.

"Then he flips me over and sits on my chest and holds a gun to my forehead….I think it was a rifle…might even have been the one I dropped…I don't know…and he calls me a motherfucking pig and pulls the trigger."

Sam squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the flood of tears that threatened. Hearing him talk about how close he had come to death that morning shook her to her very core. Her chest tightened. She felt sick to her stomach.

"No one was more surprised than me when that gun jammed. I mean, what's the chances? Probably never jammed before. It was only a few seconds, but I swear it felt like an eternity. You know how people talk about their lives flashing before their eyes when they're on the way out? It's true. All I could think about was what a shitty fucking way it was to go out. When for once I had so much ahead of me. Someone relying on me to come home in one piece. How I wanted to get married and see my kid born and watch them head off to school and graduate college and see them get married and have their own kids. And it pissed me off that this sonofabitch was going to try and take all of that away from me and you."

"What happened after that?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as she imagined it did.

"I did a Danny Messer on him."

Sam looked over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow.

"I head butted him."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. Which in turn made a small smile spread across Flack's face.

He pulled her closer to him and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"And then?" she asked, gently coaxing yet respecting the fact he may just stop and not want to continue.

"That pisses him off and he nails me in the forehead with the end of the gun. That just made me even angrier and I clocked him with my cast to get him off of me. He landed on his stomach and I got up and I found my service weapon on the ground….and then I killed him. I shot him in the back of the head."

Sam just nodded.

"That's why I need a department lawyer. IAB is going to cause all kinds of shit when the guys that saw it start talking. There goes the promotion, huh? Probably my badge, too."

"You don't know that, Donnie. When you tell them you're side of the story, I'm sure they'll realize you did the right thing."

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

"I think you reacted to a dire situation."

"But do you think it was the right way to handle it?"

"I support you no matter what. You know that."

"That's not what I asked, Samantha. Do you think I did the right thing?"

She let go of his hand and rolled onto her other side, snuggling in close to him, their chests touching. "I think you did what was necessary at the time." she replied.

"You're so damn diplomatic sometimes." he said and kissed her.

"And this other detective? The one that died? Do I know him?"

"You've met him a couple times I think. He didn't work too many crime scenes with you but I think you met him when you came downstairs for a visit. Brendan Doyle. Really tall, skinny kid with shocking red hair and big ears."

"The one with the high school sweetheart wife and three week old baby?"

Flack nodded.

Sam sighed and closed her eyes once more. She couldn't bear the thought of getting that phone call and the tremendous grief and sorrow that would follow. And she couldn't help but think that she had been very close to being a recipient of identical news.

"He got it in the neck. When all the craziness died down I went over and he was still alive. And I tried. I did, Sam. I tried to stop the bleeding but I couldn't."

"Did he say anything to you?"

Flack shook his head. "He couldn't. There was too much damage and blood and I….I tried….I really did…"

"It wasn't your fault." Sam told him yet again. "You couldn't have done anything to help him if it was that bad. And you were hurt yourself. Don't blame yourself, Donnie."

"Ten minutes before we went in, I was standing in his exact spot. The team leader told me to get to the back of the group 'cause he wanted the big guys at the back. I mean, Doyle was tall but a stiff breeze could blow him over. And I think, if I had have been standing there still…."

Sam reached between them to gently wipe tears from his cheeks. "Don't think like that." she said. "I don't want to hear you think like that or say things like that."

"It's just that…."

"Look at me." she demanded. A harsh almost angry tone to her voice,

He raised his eyes to meet hers.

"If you ever think something like that again, I will smack the shit out of you. You don't have the right to feel guilty because God interfered and spared you in favor of someone else. It was not your fault that Brendan Doyle died today. As sad as it is and as bad as I feel for his wife and their new baby, I can't help but be relieved because it wasn't you. And instead of feeling guilty and how it should have been you, you should be damn well relieved that it wasn't you. Because you got another chance to have a life with me and our baby. Someone was watching your ass and you should be thanking them instead of questioning them."

* * *

He smiled and laid his hand on the back of her head and pulled her in close for a long, soft and sweet kiss. Her lips were warm and delicate and tasted so good. The feel of them intoxicating, reminding him that he had made out alive. He was still living and breathing and had indeed got a second chance. He had stared death in the eye twice now and managed to make it through to the other side. The smell of her and the taste of her and the emotions she stirred up in him serving as a reminder that he was human and deserved to be happy and loved. And right there in then he vowed to never take this woman who'd single-handedly transformed his life into something worthwhile for granted. That each and every day he'd show her and tell her that he loved her as if tomorrow was never going to come.

And above all, he needed to feel good. About himself. And she knew every trick in the book to make him feel damn good. And he needed her to make him feel alive and loved and wanted.

She moaned into his mouth when his tongue grazed against hers before meeting it with a fury and a passion he had promised himself he wouldn't feel less than twenty minutes ago. Flack felt so fucking embarrassed and ashamed. That a good man had died with his head in his lap just hours ago and now here he was in the middle of the rumpled bed with his pregnant wife and a raging hard on. And the pleasure far outweighed the guilt at that point in time.

"Donnie….." she breathed, her fingers pushing through his hair as his lips trailed across her cheek and onto her ear and then down onto her smooth slender neck.

His hand slipped from her hair and found her ass. Squeezing it and drawing her lower body tighter against his so she could feel his erection against her. It felt so wrong. To be ready and willing to do something like that while one of his guys was lying in the morgue. But how could anything that felt so good be so wrong?

"I love you." he said, gently rolling her onto her back, his lips feasting on the hallow of her throat as his hand reached under her top to find the button and zipper on her pants. "I love you and I want you and I need you. And I need you to love and want me."

"I do." she assured him. "Always."

He smiled against her neck and popped the button and yanked down the zipper and then pulled her pants off smoothly and effortlessly. Sliding down the bed and slipping them over her ankles and completely off. He tossed them onto the floor and kissed his way from the tops of her toes to her navel. His hand drifting over the swell of her stomach as his lips and tongue teased her navel ring.

"Gotta get rid of that soon." he told her, flattening his tongue over the area before blowing on it.

She whimpered at the sensation and arched off the bed. "Hurry….okay? Let's not waste time…."

He used the tip of his tongue to trail a path from her navel all the her lips. Pushing her shirt up as he went, his hands fondling her breasts through the lacy fabric of her bra. His thumbs brushing against her hard, prominent nipples.

"Tell me something." he said, propping himself on his forearm, injured hand and all. "A bra but no underwear?"

"Thought you liked easier access to things." she said and brought her head up to kiss him. "And how do you end up being the one with the pants on still?"

"'Cause I'm in charge."

"Really?" she ran her hand from his shoulder, down onto his chest and all the way to the button of his jeans. "Take the damn pants off, Flack." she ordered.

"Turns me on when you get all aggressive and bossy on me." he told her, and did as he was told. He leaned over the bed and pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand to retrieve a condom from the box inside. "This has got to stop." he said, tearing the package open. "This just does not seem right. Condoms to have sex with your pregnant wife?"

"Thank the damn tweaker who bit you for that. And in a couple weeks you can get the PCR test done and there will be no more guessing." Sam told him.

"Can't come soon enough." he said and bent to press a kiss to the side of her neck. His fingertips drifting over her knee and along the inside of her silky thigh, gently parting her legs as his hand slipped higher.

Her fingers were in his hair, her lips on his ear as he rolled onto his side bringing her with him and. Taking her leg, he draped it over his hip and prepared to enter her. He stopped just as the tip of his cock brushed against her hot, wet opening.

"What's wrong?" she asked , as he drew back to look at her.

"This doesn't seem right. That we should be doing this. That I should be enjoying something like this after what happened today. It seems….I don't know…..disrespectful."

"You made it out alive." she reasoned. "And you're a human being and you deserve to feel good. No one is going to hold that against you."

"Last thing I want this to be is some sympathy fuck." he said in all seriousness.

"It's not. It's because we love each other and I want to make you feel better. What is so wrong about that? You're not a bad person because you want this."

"I just want the pain to go away." he told her. "Even just for a little bit."

It was her turn to kiss him. She buried her fingers in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as she reached between them to softly stroke his erection before guiding it back towards her entrance. Her tongue traced the outline of his ear and her teeth bit down gently on the lobe.

He entered her smoothly. Heard and felt her moan into his mouth as he filled her completely. Her warm, welcoming body closing around him and hugging him tight and providing him with a sense of security. Of something familiar and loving and beautiful. His fingers combed through her hair and his hand slipped down her back and around to her hip. Holding her tightly to him as he moved in and out of her at a firm, controlled pace. His eyes closed. Blocking out everything aside for her pants and sighs and moans and then her cries and gasps when he moved harder and faster.

It was over quickly. The pent up emotion and stress from the day getting the better of both of them. She came with a long, loud cry, her body stiffening against him as she clung to his shoulder. The contracting of her muscles and the sounds she was making sending him over the edge as well. His fingers digging hard into the soft flesh of her hip as he came forcefully, biting down on his bottom lip to reign in his cries.

Hot tears of ecstasy and relief and sorrow poured down his face as he buried his face in her hair and held her as tight as he could.

"It's okay." she whispered. "You made it, Donnie. You're going to be fine now."

He sniffled loudly and held her and his unborn child in his arms. Feeling neither ashamed or embarrassed by his outward display of emotion. With Sam it was okay to just let go and be himself. He didn't have to be big and tough and mean. He could be a lost little boy. Weak. And she didn't judge him because of it. She simply just accepted it and attempted to make it all go away.

She stroked his hair and pulled away from him to gently kiss away his tears. She embraced him and whispered soothing words of love and support in his ear. In time his crying subsided and she wiped his eyes and his cheeks with tender fingertips.

"Better?" she asked.

Flack nodded. He felt tired. Emotional and physically worn out. His eyes felt heavy. He wanted to sleep forever. To forget everything that happened that day and wake up and realize it was all a bad dream. He forced himself to gather the energy needed to pull out of her and head to the washroom to dispose of the use condom.

He turned the cold water on and splashed it on his face and neck. He looked at himself in the mirror. At the bandage covering the stitched up gash on his face. At the grey pallor of his skin and the dark, haunted look in his eyes.

He didn't even recognize himself. Tearing himself away from the mirror he went back into the bedroom. Sam had straightened out the sheets and fluffed the pillows and had pulled her pants back on. She lay on her back, her hands on her stomach, a frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing." she replied. "I was just thinking about what I'm going to look like at nine months if I already look six months. I am going to be a beached whale."

He couldn't help but laugh a little. She was so worried about getting fat and being unattractive and undesirable. When in truth, the bigger she got and the more he felt the life they had created together moving inside of her, the more sexy and desirable she became.

"You're going to be beautiful." he assured her, slipping into his boxer shorts before climbing back into bed. He yawned noisily and closed his eyes, his arm across his forehead.

"You need sleep." Sam said, moving across the bed to snuggle in close to him, her arm over his waist, chin resting on his chest.

He nodded in agreement.

"Get some rest, Donnie." she kissed him chastely and went to move away.

He caught her by the arm and pulled her back to him.

"Stay." he said simply.

She smiled and cuddled up to him once again. His hand resting on her back. No other words were spoken. Within minutes she heard his breathing become slow and shallow and she knew that he was asleep.

And at peace for a little while.

* * *

Sam's eyes snapped open at the sound of the phone ringing in the next room. She had turned the ringer off on the phone in the bedroom, but the one in the living room was up loud enough for her to hear it. She picked up the cordless resting on the nightstand and checked the call display. The call was coming from the intercom system in their building's front lobby.

She pressed talk. "Hello?" she asked, her voice quiet so as not to disturb Flack, who sometimes in the course of sleep, had rolled over onto his side, his back towards her.

"Sam!" a familiar voice called. "It's Carmen! Can I come up?"

"Sure." she said and pressed nine to buzz Carmen in. She climbed off the bed and tidied her hair and threw on some cleaner clothes before hurrying from the room and closing the door behind her.

She caught sight of the clock in the kitchen as she waited for Carmen's knock. It was almost six thirty. She'd been asleep for almost two hours and felt as if she could sleep twenty. She heard the elevator open and the click of heels on the tiled floor and pulled the door open just as Carmen raised her hand to knock.

"Everything okay?" Carmen asked as she stepped into the small foyer and stepped out of her shoes.

"Don's sleeping. I'm trying to be good and not wake him."

"How's he doing?"

Sam shrugged. "Twelve stitches above his eye and a slight concussion and bruised ribs from the perp sitting on his chest."

"And mentally?" Carmen knew those were the worst injuries of all.

"He's torn up over loosing one of his guy's. And the fact that he had a gun held to his head and the trigger pulled."

Carmen saw, and heard, the way her best friend was struggling to hold in the overwhelming emotions surrounding what had gone down that day. And the thought that she had come painfully close to losing the man she loved more than anything in the world.

"And how are you?" she asked, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I don't know. I think I'm still in shock over the whole thing. When he told me that the guy had held the gun to his head and…" she struggled to keep herself composed. "When he told me that, Carmen, I felt so sick. Because everything was almost taken away from me just like that. And I couldn't have dealt with that. Being pregnant with his child and his dying before he even gets to see it. I just couldn't have coped with losing him."

"But you didn't. You didn't lose him. Someone was watching out for him and he came home to you. And that's what you need to think about."

"I know. And I'm so grateful. And I feel so bad about that other cop's wife and their little baby and I think about what I would have done if someone came to the lab and told me it was Don. And I feel so guilty for thinking thank God it wasn't me. It's a horrible way to feel when someone has lost their husband."

"No, Sam. It's human. And you should be relieved and happy. Shit, it could have easily gone the other way. But it didn't. And he's here and you guys are going to get married and raise that baby together and grow old together and all that other stuff that comes with being happy and in love."

"But one day we might not be that lucky. One day I might get that phone call and I don't think I could handle that. If something happened to him," tears spilled down her cheeks. "I couldn't go on, Carmen. I'd die without him."

"No, you wouldn't." Carmen drew her best friend into her arms. "That's not the Sam Ross I know and love talking. The Sam Ross I know is strong and independent and is more than capable of taking care of herself. You'd hurt for a hell of a long time and you'd miss him and love him forever and you're heart would break every time you looked at your baby or someone says Don's name, but you would go on. And he'd want you to go on. Do you honestly think he'd expect you to fall over and die if something happened to him?"

"Of course not. We've had this talk. About how if anything ever happened to him he'd want me to go on with my life and take care of the kid. Or kids. That I'm a strong person and I could do it. That he has faith in me that I'd be okay without him."

"See? You wouldn't want to let him down would you?"

"It's just not that easy. To just go on like he never existed."

"Sam, you'd have reminders that he did exist everyday. And you know what? We shouldn't even be talking about this. Because he's safe and he's alive and he's here with you and that baby. And it's a terrible thing about that other cop, but you have every right to be happy it wasn't your man. Okay?"

Sam nodded and drew away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "What's in there?" she asked, nodding to the plastic grocery bag.

"Ice cream. Strawberries and cream to be exact. Sugar free just for you. Flack will kill me if I load you up on sugar."

"I made some pasta for dinner. There's lots left if you're hungry."

"Sounds good." Carmen said, and they headed into the kitchen together. She spooned out a bowl of ice cream for her friend while Sam prepared a plate of food. "You guys are pretty bare in here." she commented, as she opened the cupboard above the sink to grab a drinking glass.

"Everything's been either packed or tossed out. Don threw out a lot of stuff we're not going to need. Stuff he hasn't even used and nearly forgot he owned. We'll buy new stuff when the money from Zack comes in. We're going to go on a huge ass shopping spree. New bedroom furniture, everything we want for the baby, and anything else we can think of."

"I stopped by the apartment today before all hell broke loose at work." Carmen said as they sat at the table.

"The super called me about confirming the service elevator. And Danny and Adam and Hawkes all said they'll be at your old place at eight am sharp. Don said he'd help, but I don't know what good he's going to be with one hand. Mind you, he's excelling in some things."

Carmen grinned. "I bet he is….is that all you two do?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked innocently.

"Give me a break. I've known you long enough to know the look you get on your face when you and Flack have gotten busy. And you've got that look right now."

Sam smiled and spooned some ice cream into her mouth. "Comfort sex." she said. "And it was damn good."

"Living with you two is going to be sheer hell. Listening to all the noises you two make."

"We're not that bad." Sam laughed.

"Please. It's like listening to a porno."

"Like you and Tim don't make noise? Right."

"We're a little more discreet about it than you and Flack are apparently. You two just have no shame."

"We enjoy ourselves." Sam reasoned. "Nothing wrong with that. And for the record, I just want to state that every noise I make is genuine and I don't fake. Ever."

"Flack is more talented than I ever gave him credit for." Carmen laughed. "So I stopped by the apartment and its all painted and spic and span clean and the box for the crib is in the master bedroom."

"Why's it in your bedroom?" Sam asked.

"I decided to take the small room. All my furniture will fit and I'm not going to be there as long as we expected so I don't need the big room. You and Flack will be there for God knows how long and it doesn't make much sense to have your stuff put in the small one and then moved to the big one in a few months time. You know, you're going to have to make a detailed list of stuff you want for the baby so people can start preparing for your shower."

"I don't need a shower. I can afford my own stuff."

"Everyone needs and deserves a baby shower. And my godson or goddaughter is going to damn well have the best one ever. And I'm planning a guys and girls thing. Although I'm not sure how big that will go over with our men. I just can't see Tim or Flack at a baby shower."

"If there's beer and a television close by to watch sports on, Don will be happy. Give him food and he'll be in heaven."

"Has he mentioned anything about IAB or department lawyers, Sam?" Carmen asked curiously.

"Sinclair left a message earlier. About having a lawyer lined up for Don to talk to before IAB gets a hold of him." she replied with a shrug. "He hasn't mentioned anything himself."

"But you know what happened, right? That he shot the perp that attacked him?"

Sam nodded. "Have you heard anything?"

"All I heard is that IAB is already sniffing around and that Flack's guys all said the same thing. They didn't see anything. And everyone from DHS and ATF are backing them. They all say they saw the perp attack him and hold a gun to his head. But that they never saw Flack purposefully shoot the guy in the back of the head because they were too focused on what they were doing."

"He still shot him in the back of the head, Carmen. There's no denying that. And IAB will jump all over him and say if he was in the position to make an arrest he should have made it."

"Not if he shows them his injuries and says he was legitimately afraid for his life." Carmen told her. "He had reason to believe that if that perp got up and got the chance, that that guy would kill him quicker than look at him. So he put the guy out of commission before that could happen. And he can play the whole pregnant wife at home card for extra sympathy."

"Don's not like that." Sam said, getting up from the table to get some more ice cream. "He'll tell them what he feels and how he felt at that time. But he's not going to go in there trying to soften them up with some sob story about thinking he wasn't going to come home to me and his unborn baby. That's not his style."

"But it's the truth." Carmen pointed out. "I bet all he thought about that entire time was you and the baby. And how the hell he was going to get himself out of such a God awful shitty mess. And regardless of what IAB says, I would have done the same damn thing and I'm going to tell them that too if they dare come around the lab asking us about Flack's professional conduct and bullshit like that."

Sam frowned. She'd never considered the possibility of IAB poking around up in the crime lab in an attempt to score dirt on someone. "Do you think they'd actually do that?" she asked Carmen, rejoining her at the table.

"IAB are a bunch of bastards." Carmen declared. "And apparently, the guy who was sniffing around today is some old buddy of Flack Sr."

"Well that's just fucking wonderful." Sam snorted and dug into her ice cream.

"That's a heads up from Mac. In case the mean old buzzard calls here to make his son feel even worse. And just when you think things couldn't go from bad to odd and surreal…."

"We live odd and surreal, Carmen." Sam pointed out. "Nothing could possibly surprise me."

"Evan Lucerno showed up at the lab again today." Carmen announced.

Sam sighed and shook her head. "Goddamn Erica." she mumbled.

"I guess he ran into Danny and recognized him. Hey, aren't you Louie Messer's kid brother and so on and so forth."

"What did Danny say?"

"Told Evan to, and I quote, stop coming around looking for Sam unless you want a two hundred and ten pound, six foot two homicide detective opening a can of whup ass on you."

Sam laughed. "Danny has a way with words."

"Now whether or not it will actually stop things, only time will tell. But….."

* * *

A loud knock came to the apartment door and both women glanced in it's direction.

"Are you expecting someone?" Carmen asked.

Sam shook her head. "Wouldn't it be a bastard if that was Evan showing up at my door?"

"He better damn well hope not." Carmen huffed and wiped her mouth on a napkin before pushing away from the table and standing up.

Sam got up as well and followed her fearless, feisty best friend to the door.

"Look," Carmen spoke loudly so the person in the hallway could hear her as she unlocked the door. "I think you need to learn a lesson in tact and not harass pregnant, married women."

The door was pulled open and Sam and Carmen found themselves face to face with Max and Daria.

What the fuck? Carmen thought. Of all people on all of the nights.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Sam!" Daria cried and burst through the doorway, hurtling herself at her self-proclaimed auntie.

"Not a good time, Maxwell." Carmen informed her. Feeling the urge to play bouncer and bodyguard. Behind her Sam was showering the little girl with kisses and affection and trying in vain to hush her at the same time. Daria was shrieking and bellowing excitedly. The noise nearly deafening.

Max ignored Carmen and pushed past her into the apartment.

"You missed our lunch date today." Max told Sam a matter of factly.

Carmen immediately went momma bear defensive. "I guess she thought the fact that her husband had a gun held to his head and the trigger pulled outweighed her desire to spend an hour with you."

"Don't get nasty, Devine." Max said, giving the auburn haired CSI a once over and a look that meant she was neither impressed or intimidated.

"Where's Uncle Blue, Sam!?" Daria inquired happily. "Maybe he can play some video games with me?"

"He's sleeping." Sam replied. "He's not feeling well and he needs his sleep."

"Is he sick?"

"A little." Sam told her.

"Can I go and see him?"

"Reign in your kid, Max." Carmen said. "Flack's not in the mood for company."

"I thought maybe Daria and I could come over and keep Sam company. Order take out."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's why you're here." Carmen snorted. "One foot in the door, huh, Max? Just waiting and hoping that Flack and Sam will fuck things up so you can walk right in and sink your fangs into him?"

"You have no clue what you're talking about."

"I know all about women like you." Carmen hissed. "And protecting Sam and that baby is my number one priority. And I swear to God, if you do anything to come between Sam and Flack, I will bury you."

"I was hoping we could all be friends." Max said.

Carmen fought back the urge to laugh. "Get over this whole desire to be Miss Popular. This isn't high school. And not everyone can like you. No one is universally loved. I'm just not afraid to tell someone how I really feel. So do me a favor. Flack is trying to rest and you and your kid need to leave. It's been a long day and he doesn't need the headache. Okay?"

"So why are you here then? Who invited you?" Max challenged.

"I'm actually welcome here. Stop holding onto something that isn't there. Something that was never there to be exact."

Down the hall the bedroom door clicked open. Daria was off in running the moment she heard the footsteps coming towards them. Screaming Uncle Blue a pitch and volume that could burst ear drums.

Carmen stepped away from Max and went to Flack, who was attempting to make nice by teasing and tickling Daria, but who, by the look on his face, was not impressed by all of the unexpected visitors.

"How are you?" Carmen asked, and hugged him.

"Okay." Flack replied and returned the embrace warmly.

She smiled and laid a hand on the side of his face. No words were needed. Apologies were passed between them by the simple understanding in their eyes.

"I know." she said and kissed his cheek. "The important thing is that you're okay. Don't ever scare the crap like that out of us again."

"I won't." he promised with a slight chuckle. He glanced over as Max stepped up beside him and moved away as she attempted to hug him.

"Will you play video games with me, Uncle Blue?" Daria asked, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Sure." he replied, giving a brave, warm smile. "You pick the game."

Daria skipped happily over to the Xbox and the entire shelf of games.

"You're okay, partner?" Max asked, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I'm fine. I just wish everyone would stop asking me that. Stop asking and just let me deal with it already."

Max blinked at the harshness in his tone.

Flack ignored the hurt look the woman gave him and turned his attention to the little girl waiting impatiently for him on the couch. Daria chatted excitedly about the day's events at pre-school while he plugged in the controllers and set everything up. Teasing her in that easy, natural way he seemed to have with kids.

"He's a great father." Max commented.

Carmen's head snapped towards the other woman. "What did you just say? I think you meant he's going to be a great father. To the baby that him and Sam are having. His biological child. 'Cause your kid is not his. She's never going to be his and you need to realize that. What the hell is wrong with you? You and this hang up with him being this stand in daddy. It's fucking nauseating."

"Carmen." Sam said, shaking her head. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. How anyone thinks that this is okay is beyond me. If you think this is okay, either one of you, than your both just as screwed up as she is."

"Take it easy, Carmen." Flack said. "It's no big deal."

It was Sam's turn to snap. She had had enough of the noise and the agony of the entire day and of being expected to be friends with someone that seemed hell bent on simply walking in and taking over.

"No big deal!" she practically screamed. "It's a fucking huge deal to me! She expects you to play daddy to her bastard child while I just stand here, pregnant with your real kid and you say it's no big deal! It's a big deal, Don! Is this how it's going to be when your own child gets here? Running off to solve Max's problems and take her kid places? What are you going to start forking over money too when she needs it?"

"Samantha, calm down…." he was on his feet and heading to comfort her. He laid a hand on her shoulder. Her entire body was trembling. "I know you're pissed and your nerves are shot from today, but getting like this is only going to hurt you and the baby."

"What do you care?" she backed away from him. "You've got another woman and kid to just take our places."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Flack asked, reaching for her.

"Don't fucking touch me. Just leave me alone." she turned and headed into the kitchen and grabbed her cell phone and keys from the top of the fridge. Hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she went to the closet and yanked her coat and her purse off of a hanger.

"Where are you going?" Flack stood with his hand on the door to prevent her from opening it.

"Get out of my way."

"What is this going to solve? You taking off? Running away from things like you always do."

"I need to get out of here. I need some space. Please. Just give me some time and some space."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Somewhere. Just….Donnie, if you love me like you say you do, you'll back off and let me go."

He sighed and stepped back from the door.

She yanked the door open and hurried out into the hall.

"Will you at least let me know you're okay?" he asked, watching helplessly as she rushed down the hall.

No answer. She pressed the button for the elevator.

"Samantha…at least call me and let me know where you are."

"I want this mess cleaned up before I come back. I mean it. This bullshit with Max. I want it done."

"That's fine." he agreed. "Just call me. Please."

The elevator arrived and she stepped inside. "I'll think about it." she called and hit the close button.

* * *

She could hear the faint volume of a television through the heavy wood door. She hoped and prayed that he was alone. She needed peace and solace and someone to listen to her and understand. A shoulder to cry on if she required it. She listened for any voices not coming from the t.v. and then raised her hand. Rapping noisily on the door with her knuckles.

"Hang on!" the familiar voice called out. "I'm comin'! Keep your shorts on!"

She heard the dull click on the dead bolt and the scraping of the chain as it was pulled across. The door was yanked open. He blinked in surprised at the woman before him. He looked slightly dishevelled. As if he'd been in the middle of a nap.

"Are you alone?" Sam asked.

"I am." came the reply.

"I really need someone right now." she said.

He smiled and stepped back and held open the door.

"That's what I'm here for." he told her with a gentle, warm smile.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his scruffy cheek softly.

He returned the simple act of affection and then closed the door behind them.

**Now, I am sure this ending will leave a few of you wondering just what the hell is going on. It was my evil muse's work. She made me do it. So you will just have to wait patiently to see just who it was behind door number one.**

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Keep it up. I love to get mail!! And to everyone who is lurking and adding me to alerts, thanks for the support! I hope you all keep enjoying.**

**Plugs:**

**Aphina: The Tale of Two Girls (it features Sam and Carmen. How wrong could you go? It's a great story), Devine Intervention (Sam and Hawkes. What more can I say? LOL) and Finding Kate over in Miami land.**


	81. Heavy Decisions

**Heavy decisions**

"We suffer everyday, what is it for  
These crimes of illusion, are fooling us all  
And now I am weary and I feel like I do  
It's only you, who can tell me apart  
And it's only you, who can turn my wooden heart  
The size of our fight, it's just a dream  
We've crushed everything I can see, in this morning selfishly  
How we've failed and I feel like I do  
It's only you, who can tell me apart  
And it's only you, who can turn my wooden heart  
Now that we've chosen to take all we can  
This shade of autumn, a stale bitter end  
Years of frustration lay down side by side  
It's only you, who can tell me apart  
And it's only you, who can turn my wooden heart."

-Only You, Portishead

* * *

Flack paced the living room. A hand shoved in his hair. His head was throbbing. Both from the concussion and from an overwhelming, almost blinding tension headache. His chest ached from his bruised ribs and anxiety pains that brought back too many memories of recuperating from the bombing. Nights when he'd wake up in a cold sweat, panicking and groping for his heart that felt as if it was exposed to the world and going to explode.

The only sound in the room was Daria's crying as she clung to her mother's legs. Seeing her Auntie Sam as angry as she was and hearing all the yelling and carrying on had terrified her. As much as Flack cared for the kid, the wailing was driving him nuts and only making the agony in his head even worse. And was a hair away from tossing them both out the door so he could get some peace and quiet. A chance to sort things out. Get a grip on what had just happened. How Sam had just erupted and the things she had said.

He paced because he didn't know what else to do. He was tempted to get an unopened bottle of JD from the cupboard over the fridge and crack it open and guzzle it until there was no more. But he had promised, both to himself and Samantha, that he wasn't going to turn to alcohol to cope. He wasn't going to turn it into a full blown dependency. What he needed to do was fix the mess in his life and get his shit together.

"You just let her go?" Carmen asked in disbelief as she sat perched on the arm of the sofa.

"What was I going to do?" Flack inquired in response. "Drag her back in here kicking and screaming? Hold her down and force her to be here? She needs some space and I'm giving her that."

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know, Carm. She didn't tell me. And I don't think she even knows where she's going. How many places can she go? We know all the same people. I'll give her a while to calm down and then I'll call around and find out where she is and go and get her."

"Why don't you cut your loses Flack." Max told him, scooping a sobbing Daria up into her arms. "Let her go and stay gone."

Flack nearly pulled hair right out of his head that comment angered him so bad. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carmen open her mouth to lash out, but he raised his hand to silence her. "Just shut the hell up, Max." he seethed. "Do me a favour and keep quiet."

"Someone needs to get through to you." Max continued. "Am I the only one with enough guts to speak the truth around here?"

"You speak a lot of shit is what you do." Carmen snapped. "What are you even here? To check on Flack because he's your partner? Give me a break. To make friends with Sam? What a load of crap. To torment Sam is more like it."

"I came here out of genuine concern for both of them." Max informed the auburn haired CSI.

Carmen smirked and nodded slowly. "Sure you did."

"Look, it's not like I came here to cause problems. I heard about what happened and wanted to make sure they were doing okay. It's not my fault that Sam is insecure in her relationship and with herself."

"You're trying to walk in her family!" Carmen argued. "You have this hang up wanting to make Flack Daria's father. Well he's not and he's never going to be and Sam is his wife and she's having his baby. His biological baby. And if you think he's going to love your daughter as much as his own child and have Daria over her for sleepovers and play dates than you're fucking crazier than I thought!"

"First off, she's not his wife." Max corrected.

Carmen laughed and shook her head. "You're hopeless, utterly fucking hopeless."

"Second, watch your mouth around my daughter."

"You best be watching your mouth." Carmen fumed. "Because I'm about to knock it clear off your face. Sam is as close to his wife as she can get without the legal documents. And that baby she's carrying has Flack's DNA too. He' s daddy to that baby. Not to your kid. Why don't you quit trying to steal Sam's family and find one of your own!"

"Third," Max said, ignoring the rant. "It's up to Don to decide what he wants. If he wants to be part of Daria's life or not."

"I'm not her father, Max." Flack told her, trying to keep his cool. Knowing that if he exploded, there'd be a lot of tears in that apartment. And he wouldn't know how to turn his anger off. "Stop talking like I am. Stop expecting me to be a father to her. I don't want to be her father. I never wanted to be her father and I am damn grateful I'm not 'cause if I was, I'd have to put up with your crap constantly. This is crazy talk. Do you even realize what you're saying? I'm not a stand in. I never will be. I care about her like an uncle would care about his niece, but I'll never love her like my own. I have my own on the way and you need to back off of me and back off of Sam and leave us alone to live our lives."

"You don't want to be a part of her life?" Max looked hurt. "She loves her Uncle Blue."

"It's not that I don't want to be part of her life. I just want it to be on my terms. I have a family, Max. I love Sam and our baby and they are first and foremost to me. And having you around and working with you…." he sighed and shook his head. "It's too much. I can't risk loosing my wife and my child for you, Max. And the first thing I'm doing after this IAB crap is cleared up, is calling Sinclair and Gerrard and asking them for a new partner."

Max blinked. "You're what?"

"I can't take the headache." Flack told her. "I can't run the risk of you coming in between me and Samantha. I love her and can't screw things up with her. And if you were mature, you'd realize it's the best thing for me and her and our baby. I mean, you may be a mother, Max, but you have a hell of a lot of growing up to do."

"And you and Sam and Devine here all just the most mature people in the world, right?" Max fumed.

"Sam and I have issues." Flack admitted. "A lot. But we're working through them and don't need your issues tossed on top of ours. And leave Carmen out of this. She's just sticking up for Sam. I think it's best for you to leave, Max."

The young woman simply nodded. Taking in all of his words. Blinking back tears. "But she gets to stay?" she nodded in Carmen's direction.

"I want her to stay." Flack said. "She's Sam's best friend. Carmen's always been there for her. And me. She's the only person it seems that doesn't bring us grief."

"At least I know who it'll be that you'll be screwing behind Sam's back when the novelty of being a husband and father wears off." Max sniped.

"At least that way he'd be getting good quality and not someone's sloppy seconds." Carmen commented, a bored expression on her face as she simply picked the clear polish off of her nails.

Flack struggled to hold back the laughter that threatened to escape him from both Carmen's snide comment and the furious look that crossed Max's face.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Don." Max said, gathering up Daria's backpack and teddy bear. "You'll wake up one day and realize you're fucking up your life."

"It's my life to fuck up, Max." he told her. "And I love my life and the way it's going. And one day, you'll grow up enough to realize that just because you're unhappy, doesn't mean you have a right to make everyone else unhappy. What's wrong with us being friends? Why do you have to try and make it more? Just accept that things aren't going to progress from where they are now."

"Tell Sam that maybe me and her can try and work out some kind of truce." Max told him, as she headed for the door. "I really would like to be her friend, Don."

"She's got more on her plate right now than worrying about all of that." Flack said. "Let us get through our problems before I dump anything else on her. Can you give her that? Some time for her and I to work on us before she has something else to think about?"

"Fine." Max huffed. "Just let her know that I do care about her and hope she and the baby are okay. I just think the way things are between the two of you….you'd both be better off friends than lovers."

"Friends with benefits." Carmen sighed. "My favorite kind of friends."

"Goodnight, Max." Flack called, and got the slamming of the door in response. He sighed and ran a hand over his weary face and over the back of his head. He glanced over at Carmen and smirked at the whole absurdity of what had just gone down.

"What the hell is wrong with that woman?" Carmen asked, returning the smirk.

Flack sighed and shrugged.

"I swear we should just kill her and find a way to dispose of her body."

"She's just lonely, Carmen. No family here, barely any friends. I don't think she means to come across as a home wrecker. I guess she's just looking for someone to love her and Daria. Some security."

"Yeah? Well as long as you're not the one giving that to her. 'Cause I will kill you if you do anything to Sam."

"Sam's my everything. You know that. If anyone is going to get hurt, it's going to be me. All the stress she brings with her is driving me insane. I just want things to be nice and calm and normal for us for a change. I mean, we deserve that, don't we?"

"Of course. And I'm proud of you for handling things the way you did with Max. For once, you were the mature, bigger person."

"For once?" Flack chuckled. "As opposed to what?"

"Obnoxious. Pig headed. Surly. Conceited. That's just to name a few." she slid off the arm of the couch and headed for the kitchen. "So what do you feel like? Tea? Coffee?"

"Tea? You're hanging around Sam way too much."

"Coffee it is." Carmen decided and disappeared into the next room.

Flack was silent for a long time. Listening to Carmen rummage through the cupboards for mugs and instant coffee and filling the kettle to boil the water. Staring out the window at the steady fall of night. Listening to the strong wind rattle the windows. Looking at his reflection and being disgusted at what he saw. For not doing the right thing sooner and putting a stop to the nonsense bullshit that seemed to be affecting his entire life.

"Sam's going to leave me, isn't she." It was more of a statement than a question. And directed more towards himself than the woman in the next room.

" If Max keeps butting in like this, then I think there's a possibility she'll do what's best for her and the baby." Carmen responded. "And if leaving you is it, then she'll do whatever it takes. I mean, come on, Flack. Max is trying to force herself and her kid on you and you seem to be letting her."

He nodded, letting the words sink in.

"Sam doesn' t need the stress or the friction it causes. It hurts her when she sees you like that with Max and Daria. It's like you already have a pre-made family and you're going to forget about her and the baby."

"Sam and the baby are my family, Carmen. My only family."

"But Sam needs to know that and you need to prove it because after what I saw here tonight I don't blame her for freaking out the way she did."

Carmen rejoined him in the living room and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. She leaned against the back of the couch beside him and sipped her own drink. "And next time she may go running to someone who will look after her and doesn't have a pre-made family and has no objections towards taking care of her or your baby. Because she's perfectly capable of finding someone else. She's not with you because she has to be. She's with you because she wants to be."

Flack sighed. "I know. Lots of guys would have her. But I'm the one that wants her the most. I love her. And my baby. I don't want to lose them."

"Well, if that's the case," Carmen pushed herself away from the couch and went around to the coffee table and picked up the cordless phone. "You better start making some calls."

"And if she doesn't want to come back?" he asked, dread in his eyes at the sheer thought.

Carmen smiled. "You go and get her and bring her back." she said.

* * *

She sat at the kitchen table. Her elbows on the table and her face in her hands as she wept openly. He stood watching her, his heart breaking at the sight and silent fury building inside of him over the thought of anyone hurting her. She was beautiful and precious and didn't deserve to be sitting in a cramped, dirty kitchen crying her eyes out a faded old formica table. He fought back his own tears and turned away, busying himself by making some tea and pouring a glass of water from the tap and opening the cupboard. He reached for the Advil and then reminded himself that for pregnant women, Tylenol was preferred. In small doses. He plucked the bottle from the very back and opened it and shook two out into his hand.

"What am I going to do?" she asked, voice muffled by her hands.

"It's going to be okay." he replied, placing the glass of water on the table and laying a hand on the back of her neck. "Here. This will take the edge off a bit."

She looked up and into the palm of his hand. She took the small red pills with a grateful smile and downed them with a gulp of water. "Thank you." she said, and leaned her head back against his chest.

"It'll all work out." he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "So take a deep breath, let it out nice and slow, and tell me what happened."

He went back to the mugs of tea seeping on the counter while she gathered herself and wiped her eyes and began to recount the events of the night. He listened quietly and intently, never interrupting or offering comments. Giving her the time and patience she needed from him to get through it. He dropped the tea bags in the garbage and dumped milk into both. Two heaping spoons of sugar into his. Then joined her at the table, sitting across from her.

"I just don't know what to do." she said, when she'd finished her tale of the things she'd said and done. "I love him. So much I can't breathe properly or think straight sometimes. But I can't let him, or her, do this to me. I have to think about myself and the baby first."

He nodded and sipped tea. For a long time there was silence between them as they each considered what had gone down and what had brought her there that night.

"Flack loves you." he said at long last. "I was wrong before when I said mean things about your guys' relationship. I was just really, really nervous for you. I didn't want you to get hurt. But I trust him and he's a stand up guy and I know he adores you and worships you."

"And Max?" she asked, sipping her tea.

"Ignore her. That's my best advice. She's obviously jealous that she doesn't have a family of her own. And probably a little pissed that Flack's moved on. But I don't think she means to hurt you. She's just doing what she thinks is best for her kid. Mind you, I find it really, horrendously misguided and I think she could handle it so much better."

Sam nodded in agreement and pulled a tissue from the box sitting alongside of her.

"But he does love you, Samantha. And you love him. And you guys are going to get married and have that baby and have a great life together. I think both of you just need to step back, think about the things you've said and done and meet somewhere in the middle and say, 'hey, we've both fucked up. Let's wash the slate clean and start over again'."

A slow smile spread across her face. "When did you become so handy at the advice? You're a regular Dear Abby or Doctor Phil."

"My girlfriend's a psychologist, remember? She's rubbing off on me."

"My little peanut is all grown up." Sam sighed. "Got himself a real woman and a real job. Yet he still can't do the dishes or remember to buy groceries or pay bills on time. You need to move in with that woman and learn from her. She'll whip you into shape."

"Actually," Adam said, running his hands along his mug. "I was thinking of approaching the subject with her."

Sam's eyes lit up at the news. "Hope it's into her apartment. This place deserves to be condemned."

"A woman of Gus' beauty and stature deserves a palace." Adam declared. "And this is the dungeon in that palace. Her place is much nicer. And bigger. Lots of room for my video games and comic books and what not."

Sam rolled her eyes. "The trash is the best place for those."

"Hey, some of those comics are rare collectors items and worth a mint. Just because you can't understand the sentimental and monetary value, don't put down my hobby. I don't say anything about your hobby. I mean, knitting? Come on. How old are you?"

"A lot of people knit. Young and old. And it's mom's fault for getting me on to it."

"When's the last time you actually knitted something worthwhile? That someone could use?"

"I sent you a sweater last Christmas." she reminded him.

Adam laughed. "The sleeves were three times too long and I couldn't get my head through the top because you made the hole too small."

Sam laughed as well. It felt as if it had been a long time since she'd last laughed. And it felt invigorating.

Adam smiled across the table at his sister. "Better now?" he asked.

She nodded. "Can I stay here tonight? I think Don and I need some time apart to think about things."

"Sure. I'll ride the couch for a night."

Sam frowned. "When's the last time you changed the sheets? I mean, I love Gussie and all, but I don't want to be sharing certain things with her."

"I changed them just this morning. All clean, I promise. I'm going to call Flack and let him know that you're okay and you're crashing here tonight. Okay?"

"Okay." she conceded. "Just tell him…..tell him I love him and I'll be home tomorrow."

"I can do that. You want to talk to him? If he asks?"

"Just tell him I've gone to bed. Which is exactly what I'm going to do. I'm exhausted."

"What? No all nighter playing the Wii and eating junk food?"

"Sorry, peanut. I'll have to take a rain check."

Adam sighed dramatically and stood up and gathered their dirty cups. "It's okay. I have to go in early tomorrow and finish off some things for Mac anyway. I think I'll play Second Life on the PC for a bit and hit the sack myself."

"That's the weirdest damn game in the world." Sam declared. "I've never understood your fascination."

"It's not a fascination dear sister. It's an obsession."

"Oh," she laughed. "My mistake."

She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. Was about to say goodnight and step around the table when a sharp, agonizing pain hit her low in the stomach and in the small of her back and doubled her over with a cry.

Adam looked over his shoulder and saw her in distress. He dropped the mugs in the sink with a clatter and hurried to her. "Sammie?!" he bent down alongside of her, a hand on her back. "Are you okay? What is it?"

She grabbed a hold of the collar of his shirt and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Is it the baby?"

She nodded.

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to call Flack?"

She shook her head.

"He's the father. He needs to know if….."

"You can call him afterwards. I need…..we need to go to the hospital, Adam. I need you to take me to the hospital."

"Want me to call an ambulance? You can't get there on your own."

"Adam, no ambulance." she spoke through gritted teeth. "Just call a cab and take me to Women's and Children's. You need to call my OB. Her number is in my cell. Call her on the way there and…." she moaned and clutched her stomach as another pain assailed her. "Just get me there, Adam. Okay?"

He nodded, terrified that something was going to happen to her or his unborn niece or nephew. Or both. He bolted across the kitchen and grabbed his wallet off the top of the fridge and snagged his keys off of a hook by the sink. He shoved his feet into his runners and hurried back to his sister. Who was deathly pale and shaking and covered head to toe in sweat. He snatched up her purse and cell phone from the table and did the first thing that came naturally to him.

He picked her up and carried her.

* * *

Flack ran every red light that crossed his path. Carmen had no idea how he managed to get them to Women's and Children's in fifteen minutes flat and avoid getting into a major accident when he was driving his own vehicle and not a squad with sirens and lights. He'd just been getting prepared to make phone calls to the other members of the team to locate Sam when Adam had called, nearly frantic, saying that he and Sam were on their way to the hospital in a cab.

Carmen hadn't thought twice about going along. She'd simply hurried out the door after him and climbed into the passenger seat of his SUV. He never questioned her presence and didn't speak throughout the entire drive. But she could see the intense worry and fear etched all over his handsome face. She'd called Speed on the way to let him know what was going on. He promised to bail on what was left of his late shift at the lab and be at the hospital as soon as he could.

The lot for emergency room patients was full. There was no time limit on the small amount of spaces and there was no chance of being ticketed or towed. Flack wasn't in the mood to scour the expansive underground complex for a spot. His luck, the only spot available would be something the farthest away from where they actually needed to be and they'd have to walk ten minutes to get to the proper elevator that would take them closest to the ER. Instead, he pulled into the first available spot he saw in the short stay lot. Ignoring the instructions to obtain a ticket first from the dozing parking attendant.

"Uh…….Flack……." Carmen attempted to point out the obvious sign as she hurried to catch up to him as he headed towards the ER entrance.

"Fuck it, Devine." came the snarky response.

"Excuse me! Sir!" the attendant, all five foot five and a hundred and twenty soaking wet, called as he raced through the lot after them. "Sir! Sir! You need to get a ticket from me first! You can't park here with it a ticket!"

"Just fucking watch me." Flack shot back, then nearly tripped over the wisp of a man when the attendant stepped in front of him to block his way. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Sign clearly states you can't park here without a ticket from the attendant. That's me. And you didn't come to me for a ticket. Tickets are for a maximum of two hours in this lot. Are you going to be longer than two hours?"

"More than bloody likely." Flack told him and went to step around the man.

The attendant shifted over two steps to block the way once again. "There's a two hour limit. There's an underground lot where you can park as long as you want. You can get a ticket from me and stay for two hours, then leave and come back into the lot for another two hours."

"Are you kidding me?" Flack snorted. "You've got to be kidding me. Get the hell out of my face."

"No ticket, no parking space."

"What are you going to do? Call security on me?"

"Could have your truck towed."

"Tow the fucking thing than. I have worse problems. Now take a hike."

"Or I could call the cops." the attendant threatened.

Carmen pulled her badge off the waist band of her pants and shoved it in the attendant's face. She normally removed the badge when she left work, but it had been one of those forgetful days. "I am the cops. And so is he." she jerked a thumb at Flack.

"Still can't park here for more than two hours." the attendant, unimpressed informed them.

"I'll be back to move the fucking truck!" Flack snapped. "Now get outta my way before I move you outta my way."

The attendant, neither frightened or put out, held his hands up in peaceful surrender and backed away and headed back to his hut.

"Moron." Flack mumbled and hurried across the narrow lane of traffic picking people up from the ER, Carmen having to practically jog to keep up.

"Flack!" Adam's voice called from the opposite direction. "Carmen!"

The lab tech was standing outside of the main doors to the hospital two hundred yards away, waving his arms over his head to get their attention.

"What the fuck, Adam!" Flack roared as he approached the dishevelled, panicked lab tech. "What the hell happened?"

Adam visibly shook. As much as he liked Flack and was glad the guy was becoming his brother in law, the homicide detective was scary as hell. He was big and burly and sarcastic and nasty as hell on the best of days. Adam had been terrified of Flack from the very first day he'd began working at the lab and he'd heard Flack have a near meltdown on a tech that misplaced some test results.

"Sam….she's….she's not in the ER….." Adam said, stumbling over the words. "The doctor, her doctor, Lightheart or whatever her name is, I called her on the way here and she arranged for Sam to get a bed upstairs right away. A private room. Just like you guys wanted for when she has the baby."

"Take it easy, Adam." Carmen laid a hand on his shoulder. "Take a breath and relax."

"They're gonna do some tests. Blood work and ultrasound and all that stuff. But they can't start until you get up there and fill out some paperwork and information. I don't know what it is but that's what they said. And Sam…..I don't know….she's not feeling well and she's having lots of pain and she's been throwing up and they gave her some meds to stop that and the contractions and……"

"Whoa……slow down." Flack said. "Contractions? She just got past the four month part. She can't be having contractions."

"It's what the nurse said." Adam told his future brother in law. "The nurse said it could be pre-term contractions and there's meds that can stop them and hold things off until the baby could stand a chance of surviving outside of the womb. I heard one of them saying that there was a baby up there once born at 24 weeks and weighing like a pound and a bit. Kid was up in NICU for the better part of eight months."

Flack took a deep breath and walked away for a moment, a hand to his forehead as he exhaled slowly.

"You're not helping." Carmen told the lab tech.

"It doesn't mean that that's going to happen to Sam." Adam said sheepishly. "I mean, these meds can stop things completely and she can still go full term. I'm just saying what I heard."

"What happened, Adam?" Flack repeated.

"Sam came to my place all upset over some crazy bullshit that happened with Max. And she calmed down and we talked and I said I was going to call you to let you know she was okay and she got up from the table and had this really, really bad pain and….." Adam paused to take a breath. "And here we are."

"How is she now?" Carmen asked.

"Scared. Very scared. She's been asking for Flack in between her puking."

"We better go in." Carmen said, rubbing both Flack and Adam's backs and leading the way to the front doors. "Both of you just calm down and try to take it easy."

"I'm sorry, Flack." Adam continued to ramble. "I should have called you as soon as she showed up."

"Yeah, you should have."

"You know what? Don't talk to me like that." Adam stopped walked and defended himself vehemently. "Samantha may be your wife in couple months and having your baby, but she's still my sister. And we're on the same team here. The same side. And that's Sam side. We both love her and she's major important to both of us. So cut the homicide cop bull crap and get your shit together. Because she doesn't need the stress or the drama and she's had a hell of a fucking day. Okay?"

Flack and Carmen both blinked.

"I mean, shit, she's important to me too." Adam said, and tears welled in his eyes.

Flack stepped forward and laid a large, comforting hand on the back of Adam's neck and looked his future brother in law dead in the eye.

"You're going to break me in half aren't you." Adam said. "You want to put me through a wall."

Flack shook his head.

"I want you to take me in to see your sister." he said. "Can you do that?"

Adam nodded and sniffled noisily and wiped his misty eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

Flack put his arm across the younger man's shoulders. "Lead the way, Ross." he said.

* * *

The fourth floor was relatively quiet. Adam led them to the labour and delivery ward where women in various stages of labour walked the floors with their nervous and scared looking partners. Down the hall to the left, the muffled crying of newborns in the nursery could be heard. Further down were the NICU and Level II step down units. Outside of the massive double doors that led into the birthing areas, anxious family members lounged in chairs and attempted conversation and tried being interested in a t.v. mounted on the wall that was playing CNN.

Adam slammed his palm down on an automatic button on the wall to his left and the doors before them opened slowly. He motioned for them to follow him to a central nurses station located in the middle of the massive room. The station was surrounded on either side by glass walled waiting and active labour areas. Curtains drawn across most for privacy.

There were several nurses buzzing about the station. Checking over charts and signing off on medications and patients vitals and answering phone calls from curious relatives of women in labour.

Adam stepped up to the desk. Shifting nervously from foot to foot, drumming his fingers on the counter top and looking extremely worried and uncomfortable with the situation he was in.

"This dad?" one of the nurses - a short, chubby middle aged woman with short, spiky black hair and black framed glass, wearing a baby blue scrub set- asked as she saw Adam and Flack side by side before her.

Adam nodded.

The nurse slapped a pen and a clipboard down in front of Flack. "These need to be filled out ASAP. Doctor won't start any of the tests without your consent. And we need insurance information."

"And what about my wife?" Flack asked. Understanding why the forms needed to be signed, but not understanding why he couldn't give verbal consent, go in and see Sam and check how she was doing, and then sign. He didn't like the idea of her being in a hospital room, scared and alone.

"You can see her after you've finished filling those out and signing them. You're all relatives?"

"This is our sister, Carmen." Adam explained. "She's the labour and delivery coach."

"You both can go down." the nurse told them. "But when dad comes, the doctor will want to talk to him and you'll both have to leave the room."

"We're not stupid." Carmen informed the offhanded woman. "We know that."

"Just informing you of the rules, miss."

"Well thank you." Carmen offered a phony, sugary sweet smile before turning to Flack and laying a hand on his back. "I'll let her know that you're here, okay?"

He nodded and watched as Carmen and Adam headed down the hall. Talking quietly, Carmen rubbing the lab tech's shoulder comfortingly.

"Hope the other guy looks worse." the nurse commented.

"What?" Flack asked, then remembered the bandage covering his stitches and the cast on his hand. "Yeah," he laughed lightly. "He does. He's down at the Medical Examiners Office waiting for his autopsy."

She stared at him.

"I'm a cop." Flack explained. "We had a raid today and….never mind. It's a long story. But yes, he does look worse than me. A lot worse."

"Good to hear." she said with a light chuckle.

"Can you at least tell me how my wife is?" Flack asked, turning his attention to the task at hand.

"She's stable for now."

"For now? What does that mean?"

"We're monitoring her condition. She's stable for the time being."

Flack frowned. "What about the baby?" he asked.

"We're keeping an eye on the baby as well. They are both stable."

"But the baby is okay, right?" he inquired anxiously. "There still is a baby. Right?"

"Mom and baby are doing as well as we are expecting them to." the nurse replied vaguely.

What the fuck does that mean?! Flack wanted to scream. He wanted straight answers. He was used to having straight, honest to God answers from people when he was on the job and expected them in his personal life as well. He hated people skirting around issues and talking a bunch of bullshit.

"I just want you to tell me the way things are." Flack told the nurse in all seriousness.

She looked up. The tone of his voice letting her know he meant business. And she found herself staring into intense blue eyes.

"Are my wife and my baby going to be okay?" Flack asked.

"We don't know." the nurse replied honestly.

"Both or just one?"

"We honestly don't know."

Flack sighed heavily and nodded slowly. Tears burned his eyes. He could barely see the paper in front of him.

"I'm very sorry." the nurse told him, and reaching up, laid a hand over his. "We'll do the best we can for both of them. We're monitoring them both very closely. And I can tell you that baby seems to be strong and healthy. Mom's health…..not so good."

"Is it the pre-eclampsia and the diabetes or something worse than all that?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"We're keeping an eye on both of those issues and we'll be doing some more tests to rule other things out. There's nothing more I can really tell you. I'm not your wife's nurse. When she comes back from checking your wife, you'll be able to talk to her."

"I just want to know if she's going to get out of here alive. That's all I want to know."

"I doubt we're looking at anything life threatening. But she needs care and we need to find out exactly what's wrong and believe me, she's in the best possible hospital for that."

"And what are all these papers for?" Flack nodded down at the clipboard. "What am I actually signing for?"

"Consent for testing, insurance information, permission to perform a dilation and curettage if it's medically needed."

He paused in his signing. "What is that?" he asked. "That last thing you mentioned."

"A procedure where we open the cervix and surgically remove the contents of the uterus."

"And why the hell would I give consent to do that?"

"In case of a miscarriage or if the doctor feels further carrying the pregnancy is too much of a risk for the mother's health."

Jesus Christ, he thought, struggling to process the information being tossed at him. If this isn't the day from hell, I don't know what is.

"If that's done can she still have more kids?" he asked.

"If she's capable of successfully carrying to term, there would be no reason why she couldn't get pregnant again."

He sighed, ran a hand over his weary face and stepped away from the desk momentarily to gather himself and contemplate the options. If it was too dangerous for her to carry the baby to term, he didn't want to take the risk of loosing both her and the baby. And if she could still get pregnant, then the procedure wasn't a horrible option. He just hoped it would never come done to something so drastic.

* * *

Flack returned to the desk and scrawled his signature to the bottom of the paper.

"I know it's a difficult decision to make." the nurse said sympathetically, taking the clipboard back from him. "Normally, if the patient is competent enough to make their own decisions, they sign the papers themselves. But your wife made it very clear when she came in that you would handle all the decisions regarding her care. Are you legally married?"

"Does that matter?" he asked irritably.

"I just noticed the differences in the last name. In most cases, we would leave medical decisions to next of kin within the family. Which would be her brother."

"Yeah? Well I can have her employee file brought over here that shows she made me her next of kin in case something happens to her. Now can I go and see my wife? Am I done here?"

The nurse nodded. Then looked towards the end of the desk as one of her colleagues slipped behind the work station. A tall and willowy blond with a gentle smile and graceful features.

"Gayle?" she called over. "Samantha Ross' husband is here."

The blond came around the desk and walked over to Flack with her hand outstretched. A calm, reassuring smile on her face.

"I'm Gayle Fellows." she said in a soft, melodic voice. "I'll be looking after your wife Mr Ross."

He shook her hand. "It's Flack actually. Samantha and I….we're not actually married. I mean, we're almost there. Couple more months."

Gayle reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, sensing the nervousness and fright in his voice and seeing it in his eyes.

"She's doing very well." she told him. "She was having some cramping and some light spotting that we contributed to pre-term contractions. We've given her some medication in an IV drip and both the pain and the bleeding have stopped. She's hooked up to a fetal monitor to assess the baby's heart rate, which is strong and normal."

"What about her blood pressure and all that?"

"Her pressure is shockingly high and we have her on meds to bring it down. Her sugar level is also high and that's been making her nauseous and had the doctor worried about seizures considering she's had an experience with them before. You've signed all the consent papers?"

Flack nodded.

"Now that we have them, we'll run a standard ultrasound to check for fetal movement and to see if there's any problems we can spot, uterine wise, that could have caused the contractions. If we don't get results we want, we'll do a more intensive 4D ultrasound. I read in her chart that you had one planned already for some time in October? To check for fetal abnormalities?"

"She had some blood work come back that suggested that there could be a problem. She had her blood taken again today. Do you think that that's why this happened because there's something wrong with the baby?"

"I doubt one has anything to do with the other. This seems to be a problem with the mother. The ultrasounds should tell us more. And they should also be able to check for abnormalities instead of waiting until your other appointment."

"That would be nice." Flack said with a heavy sigh. "It's been a lot of worry. That could have caused this with Sam, right? Worrying and stressing all the time?"

"We'll look at every possible angle." Gayle told him, rubbing his shoulder as she gently led him away from the desk. "She's in very good hands, Mr Flack. We're taking great care of her. I'll take you down to see her now. She's been asking for you."

"How long will she be here?" he asked, as the nurse guided him down the hall.

"That's up to the doctors once they get the test results and see what the ultrasounds say. She'll be in for a few days at the least. It's possible she could be here for the rest of her pregnancy. We won't know for sure until all the testing is done."

"But they're going to be okay, right? Her and the baby?" he stopped walking and turned pleading eyes on the nurse. "I won't have to loose one to safe the other will I? 'Cause I don't think I can make that decision. I'm not that strong of a person."

"I think right now, the best thing for you to do is try and relax, spend some time with your wife and pray for the best possible outcome. I wish there was more to tell you."

"Just….." he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Just take care of them. Especially her. We can have other kids, right? It's just that Sam…..I can't lose her. Take care of her. Please."

Gayle heard the desperation in his voice. Saw it on his face. "We'll do the best we can." she promised him.

"I need to see my wife now." he said, his voice quiet and strained with emotion.

"She's waiting for you." Gayle said, and led the way with her hand resting on his back.

They walked in silence. The hundred yards seemed like a hundred miles. And each step he took, Flack's heart grew heavier and his strength and will became to crumble even further.

Even the strong had their weak moments. He was beginning to realize that weakness wasn't a sign that he was lesser of a man.

It was a sign that he was human.

* * *

While Flack was completing the paper work down at the nurses station and Adam slipped into the quiet room next door to place a phone call to Gus, Carmen stepped through the doorway of the dimly lit, spacious private room Sam had been admitted to less than an hour before. The only sounds in the room Sam's soft breathing mixed in with the beeps and hums from the fetal monitor attached around her stomach and the EKG machine keeping an eye on her vitals. She was in a semi reclined position in the standard hospital bed. An IV hooked up to her left hand and wires leading from the neckline of her hospital gown. Her face was turned towards the window and her eyes were closed.

Carmen approached the bed quietly and dropped her jacket and purse on the foot of the bed before going around to the side and leaning over the railing to smooth her friend's hair away from her face and press a tender kiss to Sam's forehead.

"I'm scared, Carmen." Sam said in tiny, wounded voice that her best friend had never heard before.

Sam Ross was feisty and stubborn and took no shit but could deal shit out with the best of them if need be. She was tough and edgy when the situation called for it. A little bit wild and eccentric. But there were times she seemed like an overwhelmed, terrified little girl caught up in a big girl's game.

"How'd you know it was me?" Carmen asked, pulling up a chair to sit at her friend's bedside.

"Don doesn't smell like Obsession or have that soft or small of hands." Sam replied, turning her head to the side to face Carmen.

"How are you feeling? Adam said you were having a lot of pain. Has it gone away?" she laid a hand on Sam's stomach. "Have they said anything about the baby?"

"They said the heart rate is normal. Very strong. No signs of distress.That the pain was something on my part. They don't know what and can't check until Don signs the consent papers for an ultrasound. But they said they don't think it's the baby that has the issues."

"Well that's good right?" Carmen tried her best to sound optimistic. "They just need to get you straightened around and everything will be fine."

"I hope so." Sam said with heavy sigh and turned to look out the window again. "I'm really sick, Carmen., They don't know what's wrong for sure but this wouldn't be happening if I wasn't really sick."

"They'll figure it out and get you back on your feet. Okay? Don't give up on yourself, Sam. Or that baby. Or Flack."

"I'm not giving up. On myself or anyone else. I was angry Carmen. Angry and hurt and scared and look what's happened. Look where's it's got me. I brought this on. I caused this all to happen."

Silent tears spilled down Sam's cheeks. Carmen reached out and brushed them away with her fingertips.

"It's going to be okay." Carmen assured her. "Don took care of things. He's on your side a hundred percent, Sam. He told Max to leave and that he was getting a new partner. He was good about it and handled it well. He wasn't nasty. He just told her that the best thing for you was for him not to be so close to her anymore."

Sam sniffled. "He said that?"

"Like you ever doubted he felt that way? Come on, Sam. He loves you. And his baby. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you guys. He's a good guy and you need to give him more credit. Everything he does is what he feels is best for you and the baby."

"I just can't stand the thought of him loving some other man's child more than his own."

"That's never going to happen. Stop worrying about all of that. Just lie there and relax. Adam is calling Gussie and Speed said he'd call the rest of the team and let them know."

"I don't want a lot of visitors." Sam said, shifting uncomfortably in the bed.

"You don't have to have any." Carmen said. "They'd wait outside the room all night to make sure you guys are okay. You know that."

Sam nodded and closed her eyes.

Carmen settled back into the chair and watched her friend as she rested. And prayed everything would be all right.

A knock came to the glass door and Carmen looked up to see Flack and Sam's nurse standing in the doorway.

"Dad's here." Gayle said quietly. "How's our patient?"

"I'm just resting my eyes." Sam replied.

"I'm going to go and call Tim and get some coffees." Carmen said as she stood up and leaned over the bed to peck Sam's forehead once more. "Can you have anything to eat or drink?" the question was directed more to the nurse.

"Fluids only right now." Gayle said. "Until the doctor says otherwise. Tea, water, juice. Even popsicles are okay."

Sam smiled. "Cherry popsicles. Or those three coloured ones."

"I'll bring you back a whole freezer." Carmen said and ran her hand over Sam's hair before slipping away from her bedside. She gave Flack a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand before stepping past him and leaving with the nurse.

Flack went to the side of the bed vacated by Carmen. Tried to ignore all the wires and IV tubes and how deathly pale and sick she looked. He placed a hand on top of her head and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

"I'm sorry." Sam said, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked up at him, her lower lip wobbling.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." he told her. "Why didn't you let me bring you here earlier when you had that pain in the kitchen?"

"I just thought I'd strained myself reaching. I didn't think there was something wrong with the baby. Have they said anything to you? Anything at all?"

"No more than what they've told you." Flack said as he took a seat in the chair. "We just have to sit and wait for your doctor to get off her ass and get up here and do some tests."

"Are you scared, Donnie?"

He nodded and picked up her hand and held it to his lips.

"Me, too." she said and looked towards the window once again.

"I love you." he told her, fighting with his emotions. "Don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere." she said. "At least not right now."

"I mean ever."

A light smile crossed her lips. "I can't promise you that." she said.

"Don't talk like that." he scolded her and reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table. Tearing out a handful and wiping his eyes.

Silence fell between them. She stared out the window at the lights that sparkled on the jet black horizon, her hand resting on her stomach. He sat holding her hand to his face, her knuckles against his cheek. Watching her.

"I heard you fixed it." she said at long last.

Flack nodded. "I did." he told her.

"Thank you."

"For you, Sam. Anything for you. You know that."

She smiled once again and looked at him. "I love you, Donnie." she said.

He leaned across the bed and kissed her softly and rested his head against hers.

She took his free hand, cast and all and set it on her stomach.

They stayed like that for a long time. Each protecting the other. Praying that nothing would shatter their small family.

**A.N.: Sorry folks, the evilness still lingers. Some issues do however get resolved in this. And for all you Sam and Peanut fans, your wish is my command.**

**Also, TPTB have gone and named Flack's sister, Samantha. Two weeks ago,she was Melanie, now she's Samantha. And she's going touch a lot of people. Including Adam and Stella. So we have my Sam who is Adam's sis and is involved with Flack, and now coming up their Sam, who is Flack's sis who by the sounds of it, gets involved with Adam. Confused yet? I know I am. LOL. New readers and TPTB my Sam was created before the other. Just a heads up.**

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. The b/f erased the in box yet again so I have vowed to return reviews ASAP to avoid him being such a silly a. And lurkers? Please come out of hiding. I'd love to hear from you guys.**


	82. A shred of light

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK. SO TAKE THAT JERRY BRUCKHEIMER AND CO.)**

**A shred of light**

"The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You're barely waking  
And I'm tangled up in you  
YeahI'm open, you're closed  
Where I follow, you'll go  
I worry I won't see your face  
Light up again  
Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide."  
-Collide, Howie Day

* * *

The team slowly trickled into Women's and Children's Hospital. Most had been woken up from dead sleeps after excruciatingly long shifts that had plagued the entire lab for over two weeks. Speed and Hawkes arrived together. They'd been the unlucky two pegged by Mac to stay for the long haul that night in hopes of tackling the staggering back log in trace. But when Carmen had placed that call to Speed's cell phone and the worry and concern was so heavy in her voice, there'd been no second guessing where the two men needed, and wanted, to be.

"Visiting hours are over gentlemen." a nurse seated at the front desk informed them as they simply walked past. "Come back between the hours of nine am and eight pm."

"We're here to see Samantha Ross." Hawkes said, in that soft, calm way of his. Knowing that if he let Speed get the first chance to speak, the words that came out of his mouth were not going to be pleasant.

Speed's nerves were nearly frayed from the long hours and he'd been snapping at anyone and anything. Including the vending machine that refused to cough up a bottle of water.

"She's in a private room so there shouldn't be a problem." Hawkes added.

"Family only." the nurse said. "There's three people down there now. Any more and it's going to start disturbing our other patients."

Speed stepped up to the desk and slapped his badge down on top of it. "File a complaint with the NYPD when we start bringing in the kegs of beer and getting too rowdy." he snarled.

Hawkes laid a hand on the other CSI's chest and firmly pushed him away from the desk.

"We both work with Samantha Ross." Hawkes explained to the nurse. "And I also happen to be a doctor and a close friend and former colleague of Doctor Robert Hutchison. The head of this entire department as I'm sure you know. You can call him if you like. Tell him that Doctor Sheldon Hawkes is here and wants access to see a friend. I'm sure he wouldn't be too pleased to find out you wouldn't allow us to see her."

The nurse blinked. "She's being examined right now by her physician."

"Than we'll wait outside." Hawkes said, and laying a hand on Speed's shoulder, guided him away and down the hall.

"What the hell is wrong with people?" Speed asked incredulously, shaking his head. "Do we look like the types that would cause trouble in a hospital?"

"You do look rather dangerous and intimidating when you haven't shaved in a couple days." Hawkes said with a small laugh.

"Carmen says I look like a dime store hood. Who uses that term these days? I think she's read The Outsiders too many times or something. Can you believe this is even happening? How does Flack have so many shitty days? How much can one man take?"

"God only gives us what we can handle." Hawkes reasoned. "And I guess He's dumping all of this on Flack and Sam because He knows they're strong enough to deal with it and get out in one piece when all is said and done. And they'll get out of this."

"You're very optimistic." Speed said.

Hawkes shrugged. "During my residency and my rotation in labour and delivery, I heard and saw stories that were absolutely horrific. Women that suffered ten fold what Sam is going through. And they were nowhere near as strong as she is and they and their babies still managed to survive. That's how I know Sam and Flack and their baby are going to be okay."

"Wish I could be so upbeat and positive." Speed said with a sigh. "It's just not in my nature I guess. I expect and fear and prepare myself for the worst so I'm not as shocked and hurt when it happens. And pleasantly surprised and relieved when it doesn't."

"That's one way of coping." Hawkes said with a nod. "Whatever helps you through."

"You mean other than a two four or a twenty sixer of rye?" Speed asked dryly.

They found Carmen sitting alone on a bank of chairs directly across from Samantha's room. Taking little, half hearted sips from a take out cup of coffee, her eyes riveted on the closed door just feet away.

"What's going on?" Speed asked, his voice quiet as he nodded in the direction of Sam's room.

She snapped out of the daze she'd been in and looked up at the two men standing before her. Speed noticed that her eyes were red from tears and her face was flushed. He immediately feared the worst. He'd never seen Carmen that visibly upset, and knew that something had to be wrong. Desperately, horribly wrong. And when she sat the cup of coffee on the floor and stood up and threw her arms around him and he felt her body trembling against him as she cried, his stomach sank.

"What happened?" he asked, enveloping her in his arms and stroking her hair.

"This is all Max's fault." Carmen sobbed. "I told you that she was nothing but trouble! I told you Tim! And I told Sam and Flack too and now look what's happened!"

"It's okay. What happened? Did they lose the baby?"

"No…." she shook her head and drew away from him and wiped at her eyes. "But she could. And if Max had have just backed off of Flack like Sam asked her too, none of this would be happening. But that fucking bitch just keeps coming around time and time again and just needles and needles at Sam. I swear Max enjoys tormenting her. It's her favourite past time."

"Have the doctors said anything?" Hawkes asked, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"They're doing an ultrasound right now." Carmen replied, untangling herself from her fiancé's arms and sitting back down. "Her OB-GYN and a radiologist and a tech are in there right now."

"Flack's in there with them?" Speed asked, taking a seat beside her and wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders.

Carmen nodded. "All they've told him so far is that her blood pressure and sugar levels are alarmingly high and that when Adam brought her in, she was experiencing pre-term labour contractions."

"At only four and bit months." Hawkes said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, shaking his head at the news.

"I guess they gave her some meds to stop them." Carmen continued. "Indo something or other. I can't remember the name off the top of my head."

"Indomethacin." Hawkes said. "It's used to stop contractions to hold off labour for a day or two. I'm surprised they'd administered it this soon in the pregnancy. It's usually just given to slow things down until doctors can start rounds of antenatal corticosteroid that helps the fetus' lungs to mature. But a fetus could never live at this early of an age. We're talking more if she was twenty four weeks or later where there's a chance of saving it. Did they say if the meds have worked or not?"

"The nurse told Flack that the first round didn't take but the second stopped the contractions all together." Carmen said. "And that the baby's heart rate is healthy and strong."

"Well that's some good news at least." Speed said with a sigh. "I mean, if its heart is beating and its moving around, than things can't be that bad, right?"

He was directing the question at a silent, contemplative Hawkes.

"More than likely it's a problem with the mother." Hawkes said.

"What kind of problem?" Carmen asked.

The ME turned CSI shrugged. "Could be a lot of things." he replied. "Could be the pre-eclampsia is causing her problems. Could be the start of a miscarriage. There's a lot of different things and it's wrong to surmise. I'm sure the doctors will find out exactly what it is and treat it appropriately."

"Do you think it could be a miscarriage?" Carmen asked, fearing the answer.

"I'm not the examining physician." Hawkes replied. "So I can't make a diagnosis based on symptoms. Where's Adam now?"

"In the quiet room." Carmen nodded down the hall. "He's on the phone with Gus. She's on her way here. Mac and Stella are picking her up."

"Whole team coming in?" Speed asked.

"Did you expect anything less?" Carmen responded with a question of her own. "We're family. All of us. You know that."

"I'm going to go and check on Adam." Hawkes said. "I'm sure he'd could use someone right about now. Tell Flack if he needs me or if he has any questions or things he wants me to look over, I'm just down the hall here."

"I will." Carmen assured her colleague and watched Hawkes as he headed down the hall, his hands stuffed in his pockets. She sighed when he disappeared into the quiet room and rested her head on Speed's shoulder and closed her eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Red." Speed said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She managed a smile. "You haven't called me that in a while. I missed it."

"So did I." he said. "And it is, you know. Going to be all right."

"God I hope so. I just want something to go right for them. Everything seems to be going so wrong for them all the time. And this baby means so much to them. The thought that it could be taken away just like that…."

"Don't think that way." Speed scolded her gently. "You heard Hawkes, there could be a lot of different things wrong. The most important thing is that she's here, getting the best possible care and her and the baby are in good hands. The doctors will find out what's wrong and hopefully do something about it."

"What if there is nothing they can do?" she asked. "What if it's beyond hope?"

"Than Sam and Flack deal with that if and when the time comes. And we have support them every step of the way."

Carmen smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're a good man Timothy Speedle." she told him.

"I try my best." he said.

* * *

The door to Sam's room clicked open and Carmen sat up and dabbed at her moist eyes with the sleeve of her blouse as an ultrasound tech in scrubs emerged, pushing a portable sonogram machine in front of her. Following close behind was a tall, slender white haired gentleman in a lab coat, intently reading a medical chart in his hands. Carmen had briefly been introduced to him. Doctor Fraser, the radiologist on call that evening. He was intense and said very little and when he did, he was blunt and straight to the point. He paused in the hallway and waited for his colleague that was still inside. He offered Carmen and Speed a small smile but said nothing.

Doctor Lightheart, a lab coat over top of her street clothes, slipped out of the room next, talking quietly over her shoulder to Flack who was behind her. The two stepped out into the hallway and joined the radiologist. Carmen noticed that although his face and eyes were weary and full of concern, Flack seemed less tense and on edge as he had been when he'd first arrived at the hospital. She took that as a good sign. She was sure if there'd been bad news delivered, his expression and mannerisms would be far more ominous.

"On the plus side of things," the radiologist was saying. "I spotted no obvious signs of fetal abnormalities. The 4D ultrasound will unable me to look closer for smaller, less obvious markers that may suggest a problem. A nurse will bring you and your wife down to the department for ten tomorrow morning."

"That's fine." Flack said. "Thank you, Doctor."

"I have operating time available tomorrow afternoon." Doctor Lightheart said, as she eyed a PDA in her hand. "The sooner we can get the procedure done the better for both mother and baby. As I said to both of you earlier, despite the numerous risks, we feel that the operation is worth it."

"It's a lot of bad things that can happen though." Flack told her with a heavy sigh.

"The chances of anything happening are very minimal." she assured him. "And most physicians feel it's a life saving operation well worth any risk. If we don't do it, she will miscarry the baby. There's no ifs ands or buts about it."

"Will she need the same operation done if we have other kids?" Flack asked.

"Incompetent cervix is rare and although I have seen women that need the procedure with each pregnancy, it's not guaranteed that your wife will be one of them. It would be something we'd keep an eye out for in any additional pregnancies. And the sutures will be removed when she reaches thirty-six weeks gestation, prior to going into labour."

"And what if she goes into labour before thirty-six weeks?" Flack inquired, needing every piece of information possible. "Stitches will still be in. What than?"

"The pressure of the baby in the birth canal and her membranes rupturing would pop the stitches." the doctor replied.

"That's gonna be a hell of a lot pain, isn't it?"

"No worse than actual labour itself."

"It's a big decision to make." Flack said, running a hand over his face.

"I understand that. But we wouldn't recommend it if the life of the baby wasn't jeopardized. If we wait any longer than tomorrow, she could be dilated too far to prevent a miscarriage. We only have a small window to work with. Anything above four centimetres and we're looking at a pre-term delivery. And eighteen weeks gestation is too soon for a fetus to survive outside of the womb. Even with the technology we have these days."

"And she's already at two centimetres?" Flack asked, needing clarification, his brain still struggling to process all the information.

Doctor Lightheart nodded. "If you give consent to perform the operation, she'll be monitored throughout the night and into tomorrow. If she dilates further, she'll be taken to the OR immediately."

Jesus Christ, Flack thought, a hand to his forehead as he paced the width of the hallway. Sorting out his fears and concerns in an attempt to make the best decision for everyone involved.

"She'll be put under general anaesthetic and the operation should only take minutes barring there's no adverse reactions to the anaesthetic or other complications such as maternal hemorrhaging."

"How long until she can go home?" Flack asked.

"If things go smoothly and she shows no signs of infection or complications, she could be home within a week, two at the most."

"What about going back to work?" he asked. "That's the first thing she'll want to know. She can't stand hanging around the house."

"There's a chance she may not be going back to work or normal activities until after the pregnancy." Doctor Lightheart replied. "It all depends on how well her body takes to the operation and if the placental tear is larger on her next ultrasound."

"It's a very small tear." Doctor Fraser added. "I don't see it as being a threat to mother or baby. But she'd need to follow a strict light duty regimen when and if she returns to work."

"And there's nothing else that can be done to save the baby other than this procedure?" asked Flack, closing his eyes briefly, hoping and praying his decision wasn't going to come back and bite him in the ass.

"I wish there was." Doctor Lightheart said. "This is our one and only option."

"Fine." he said with a nod. "Where do I sign?"

Doctor Lightheart held out the clipboard in her hands and handed him a pen from the pocket of her lab coat. "Print your name and today's date on the bottom left hand side. Your signature goes to the right."

"I can't believe this is happening." Flack said, more to himself than to anyone else as he took the pen and followed the physician's instructions.

"I'll leave instructions at the desk that the nurse is to come to set Samantha up for pre-op at one thirty. An orderly will come and take both of you down to the operating suite. You can sit with her until she's put under sedation. Then you'll be directed to the waiting room. Things shouldn't take very long and I'll have someone come and get you when we're done and bring you to the recovery room."

"But someone's going to check her through the night, right?" Flack asked, handing the pen and clipboard back. "Because I don't want her going all night and then into tomorrow and us getting down there and you people telling me that she's past four centimetres and can't do anything."

"A resident will check her every hour on the half." Doctor Lightheart assured him. "And if she feels any pain that she believes may be contractions, you're to have me paged immediately. No hesitations."

Flack nodded in affirmation and shook both doctors' hands, watching them as they headed down the hallway, conversing quietly as they read over the medical charts in their hands. Hoping that he'd made the right decision and that things wouldn't go from bad to much, much worse.

* * *

He turned to join Speed and Carmen in the chairs, but found them already on their feet, waiting patiently for him to be finished with the doctors before approaching.

"What was that all about?" Speed asked, nodding in the direction the physicians had gone.

"How's Sam and the baby?" Carmen inquired nervously. "They're okay, right? Please tell me their okay."

"The baby seems fine." Flack told her. "They didn't see anything that suggests any kind of abnormality or problem. But they want to do a more intense 4D ultrasound to get a more detailed look. But his heart rate is strong and there's lots of movement so they're not too concerned about him."

"Him?" Carmen asked. "You're saying that with absolute certainty."

"Kid opened his legs and took a leak right in the middle of it." Flack said, a small smile curving his lips. "Tech said if that's a girl, it has all the wrong parts."

Carmen stood on her tiptoes and hugged him warmly. "Congratulations. A boy, huh? It's a Kieran and not a Mikayla after all. Is Sam happy? I know how badly she wanted your guys' first to be a boy."

"I think we'd both be happier to hear it if there wasn't so much going wrong." Flack said.

"What's up?" Speed asked. "What they tell you?"

"Doctor Lightheart, Sam's OB did an internal exam and found that Sam's dilated to two centimetres. So it was contractions that she was having."

"Thank God they stopped." Carmen said, relief evident on her voice. "We heard something about taking her down to the OR immediately if there were problems…."

"Ultrasound picked up two issues." Flack told them. "One's a slight tear in the placenta that they're not too concerned about, the other is more serious. A lot more serious. And a necessity apparently if we went the baby to make it."

"You're scaring me, Flack." Carmen said.

"Sam has an incompetent cervix." he explained. "So it's opening long before the baby is even ready to be born. They're going to take her into the OR tomorrow and stitch the cervix closed. It's called a cerclage or something like that. They'll knock her out to do it and it only takes a few minutes if there's no complications."

"What kind of complications?" Carmen asked, her eyes narrowed, dread overtaking her once again. She felt Speed lay a strong, comforting hand on the back of her neck.

"All kinds of crap. I can't remember most of it off the top of my head. Things like uterine rupture and hemorrhaging and bladder rupture. Not to mention it could cause her to just go into labour even more, make her water break and all of that."

Carmen shivered at the list of possibilities.

"If they don't do it, we'll lose the baby." Flack said. "Plain and simple. There's no other option. Believe me, I asked."

"And Sam? How's she handling all this news?" Speed inquired.

Flack shrugged. "She's pretty closed off about it. She wants me to make all the decisions. She's scared and exhausted and just wants the whole ordeal to be over and done with. So I signed the papers and the operation is going down tomorrow afternoon. Pre-op's at one thirty."

"You seem pretty calm about the whole thing. Pretty final." Carmen observed.

"I'm dying inside, Devine. Believe me. But I need to hold it together. For her. I'm not going to do her any good if I start losing it and breaking down and second guessing my decision. She's trusting me to do the right thing, and if I go in there doubting what I've done, she's only going to get even more stressed out. And that we don't need."

"You think you made the best decision?" Speed asked.

"I made the best one I could. For her and the baby."

"Than that's all that you need to be concerned about." Speed said. "Don't doubt it. Just go with it. You're instincts won't lead you far wrong, Flack. And if this is the only thing that will keep that baby from coming way too early, than you made the right choice and I don't second guess or doubt you for a minute."

"Thanks." Flack said. "Because I was starting to doubt myself there for a bit."

Carmen reached out and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "How long will she be here? Do they know?"

"Could be a week or two, could be the rest of her pregnancy. All depends on how the operation goes."

"She up for visitors?" Speed asked.

"She's resting but I doubt she'd object to you guys going in there. I need to go and make a call to her parents. Doesn't seem right holding something like this back. And the Sarge would kill me if he ever found out I hid something like this from him. Tell her I'll be back in a few?"

"Of course." Carmen said. "And grab yourself a coffee. You look like you could use one."

"I could." he agreed, pulling out his cell phone as he journeyed down the hall. "One with about half a bottle of liquor in it."

"Be good, Flack." Carmen called to his departing back. She sighed and looked at Speed.

"Some good news, right?" he asked. "If the operation is going to save the baby, I can't see a reason to say no. The baby being okay far outweighs the risks if you ask me."

"It's a lot of risks." Carmen sighed. "I don't want anything happening to either of them."

"I know." he said, and rubbed her back softly. "But Sam's a tough little thing and she'll get through this. And if that baby is anything like it's mother, a year from now it's going to causing all kinds of havoc and tormenting its parents."

"God I hope so." Carmen told him. "Because I honestly don't know how either of them would cope if they lost this baby."

"Well let's just pray we won't have to find that out. You wanna go in? See how she's holding up?"

Carmen nodded and he laid his hand on the small of her back and directed her towards the room. "I know this sounds selfish, but I am so glad that it's not us going through this. And I hope we never have to go through it. Is that awful of me? To feel that way?"

Speed shook his head and pushed the door open slowly. "It's normal." he assured her. "I don't think I could do it. Make decisions like that. I'm a strong person, but to have to make a decision like that when it regards someone I love that much….I couldn't do it and come out sane in the end."

"Well let's just hope that nothing like that ever happens. Because if you're not the strong, dependable one, I'll be completely lost. What do we say to her, Tim? She's my best friend and I have no idea what to say to her."

"Say, congratulations. Heard you're having a boy. Accentuate the positive all the way."

Carmen laughed. "There's something positive about having a boy? Boys are hell raisers. You have to worry about them getting all kinds of girls pregnant."

"Yeah? And having a girl you have to worry about them teasing the boys and getting themselves pregnant. It's a double edge sword . There's no less of two evils. Both come with problems. Although I am starting to think that every girl born should come with an instruction booklet and a chastity belt."

"Jesus, what are you going to do if we have a girl? Wait up all night with a shot gun in your lap whenever she goes out on a date? Terrorize all the boys in the neighbourhood when they dare look at her in what you consider an improper way?"

"Let's put it this way," Speed said, as he pushed the door to Sam's room open. "My daughter doesn't date until she's thirty. And even than I will run every name and all of their family members through the system to make sure she's safe."

"And what if it's Kieran Flack she decides she has a thing for?" Carmen asked, her eyes twinkling playfully.

"In that case, she's being locked in the house for the rest of her life." Speed declared, motioning for Carmen to step into the room ahead of him. "Can you imagine? Our daughter with Flack's son? He'll corrupt her. If he's anything like his father….."

"What if he's like his mother?" Carmen inquired.

Speed blanched. "That's even worse." he said. "Look at how badly she torments Flack."

"I heard that." Sam's small voice, tired and weary, appeared from behind the curtain pulled around her bed.

"I only speak the truth." Speed said, as he stepped between the curtain and bent over the bed to press a kiss to the top of her head. "I don't want your evil son corrupting my baby."

"How are you feeling now?" Carmen asked, gently rubbing her friend's stomach.

"Tired. And scared. Don told you? About the operation?"

Speed nodded.

"Why does everything always have to go so wrong?" Sam asked, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. "Why can't we just have something go nice and smooth and normal for once?"

No one had an answer for that.

* * *

Gus woke to an empty bed. She'd been in the midst of a fitful sleep. Her brain overwhelmed by medical jargon and the worry that they'd get a phone call in the middle of the night that things had taken a turn for the worse. She had arrived at the hospital with Mac and Stella. And while the rest of the team had paid Samantha brief visits and spent some time lingering and chatting over cups of coffee in the quiet room and in the chairs outside of Sam's room, they'd gone home when the yawning became more frequent and Stella and Carmen's heads kept falling onto Mac and Speed's shoulders. Danny had decided to stick around. He wasn't going to leave his best friend alone in case the shit hit the fan in the middle of the night, and had taken up residence in one of the chairs in Sam's room.

Gus and Adam had hung around for hours despite Flack's insistence that everything was under control and they could leave for the night. But Adam couldn't bring himself to wander to far from his sister and he paced the hallway relentlessly for an hour and a half before Gus suggested they hang out in the quiet room and attempt to get a little sleep. They had drifted off on the couches and an hour later, when she woke with a stiff neck and an aching back from the cramped confines, she had decided enough was enough and went back in to see Sam. Danny was already fast asleep and snoring in the chair across the room and Flack was still up, doing little more than holding his soon to be wife's hand and watching her attentively as she slept peacefully. Worrying incessantly.

"You need to get some sleep, Flack." she had whispered, leaning over the railing of the bed to push hair away from Sam's face and press a gentle kiss to her temple.

"I will." he responded.

"You've had a hell of a day. Don't burn yourself out. She's going to need you and you won't be any good to her if you're completely exhausted."

He had simply nodded and continued his silent vigil.

Gus had fixed Sam's blankets, tucking her in securely, and than headed back to Adam and shook him awake and convinced him the best thing to do was leave. They had gone back to her place. It was closer to the hospital. A shorter drive if something went wrong in the middle of the night. They'd made love slowly and tenderly. And afterwards, she had held Adam tight as he cried tears of worry and shame. Feeling guilty for doing something that made him happy and that he enjoyed while his sister was suffering like she was.

The bedside clock read 2:47. Moonlight streamed through the sheer curtains covering the bedroom window. The sheets and pillow next to her were empty and cool to the touch. In the short time that they had been together, Gus had discovered that Adam Ross could sleep through a nuclear bomb going off right outside the window. He barely moved let alone got out of bed. So not having his warm body to cuddle into was a slight case for concern.

She slipped out of bed and into her robe, pulling her hair out of the collar as she journeyed from the bedroom and down the hall and into the living room. Finding Adam, in his t-shirt and boxers, at the dining room table with her lap top open and on in front of him.

"What are you doing, peanut?" she asked, standing behind him and pressing a kiss to the top of his head and curling her arms around his neck. She had fallen in love with the childhood nickname that Sam had given Adam and couldn't resist using it herself.

"I was just looking up stuff for Sam and Flack." he said, nodding at the screen. "Stuff on incompetent cervix in case there's another option out there for them instead of that operation. I just….I don't like the sound of it Gussie. And I know that the risks are minimal, but they're still there. And that doesn't sit right with me."

"There's risks in everything." Gus reminded him gently.

"I know….." he said with a sigh and rubbed at his weary eyes. "I was just hoping I could come across something that didn't have so many risks attached to it."

"And have you found anything?" she asked, peering over his shoulder at the information displayed on the computer.

"No." he replied, sounding despondent. "The OB was right. It is the only option."

"They're highly skilled and trained specialists, Adam. She's in good hands. And her doctor has probably done this procedure a million and one times and had no complications with any of them."

"There's always that one time, Gussie. And I don't want my sister and my nephew being that one time."

"I know." she said and hugged him to her. "Feel like a coffee?" she asked, massaging his shoulders. "I feel like a coffee. I can't sleep properly with all these thoughts racing through my head. You feel like one?"

"I'd love one." Adam said, and tilted his head back to look up at her.

"Your wish is my command." she told him and kissed him softly. "One shot of Bailey's or two?" she asked, as she padded into the kitchen.

"Three!" Adam called to her.

"You're a man after my own heart, Adam Ross." she laughed and stood on her tiptoes to grab the bottle of Bailey's from the top of the fridge.

Adam logged off and powered down the computer and rubbed at his eyes. They were tired and burning and although his body was telling him to just go back to bed and give in to sleep, his mind was racing and no matter what he did, he couldn't shut it down. He pushed the chair away from the table and yawned noisily and stretched until his back cracked.

He journeyed into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame as he watched his girlfriend busy herself brewing the coffee. Her blond hair tumbling over her shoulders. The satin of her robe shimmering in the light and moving sinuously against her willowy body as she worked. Sometimes it was still so hard to believe that this amazing, sexy, beautiful woman was all his. There were many men in the world that could have her. Men who were far better long and had thick wallets and drove fancy cars and could provide for her and keep her. And she chose to be with him. A lowly lab tech with less than stellar looks and a blue collar job. God truly did work in mysterious ways.

"I love you, Gussie." he said.

She smiled at him. "I love you, too Adam."

"Let's get married." he blurted out.

Gus blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Married. Me and you. Husband and wife. Let's do it."

"Okay….." she said.

"All this stuff going on with my sister and Flack….with the baby and all the other craziness and seeing how much they love each other and battle through everything and never lose that love or their faith in each other. I watched my sister go through hell growing up and with Zack and seeing her with Flack, how happy they are despite the hardships, gives me hope that you and I can be like that too."

"Married, Adam? Are you serious?"

"Hundred percent. I don't know how good I'd be at the whole husband thing. This is practically my first really serious, grown up kind of relationship and I've never even give thought to being married before. Never mind starting a family and what not."

"Whoa….whoa….family?"

"I just want to marry you, Gussie. I know you said a while back that the last thing you ever wanted to do was get married after the disaster your previous relantionships have been. And I know it's hard for you to think about spending the rest of your life with someone when you've grown so accustomed to being alone and I know you said you never wanted kids and all that, but I really, really, really want to spend the rest of my life with you and…."

"Yes." she said, cutting him off mid rambling.

It was his turn to blink. "What?"

"Yes." she repeated, walking over to him and laying her hands on his sides. "Yes to marriage. Yes to husband and wife and to death do us part and all of that. Maybe to the kids, because I'm just not sold on the idea of rug rats. Especially watching your sister go through sheer hell."

"I can live with that. I don't have to have kids. I can always borrow Sam's. I doubt they'll stop at just one regardless of how bad she's suffering. I can be the best uncle in the world and do all sorts of stuff with them. I don't need kids of my own if my nieces or nephews are around."

"Slow down, Adam. Let Sammie have this one before you start planning on others."

"Are you serious though, Gussie? About the marriage thing?"

She nodded and wrapped her arms around him and leaned into him. "Dead serious." she said.

He kissed her. Long and hard, his arms around her warm, welcoming body. "God I love you." he said, looking deep into her eyes.

"I love you, too, Adam. And you changed the way I look at marriage. You've made me realize that not all men hurt. That there are decent, loving, amazing men out there. And I was very lucky to have found one."

He beamed. "I am a pretty damn good catch." he boasted.

"You are." Gus agreed. "And I'll be damn honoured to call you my husband."

He kissed her again. "Could we do something though?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"Let's not tell anyone quite yet. Not with everything that's going on with Sammie. She and the baby need to be the main focus right now."

Gus smiled. "You are truly devoted to your sister."

"She was always there for me, Gussie. No matter what. She'd bear the beatings to protect me. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. Can we do that? Hang onto the news until she's well and out of the hospital? And until I can get you a ring?"

"We can do whatever we want. And I think it's a great idea. The focus should be on her and the baby. Going to be hard keeping it a secret though."

"I know." Adam said and giggled. "I already want to call everyone and tell them."

"There's still a way we can celebrate, just the two of us, without letting everyone else in on our secret."

"Yeah?" Adam asked, reaching between them for the sash on her robe. "Hope it's the way I'm thinking."

"You know, we've baptised just about every available space in this apartment. But there's one we haven't touched yet."

He grinned. "What spot is that?"

"How comfortable to you think laminate is?" she asked, casting a glance down at the floor.

He kissed her passionately. Until they were left panting yet wanting so much more. Desire in their eyes. "Guess there's only one way to find out." he said.

* * *

Samantha stirred. Momentarily forgetting where she was, she attempted to roll over in bed and snuggle up to the warm body that was always there for such moments. Only to feel a sharp pain in the top of her left hand as she nearly yanked the IV line out of her vein and a slight burning sensation from nearly pulling off the sensor pads from the EKG machine attached to her chest. The fetal monitor digging into her stomach. She opened her eyes and glanced around the room. Her dream had been a reality after all. She was in the hospital hooked up to machines and tubes and everything the doctors had said were a reality. Not just some figmant of an overactive imagination.

Danny was fast asleep in the chair by the window. His legs stretched out, boots kicked off and his head tilted at an akward angle. His light snoring and the beeps from the various machines the only sounds in the dimly lit room.

Flack was out like a light in the chair next to her bed. Shoes off, his feet propped up on the mattress, a wool hospital grade blanket pulled up to his chin.

Her bladder ached. And remembering the strict instructions to not attempt to get out of bed alone and not travel anywhere unless she was being pushed in a wheelchair, she pushed herself up in the bed and reached over to shake Flack awake.

"Donnie…." she wiggled his foot back and forth, speaking in a loud whisper. "Donnie."

He moaned lightly and let his head fall to the side, still asleep.

"Donnie!" she shook his foot harder, more urgent. "Wake up! Donnie!"

His head snapped back to its original spot and he blinked several times before finally opening his sleepy eyes and focusing on her. "What's wrong?" he asked groggily. "You have pain?"

"No. I have to go pee. And I can't get out of bed or get to the bathroom alone."

"Okay." he said and rubbed at his eyes and pushed the blanket off as he sat up. He yawned noisily and stood. Than, as if remembering something, he sat back down.

"I really, really have to go." Sam pleaded.

"Baby, you have a catheter in." he said. "You can just go where you are."

"What? A catheter? Why?"

"Don't you remember them putting it in when we got up here? Because you've been having trouble emptying your bladder completely?"

She shook her head. "I don't remember….probably the drugs they gave me. But I don't want to go pee in a tube."

"You don't have much of a choice. It's in there so you have to use it. Just relax and don't think about it and just go."

"It's embarrassing!" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

"Why? Lots of people have to use them."

"Danny's in the room!"

"So? He's sleeping. Besides, he spent many a time at my bedside after the bombing and I was on a catheter for months and it never bothered him. So just lie back and relax and stop thinking about it and just go."

She sighed heavily and lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes.

A couple of minutes passed and she opened her eyes again and looked at him.

"Feel better now?" he asked.

She nodded. Then promptly burst into tears.

"What's wrong, baby?" Flack asked, getting to his feet and leaning over the side of the bed. He laid a hand on the back of her head as she put her head on his chest. "Don't cry….everything's going to be okay…..the doctor's are going to fix everything… I promise."

"Why do bad things keep happening to us? Why? Why can't we just be happy and normal? Look at us! You've got a busted hand and stitches above your eye and had a gun held to your head today! I'm hooked up to all this crap and I have to pee in a fucking bag!"

"It's not permanent." he assured her, stroking her hair. "Once this problem is fixed and your healed from the operation, things will go back to normal. We just have to get things looked after first."

"Why us though? Why can't things go normal for us?"

"Normal is too boring." he reasoned "We need a little excitement."

"I just want to be plain and boring for a while." she sniffled. "Just for a little while."

"Soon." he assured her. "Soon."

He held her head to his chest until her crying subsided, than wiped her tears with gentle fingertips when she pulled away. He bent down and kissed her softly.

"I am so tired." she said, resting her forehead against his lips.

"Lie back and close your eyes and get some sleep." he told her.

"Will you lie with me?" she asked. "I'll feel better if you lie with me."

"You're hooked up to too much stuff, Sam. I don't want to be screwing anything up. You need to be as comfortable as possible."

She nodded, realizing he was right.

He pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down once again. Waiting for her to get comfortable once again before reaching through the railing to take her hand with his injured one. He reached over it and across the bed to stroke her forehead. Running his fingertips along her eyebrows and down her nose and across her cheeks. He'd done it many a time before when she was having trouble sleeping. The soft, feathery motions enough to completely relax her.

"Donnie?" her voice was tired, her eyes heavy.

"Hmm?"

"I love you. Thank you. For taking such good care of me."

"Anytime baby," he said with a soft smile. "And I love you, too. Everything's going to be okay. You have to trust me. In me."

"I do." she assured him.

"I won't let anything happen to you. Or the baby. Ever."

A small smile curved her lips. "Good." she said and closed her eyes.

He ran a finger over her lips and down onto her chin. When he was certain she was asleep, he sat back in his chair and looked at her.

He stayed there, wide awake, watching her until the sun came up.

**Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing!! Much appreciated!! I hope you all keep enjoying this. It's such a joy to write for all of you. I love each and every one of you! I have now banned the b/f from my e-mail. So next chap I shall be back to normal with review replies!**


	83. Words to live by

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS, SOON TO BE SAMANTHA FLACK. SO NO ONE SUE. BECAUSE YOU CAN'T GET BLOOD FROM A STONE. TRUST ME, I'VE TRIED.**

**A.N./ A HUGE THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO HELPED THIS STORY GET TO 600 REVIEWS! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT!  
XOXOXOXOX BEG75**

**Words to live by**

"Stop and stare  
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere  
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared  
But I've become what I can't be, oh  
Stop and stare  
You start to wonder why you're here not there  
And you'd give anything to get what's fair  
But fair ain't what you really need  
Oh, can you see what I see  
They're tryin' to come back, all my senses push  
Untie the weight bags, I never thought I could...  
Steady feet, don't fail me now  
Gonna run till you can't walk  
But something pulls my focus out  
And I'm standing down…"  
-Stop and Stare, One Republic

* * *

Danny woke to bright shards of sunlight poking through the vertical blinds that covered the window next to him. His neck and back both stiff and his ass numb from being parked in the uncomfortable hospital chair all night. He had a brief moment of disorientation. Snapping upright into a sitting position and glancing around the unfamiliar room, the fog gradually lifting from both his brain and his eyes as the events of the previous night came back to him. Of sending Erica home without him and offering to spend the night in case his best friend needed some moral support or even a shoulder to cry on. Settling down in that chair despite Flack's insistence that he didn't need to stay, that everything was under control and he and Sam would be okay on their own. They were almost out of the woods and the nurses and resident physicians were keeping a close eye on things.

But Danny saw that worried, troubled look in Flack's weary eyes and knew staying was the best and only thing for him to do. Flack never asked for help. He was too damn proud and stubborn to seek out assistance even from those closest to him. And Danny wasn't letting him go through the ordeal he was facing alone. Despite their harsh words earlier that day following the raid, they were best friends and nothing would ever change that. They would always have each others backs. And always trust each other with their lives.

After everything that Flack had done for him over the years, Danny felt it only right to start repaying him. Flack never held it over your head or asked for anything in return when he did something for you. A friend like that was rare. Hell, family members like that were rare. Danny found himself having more love and respect for Don Flack Jr than he did for his own brothers and sisters. Even his own parents. Because out of everyone Danny had ever been close to, Flack was the only one to never stab him in the back or disappoint him. And the only one to never cast judgement on Danny or express disappointment in him.

Danny yawned noisily and stretched. He rolled his head from side to side and front to back in a vain attempt to work out all the kinks. He cast a glance over at the bed. Samantha slept peacefully in the semi reclined position recommended by the doctors. It kept pressure off of her stomach and reduced the risk of the contractions returning. The fatal monitor wrapped around her beeped softly as it kept track of the baby's movements and heartbeat. The noise in tune with those coming from the EKG machine that kept an eye on mom's vitals. Both the IV and medicine bags were nearly empty. The nurse would be coming by on rounds so to change them and the catheter bag that hung by the side of the bed.

He'd heard Samantha wake up in the middle of the night and the small exchange between her and Flack. How she'd cried over the loss of dignity being forced to use a catheter had caused her and the worries she had over the operation and the health of their baby. Danny had pretended to be asleep to give them that private, emotionally charged moment. Listening silently to the tender, quiet way that Flack spoke to her and wondering where in the hell the homicide detective had been hiding that part of himself for so long.

Flack was awake in the chair beside the bed. His elbows propped on the mattress and his chin in his hands, watching over Samantha intently. Danny didn't need to ask if his friend had been up all night. It was a give in that Flack would sit there all night and keep an eye on her and their baby. He'd known Flack a long time and had never seen him like that with a woman. Attentive and compassionate. Loving.

Flack was transforming and maturing right before everyone's eyes. He was becoming responsible. A husband and a father. And it made Danny feel bad for ever doubting that Sam and Flack were the real deal. One look at them together and you knew that this was meant to be. Their feelings for each other laid bare in simple glances and touches.

"Morning'." Danny greeted, leaning forward and reaching for his glasses that sat on the window ledge.

"Morning." Flack said in return.

"You sleep at all?" Danny asked, slipping his glasses onto his face and his feet into his boots.

"A bit. Couple hours. If that. Too much going on in my head. I can't stop worrying about the operation. You know, all the complications I told you about."

"Doctor said it was a slight risk that things could go wrong." Danny reminded him.

"I know. But I'm still worried. It's still an operation. It's not something to joke around about."

"It's the best for her and the baby, Flack." Danny said, standing up to stretch his legs.

They both needed a shower and a shave and fresh clothes. And about a gallon of coffee each and some food to put into their stomachs.

"The baby won't make it if they don't do this thing," Danny added. "This was the only decision for you to make. And you know that."

The door clicked open and Gayle stuck her head in and offered up a soft smile.

"How are you two doing this morning?" she asked in a quiet voice, taking in their wrinkled clothes and scruffy faces and the dark circles under their eyes.

"Just lovely." Danny replied. "I thought my couch was uncomfortable. That chair just takes the cake. How are you so cheery this early in the morning? Never mind that, how are you so cheery all the time and all the other nurses around here are the epitome of bitchiness?"

"A long time ago they lost their compassion for the patients." Gayle said. "They just see this job as a pay cheque. I prefer to make things pleasant for my patients and their families. And the day you loose your compassion on this job, is the day it's time to quit."

"Amen to that." Danny agreed. "I say the same thing. The second I stop feeling anything for people, is the day I walk away. Boom. Done."

"How's our patient?" Gayle asked, stepping into the room, pulling behind her a small cart of medical equipment.

"Sleeping." Flack replied, getting to his feet. "She's been out cold since one a.m. She woke up wanting to go to the bathroom. She's got issues with the catheter."

Gayle frowned. "Issues? Pain wise?"

"No. Personal wise. She hates the idea of peeing into a tube and bag. Makes her feel less human. Not to mention she finds it as embarrassing as all hell. How long do you think she'll have to have it in?"

"Probably a few more days. Doctor Light heart will want to keep it in after the surgery to keep pressure off of the bladder. Just as a precaution. I'm going to have to ask you two to step out into the hall so I can check her temperature and blood pressure and change the bags. And the resident is on her way to check to see if there's been any more dilating."

"So you'll have to wake her up." Flack said with a sigh, and looked down at his soon to be wife resting so peacefully and soundly, a soft smile on her lips.

"Unfortunately." Gayle nodded. "We wouldn't do it if we didn't feel it was necessary to check her every six to seven hours."

"I was just thinking more along the lines of how grumpy she is lately when she gets up." Flack laughed lightly. "She used to be one of those really bubbly types that talked your ear off as soon as she opened her eyes. Last month and a bit, she's just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep every morning. Is that normal? To be that tired?"

"All women are different." Gayle answered. "Some fatigue easily while they're pregnant. The blood we sent to the lab last night will show if she's low in iron. She's been taking pre-natal vitamins and folic acid?"

"Faithfully."

"Could be just the way she's been feeling with the high blood pressure and added stress. The tests will pick anything up if there's something to be concerned about. I brought this for you…" Gayle reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black pager. "I know you've been worried about going off the ward for too long. We give these pagers out mostly to the dad's whose partners are in active labour or have a baby down in NICU. So we can get a hold of them quickly and not have to resort to using the public address system. I thought if you had one, you'd feel better about going for a coffee or something to eat."

Flack nodded and took the pager. "I don't know…" he said. "I still don't like going to far."

"She's in good hands." Gayle assured him. "I'll page you if I feel there's a reason to. And if she's that tired, most likely she'll go back to sleep once we're finished here. I'll let her know where you went."

Flack sighed.

"I could use a coffee and a bite to eat." Danny said and clapped his best friend on the shoulder. "You got to be hurting for some food by now. Never known you to go more than two hours without eating something. And I know you're dying for some coffee right about now."

"Go ahead." Gayle urged, moving to the side of the bed. "She's fine. I'll page you if I feel the need to."

He clipped the pager to the pocket of his jeans and went to the bed. Leaning over the railing, he ran a gentle hand over Sam's head, smoothing hair away from her face before pressing a feathery kiss to her forehead.

"I'll take very good care of her." Gayle assured him when he lingered by the end of the bed. She reached out and rubbed his arm comfortingly. "The daddies forget that they need to look after themselves too."

He managed a smile. Every time someone used the word daddy, his heart seemed to tighten a little bit with emotion and he was filled with a sense of peace and happiness that he'd never known until that moment when he saw his unborn child on the first ultrasound. And the thought of having all that taken away from him was frightening.

"Come on," Danny said, laying a hand on Flack's shoulder and gently leading him away from the bed. "You need a break. Let's go and have a coffee and get some fresh air. We both could use it."

Flack went along, albeit reluctantly. He and Danny hung out in the hallway until the resident came and waited for the results of the internal exam. Flack paced, a hand in his hair as he prepared himself for the worst. He figured if he expected the worst case scenario, he'd be more prepared for terrible news. And that he'd be much more relieved and at ease if the results were positive.

The resident emerged ten minutes later with a pleased smile on his youthful face and the announcement that she hadn't dilated any further and the operation could still continue as planned. And that despite the poking and prodding and slight resistance on her part, Sam had simply rolled over after all was said and done and went back to sleep. Giving Flack and Danny the chance to take a much needed breather. And a chance for Flack to sort out the fears and concerns and misgivings clogging his brain.

* * *

They found themselves at a small table at the back of the main floor cafeteria. It was open twenty four hours and was packed solid with the breakfast crowd. Both ordered extra large black coffees and triple shots of espresso and scrambled eggs, toast and bacon to eat. Danny was starving and wolfed his down. Flack did little more than push the food around his plate with his fork.

"Tell me what's on your mind, Flack." Danny said. "Don't get it all in. Not healthy doing' that. And it's why I'm here. To listen and help you out. Give me something to work with here."

Flack rubbed at his eyes. "I'm thinking at that ultrasound. The 4D thing. What if they see something, Danny? Something that tells them there's a problem with the baby? Something long term and debilitating?"

"You and Sam talked about that. That it wouldn't change your minds about having the baby. If there's something there," he shrugged and sipped his coffee, "than you guys deal with it head on and go about things day by day. Still your kid, Flack. Regardless. Even the doc last night said the ultrasound they did looked clear. And why are we even saying it or the baby? Let's either say him or call him by his name. I mean, you're having a son. That's incredible. You and Sam have a name picked out for my nephew?"

"Godson." Flack corrected him. "He's your godson. You know that."

"You never asked me." Danny said.

"I was going to eventually."

"How do you know I was going to say yes?" the CSI asked playfully.

"Are you telling me you'd turn me down? That you'd turn Sam down? You're just like me, Messer. You can't say no to her."

Danny just smiled.

"When Sam and I found out about the b…him, there was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted you to be his godfather."

"Yeah? 'Cause I figured with Carmen being Sam's best friend and the godmother and Speed hooking up with her that you'd ask him."

Flack raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"

Danny shrugged. "You guys seem to spend a lot of time together."

"We spend a lot of time together because Sam and Carmen are practically inseparable and they like us to all get together and do couples things. And I'd be doing that stuff with you and Erica too, but Sam and her have been on the outs and you can't seem to do anything by yourself anymore. Sam lets me out of the house to play basketball and what not and Erica can't seem to let you out of her sights for five minutes."

"She likes to spend as much time with me as possible." Danny reasoned. "She has a tendency to be a little clingy."

"Is it going to be a problem for her if you're the godfather and she's not the godmother?" Flack asked. "If it is be honest and tell me now."

"She might be a little put out. Get her nose pushed in a bit. But Sam and her haven't been close in years and it's up to you and Sam who you want to be godmother. If it burns her ass, oh well."

Flack smirked and sipped his coffee. "Shoulda followed that motto when you were with Monroe."

"Easy, Flack. Easy. Not need to resurrect the past like that. And you know I'm more than honoured to be your kid's godfather."

"You're my best friend, Danny. We've been through a lot of shit together. And you're the only one I'd trust my kid's life with."

Danny's eyes grew glassy and he pulled off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger to stem the tears that threatened. He didn't know if it was because he was tired or because no one had ever asked him to partake in something so important and life altering, but emotion choked at him. He was never embarrassed or ashamed. Flack had seen him cry before. Many times after his brother Louie had come so close to death and when Lindsay was jerking him and his feelings around and Danny got into the JD a little too much and poured out his heart and soul.

Flack had handled those moments just as he did now. By not saying anything. By just being there with that strong, silent way he had at the right moments. He didn't look down on you or accuse you of being weak. Danny had been there time and time again for him after the bombing when the pain during recovery had been too much bear and he just wanted to give up. Curl up in a ball somewhere and die. They always seemed to be there when one needed the other. And it would always be that way.

"So what's my godson's name?" Danny asked, composing himself and slipping his glasses back onto his face.

"Kieran." Flack replied. "Kieran Shaun Donald. Sam's idea throwing Donald in there."

"Nice name. Strong name. Kieran's unusual. Don't think I've ever heard that before."

"It's Irish. Sam bought this baby name book and she looked for ones with Irish roots. I mean, Ross? How Irish can you get? And I kinda like the idea of all our kids having Irish names to go with both our backgrounds."

"Ya always were a proud Irishman. 'Specially when you're pounding back the green beer on St. Patty's Day. So what does Kieran mean?"

"Apparently it means small and black or dark haired."

"Fits. Sam being the size of a toddler and considering you guys are both dark haired. Well, you were, until all of that grey started poking through."

Flack smirked. "I'd shut your mouth, Messer. Don't see my saying anything about you being a four eyes or anything." he teased good naturedly.

"When you get that cast off your hand and we get back out on the ball court, I am going school your ass for that."

"Just wait until hockey season starts and I'm smashing you into the boards." Flack shot back.

"Which is exactly why I'm playing goalie this year." Danny said. "So I keep my teeth and you don't break any of my bones. Like when you broke Pino's collar bone last year. Still say that was a dirty check."

"That hit was perfectly clean." Flack argued. "I can't help it that you and the crime lab and ME office guys are so fragile. And goalie? You can't stay on your feet have the time trying to carry the equipment around on your bony, puny body. How the hell will you manage to deal with the weight of goalie equipment? Buy from the junior department?"

"You're funny, Flack. Trust me, I am all big boy in the areas that matter the most."

"I'll have to ask Erica if that's true." Flack laughed.

"Bastard." Danny said and tossed a package of sugar at his best friend.

A comfortable silence fell between them. They sipped their coffee and finished their breakfasts. Thinking about the many mornings in the years they'd know each other that they'd gone for coffee and something to eat when they were both single and free and everything seemed so much easier. Easier but a hell of a lot lonelier.

"So there gonna be a baby shower or anything?" Danny inquired.

Flack shrugged. "We haven't had time to think about stuff like that. There's been too much going wrong to think of happy, fun stuff. I think Carmen and Stella and Gus will probably get something going. I haven't heard anything as of yet."

"Well once all this bullshit with Sam's health gets straightened away, you guys can concentrate on the bright side of things."

Flack snorted. "Than I've got IAB and Gerrard and Sinclair to worry about. Not to mention all that crap with Max. I just wish…."

"Gentlemen." a familiar voice said from the side of their table.

* * *

"Sid." Danny greeted the pathologist with surprise in his voice. "What? You moonlighting here? Delivering babies in your spare time? Death and gore during the day, women's goods and screaming newborns at night?"

"I will take the peace and serenity and silence of the dead over the circus of labour and delivery any day." Sid replied. "I was present at all my children's births and I'll tell you what, what I saw all those times is far worse than anything that has ever crossed my table. In fact, one time, and this is a great story involving the placenta and a mess it can make when the doctor delivering has butter fingers…."

Flack gagged and cleared his throat.

"Sid," Danny shook his head and pointed at Flack. "He doesn't need to hear that."

"My wife and I were just grateful that the slip up hadn't happened earlier while he was delivering the baby." Sid continued. "Because I've heard very unfortunate stories of doctors…."

"Sid." Danny cut him off again. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I was having a coffee and a quick bite to eat when I spotted the two of you sitting over here and…"

"I mean what are you doing here." Danny clarified. "At this hospital."

"I woke up to a phone call this morning from the night shift ME. Detective Angell had been down looking for some autopsy results on her latest case and she happened to mention that Samantha was here because of problems with the baby. I thought I'd stop by and pay her a small visit. If she's up to it that is."

Flack nodded. "She'd like to see you, Sid." he told the older man. He'd always found the medical examiner a bit on the odd, morbid side, but Sam spoke fondly about him and his work. "And that's nice of you to come all the way down here."

"It's no problem really. It's not that far out of my way and she's always been one of the more pleasant, friendly CSIs to come downstairs. I don't get to see as much of her since she was put on lab duty but I'm always asking the others about her and the baby."

Danny nodded to confirm what Sid was saying.

"Is everything okay?" Sid asked "Have the doctors said what was causing all the problems?"

Flack relayed the story to the older man. Leaving out the part about Max causing sheer hell and Sam storming out of the apartment and high tailing it to her brother's. He was sure Sid would hear it soon enough through the crime lab grapevine. He stuck to the information the doctors had given him and the decision he had made to go ahead with the surgery.

Sid stayed silent, listening to the younger man lay down the facts. Hearing the self doubt that crept into his usually confident, assertive voice. He was obviously struggling with the decisions that he had made. And more than likely had never had to make such choices in his entire life.

"You're a doctor, Sid." Flack said after he'd given out all the info. "Have you heard of this incompetent cervix? Do you know if there's anything else that can be done other than this operation?"

"I have heard of it. And the procedure your talking about. But unfortunately, obstetrics and gynaecology is a field I know very little about. Have you asked for a second opinion?"

"I was basically told that this was the only thing to do if I wanted my kid to live and had all kinds of papers shoved in my face to sign. The OB and the radiologist were both there and said the same thing. That this was my one and only chance to save the baby. Pre-op is for one thirty."

"Not much time for a second opinion." Danny said.

"What about Doctor Hawkes?" Sid inquired. "I know from working with him that he did rounds in labour and delivery during his residency and probably knows a lot more than I do."

"Sam talked to him." Flack responded. "He said it was the best choice. But he didn't come right out and say it's the only choice. I'm just worried that by the time I ask for a second opinion and they manage to get someone in, they'll tell me she progressed even further and there's nothing they can do."

Sid nodded. "I can understand not wanting to take that chance. For what it's worth, as a father and seeing my wife go through her own difficult pregnancies, if I was faced with this same situation, I would have made the same decision as you.."

Flack nodded and gave a smile of appreciation. Hearing Sid say that and knowing how much Sam respected the man's work and judgement made him feel much more at ease with his own decisions.

"Thanks, Sid." he said, trying to hide a lump of emotion in his throat. "That means a lot."

Sid smiled as well and laid a hand on the detective's shoulder. "Being with a woman is never easy. But what doesn't kill us will make us stronger."

"Or insane." Danny offered.

"I think I'll head up now." Sid said. "I promise I won't stay long. I know how vital proper rest is for both mother and baby. I will see you two gentlemen later."

"See ya, Sid." Danny bid farewell.

"Thanks." Flack said, and watched as the tall,slender ME headed through the busy cafeteria. Having gained a whole new perspective, appreciation and respect for the man.

* * *

Samantha stared at the breakfast tray in front of her. The doctor had given the thumbs up to a light meal now that her sugar levels had come back down to normal and the nausea from the medications had passed. She had felt some of her spirits brighten when Gayle had come in with the tray of food and let her know it was all systems go to get some food into her belly. Despite her overwhelming desire to do nothing but sleep, Sam had never been so hungry in her entire life and was dying to get something, anything, into her stomach.

Until she sat up and saw the meal that was dropped in front of her. A bowl of runny oatmeal, two slices of dry toast, a small container of red hospital jello that she knew, from experience, had absolutely no taste whatsoever. A plastic cup of plain tea and a container of cranberry juice rounded out breakfast. She picked up the spoon and scooped up some oatmeal. It ran off the spoon and back into the bowl and she felt her stomach lurch at the sight.

She dropped the spoon and turned her attention to a slice of toast. Taking smile bites that she washed down with the weak, lukewarm tea. The smell and the look of the oatmeal was making her queasy and she covered the top of the bowl with a napkin in an attempt to hide the disgusting sight. She concentrated on the toast and the jello, which tasted surprisingly good on her empty stomach.

She wanted to go home. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to have an operation. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep in her own bed. Bury herself under the covers and wait out the next four and a half months.

But she knew that without that operation, her baby wouldn't survive, and as she was sitting there, feeling sorry for herself, a strong fluttering sensation appeared in her stomach. The baby moving around as if to remind her that he was still there. To not give up on him. Or herself.

"If you stare at it long enough, it just may talk to you." Sid Hammerbeck's voice said from the doorway, breaking into her daze.

Sam looked towards the door and smiled. She hadn't realized she'd spaced out and had been staring at a spoonful of jello she held in front of her mouth.

"I was hoping it would grow legs and walk away." Sam said. "And judging by the taste and the look of this food, I wouldn't be surprised it it did."

Sid returned her smile. "At least you haven't lost your sense of humour in spite of all of this."

"If I didn't find a reason to laugh, I'd be doing nothing but crying." she admitted.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the bed side chair.

"Of course." she replied, pushing the tray away and pushing herself up further in the bed. "How'd you know I was here?" she asked.

"Detective Angell mentioned it to my night shift ME. He thought I'd like to know considering our work history and gave me a call. And here I am."

Shrugging out of his coat, Sid draped it over the end of the bed and reached out to pluck the napkin off of the bowl of oatmeal. He frowned at the sight.

"Now that is just an abomination." he declared and picked up the entire tray and moved it to the window ledge. "I come bearing gifts." he said, and sitting down on the edge of the bed, opened the small paper bag he'd brought with him and reached inside. Coming up with a banana muffin.

Sam smiled brightly. Her stomach and her eyes said yes. Her brain said no. "Thanks, Sid." she said. "But I can't. I'm on this restricted diet before my operation."

"One little muffin is not going to hurt." he assured her. "Go on. Take it. I would not steer you into dark waters. I am a doctor, remember?"

She grinned and nodded enthusiastically and accepted the delicious smelling and looking treat from him.

"How are you feeling?" Sid asked, getting up to settle himself in the bedside chair.

"Okay." Sam replied, breaking some muffin off the top and popping it into her mouth. "A lot better than I was last night. The pains have subsided and the contractions and dilating stopped. I'm not sure how much you know."

"I ran into Detective Flack downstairs. He told me what happened and about your condition and about the operation you're having. How are you feeling about all of that?"

She shrugged, eyes focused on the food in her hands. "I can't say that I'm surprised that I'd have something pretty uncommon wrong with me. Nothing has seemed to go right in my life the last few years and this is just something else to add to the list. Things have been insane since I've come to New York. I think I've spent more time in hospitals in the past four months than I have in my entire life."

"And the operation?"

"I'm scared. Any kind of operation is scary. And when they told us about all the possible complications…." her voice trailed off and her hand found her stomach. Rubbing it in slow, soothing, protective circles.

"From what Detective Flack told me, the chances of anything going wrong are low and that without the operation, the baby won't survive."

Sam sighed. Tears welled in her eyes. "I can't lose my baby." she said in a small voice.

"And you won't." Sid assured her, leaning forward to lay a hand on her arm. "This operation will see the baby through the next four and half months. The benefits far outway the risks from where I'm sitting."

"I just wish…I wish there was something else we could do. Without having to resort to surgery."

"But you realize this is the only choice there was to make?" Sid asked.

"Don wasn't given any other option. He was told that this was the one and only thing he could do. He didn't have a choice but to make the decision he did."

"And you don't feel he made the right one?"

"He made the decision that he felt was right for me and the baby." Sam said.

"But do you agree with that decision?" Sid pressed.

Sam picked at the muffin, slipping small crumbs into her mouth as she thought long and hard about how to answer.

"Don wouldn't do anything that he didn't feel was the right thing to do for our family." she said finally. "I trust him with my life. With our baby's life. And if he felt that this was the choice to make and the chance to take, than I put all my faith and my hope and my trust in him. Because I know he wouldn't do anything that would put me or our son in harms way."

"Than hold onto that faith and hope and trust and it will see you through." Sid told her. "And love. And these three remain. Faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

Sam smiled. "First letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians." she said. "Chapter 13, verse 13."

Sid nodded in appreciation.

"Don and I are having Carmen read that at our wedding." Sam told him. "I know that it's just a small, informal thing, but we wanted something that held special meaning to us. And we're both Catholic and thought that that quote seemed to fit. Especially in light of the way things have been going lately."

"I think it's perfect." Sid said. "Now I have a little something for you."

"You mean more presents?" she teased. "It's not even Christmas or my birthday."

He stood up and reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. Sitting back down, he carefully opened it and dumped the contents into his hand. "When my wife was going through her first pregnancy, things didn't look so promising. She had a lot of problems, just like you. And there were many a times we found ourselves sitting in a hospital room just like this. We'd lost all our faith and our hope in the darkest hours. Thankfully, after five months of strict bed rest, our daughter was born healthy."

'Thank goodness." Sam said. "That must have been tough. So you know what we're going through."

"Very much so. My wife's aunt, she's a stickler for superstitions. And good luck charms. Lucky penny, rabbit's foot, horseshoe, you name it. She happened by a religious store and this woman, believe me, she was the last person who would step foot in a place like that. She was more voo-doo hoo-doo than rosaries and holy water. Anyhow, she saw this little quartz rock with the outline of an angel engraved into it and something told her to buy it. It got my wife through some tough, long, lonely days."

Reaching out, Sid took her hand in his and place the smooth, cold stone in the palm of her hand. "I was talking to my wife before I left this morning and we both agreed that we wanted you to hold onto it for a little while. Until that baby has made his way out into the world safely."

She stared down at the simple token in her hand. Tears pooled in her eyes.

"God bless you and your family." Sid said, laying a hand on her stomach. "And watch you and keep all of you."

"Thank you." Sam managed, then promptly broke down. She closed her free hand over his and held on as tight as she could.

"Faith, hope and love." he said and did his best to comfort her.

* * *

The sunshine felt good on their tired faces as they stood by the side of Flack's SUV, still parked in the short stay lot and bearing no tickets or warnings on the windshield. He'd handed Danny the keys so he could get home in twenty minutes as opposed to the forty five it would take on the subway. Danny was going to go and grab a shower and clean himself up before heading over to Flack's to grab him a few days worth of clean clothes and some personal belongings. Sam's room had its own shower that the nurses said he could use. And a shower sounded damn good at the moment.

Danny leaned against the driver's side of the SUV and pulled a pack of smokes and a lighter from his jacket pocket. He shook one out and lit it. Than looked up as he took a deep drag to see Flack with his hand outstretched.

"Thought you quit." Danny said, handing him the pack and the lighter.

"I did." Flack replied, taking out a smoke and lighting it. "Sam asked me too and I did. But I've also given up drinking and I need something to calm me down and take the edge off. The stress is unreal, Messer. You have no idea. And I figure smoking is the lesser of the two evils."

"She's gonna kick your ass when you go up there smelling like smoke." Danny said.

"She'll understand. I think she'd rather I'd be smoking than finding a bar that's open this early in the morning and getting shit faced by eleven."

"Good point." Danny said and took a long drag of his cigarette.

"Look, Dan-o," Flack was the first to speak after a long silence. "I just wanted to say I was sorry. For the things I said to you yesterday. After the raid. I know you were just doing your job and all that and I completely over reacted."

"You'd been through a hell of an event, Flack. You'd had a gun held to your head and the trigger pulled. And you held one of your guys' head in your lap as he took his last breath. Totally understandable why you'd react like that."

The detective shook his head. "I was a complete prick. I never should have said the things I did. About Ruben Sandoval and Rikki. That was way out of line. I was just lashing out. I wasn't saying them to intentionally hurt you."

"I know. You were just pissed off and traumatized and all that. And it may have seemed like all I cared about was my job. But I was worried about you and what you'd been through. I was just worried about doing everything right. You know how it is with department related shootings and all that. I just wanted to make sure all the bases were covered. And first and foremost, that your ass was covered."

Flack nodded. Considering what Danny had said. "About time you came to my aid than me running to yours." he teased.

"Figured it was time to start re-paying ya for all the bullshit you've put up with over the years. You could have easily turned Rikki in and you didn't. You could have washed your hands of me after that whole Minhouse thing and you didn't. You went back to the scene and busted your ass to make sure you proved that I didn't do it. You and…" his voice cracked. It had been a long time since the name had crossed his lips. "Aiden." he finished with difficulty.

Flack sighed and inhaled deeply on the cigarette between his lips. "Wonder what Aiden and Sam would have thought about each other." he mused.

"They would have loved each other." Danny said quickly. "Two fiesty Brooklyn girls together? They would have been a force to be reckoned with. I wonder what Aiden would have said to find out you were getting married and having a kid."

Flack smirked. "Other than 'it's about fucking time' or 'I feel sorry for the poor girl'?"

Danny grinned. "Yeah….that's definitely what she would have said. Hell, I say both of those things about ten times a day when I think about you and Sam together."

"All I know is that Sam and Aiden would have clicked right away. And I wish she was here to see Kieran born."

The CSI nodded and gave a sad smile. "I wish that too, Flack." he said. "I wish a lot of things about Aiden."

Flack sighed and tossed the butt of the cigarette down on the pavement and ground it out with his heel. "I better head back in."

"I should be back in a couple of hours." Danny told him, turning around to unlock the driver's side door.

"There's some money in the compartment between the front seats if you need to fill the tank."

"Anything else you need other than some clothes and some personal shit?"

Flack shook his head as Danny climbed into the truck. A sudden and unexpectedly thought hit him and he knocked on the window as his best friend started up the ignition.

"What's up?" Danny asked as he rolled down the window.

"I need a favour. When you go into the bedroom to grab some clothes. I need you to go in the top drawer of my dresser on the left hand side. There's a book in there. Inside the front cover you'll see a piece of folded computer paper. I need that."

"What is it?" Danny asked curiously as Flack walked away from the SUV.

"Things I should have said a long time ago." he replied without looking back.

* * *

Sam was awake, watching CNN on the small hospital supplied television when Flack arrived back at the room. There was no sign of Sid. He'd taken off for work fifteen minutes before. But in his place was a large arrangement of brightly coloured flowers in a glass vase with a small balloon stuck in the dirt that read GET WELL SOON.

"Your other boyfriend stop by or something?" Flack asked light heartedly, leaning over the bed to kiss her softly.

"They're from the your guys at the station." she replied, then wrinkled her nose. "Have you been smoking?" she asked, accusation in her voice.

"I just had one." he assured her, than prepared himself for the onslaught of criticism that would come flying out of her mouth.

However, she merely shrugged and reached for a glass of ice water on the beside table. "I guess there's worse things you could be doing." she said and sipped the water through the straw.

"That was not what I was expecting." he told her, smiling as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Well it's true. You could have easily turned to booze. And you're not the type to run off and snort coke or shoot up or anything drastic like that. So if smoking is your one and only weakness, I consider myself lucky."

He leaned over to kiss her again. "I love you." he said, nuzzling her forehead with his nose.

"I love you, too. Did you eat? I hope you ate something."

"I did. And for once, stop worrying about other people. There's worse things for you to be concerned with than whether or not I'm eating properly. Sid came up and saw you? Were you awake?"

She nodded and rolled over onto her side to face him, having to be careful with the IV tubes and fetal monitor still attached to her. "We had a nice visit." she said

"Danny's going to go home for a bit and than he's gonna go by our place and get me some clothes and grab you some pyjamas you can wear instead of these hospital gowns that don't cover your ass properly."

She giggled. "The thought of Danny rummaging through my undergarments is just plain wrong. If anything goes missing, I'll know he's got them and either wearing them or sleeping with them under his pillow."

"You're disturbed." Flack told her.

"I need to keep my perverse sense of humour. It's the only thing that's keeping me sane at the moment. You know, you should have someone look at your stitches to make sure everything is still intact."

"Your nurse looked at it earlier. She even put a clean bandage on for me. So don't worry. I am on top of things. Please stop worrying about other people so much."

"I can't help but worry about you. You're going to be my husband. You're the father of my baby. Why wouldn't I worry? And concern goes both ways."

"I know, " he said with a sigh.

"It was nice of Danny to stay over night." Sam said, laying her hand on Flack's thigh. "He knows he didn't have to, right?"

"He knows. But he wanted to. And I'm glad he was here. Because if anything had have happened…" he couldn't finish. He just couldn't think about anything going wrong. Thinking about the negative would only drive him insane. Instead he picked up her hand and held it tightly, his thumb tracing over her smooth, pale skin.

"There was a crane collapse in Harlem." Sam told him. Eager to change the subject. "I guess it happened about an hour ago. It's all over CNN."

"That's the third incident like that in a two months." Flack said. "Guess all the critics are right. Too dangerous putting those huge things up in residential areas. Anyone killed?"

"They're still trying to figure that out. So far one resident of the building it nearly took out when it fell and the crane operator are missing."

"He's a goner for sure. Can't survive that. And I bet you whoever the tenant in that building is in most likely dead. I can just see where the department is going to go with this. They're gonna look at everything from operator error to simple industrial accident to terrorism. 'Cause a building can't fall down in New York City without someone thinking Bin Laden was behind it."

"You are such a cop." Sam teased.

"It's what you love most about me."

"Actually," she said. "What I love best is when you're just you. And you're not all tough and assertive and you're just yourself. Don Flack without the badge and the gun and the attitude."

"So you like me passive and submissive? 'Cause that is never going to happen."

"No." she said with an exasperated sigh. "I just like it when you're you. Am I making any sense?"

"A little." he told her, pressing a feathery kiss to her forehead. "But I think the meds they're giving you are messing with your brain a bit."

"Probably. I'm on enough of them. When can I go home? Have they told you anything?"

"All they said was they would see how the operation went and how well you're doing afterwards and go from there. Could be next week. Could be next month. Could be when the baby is born."

"Christ, I hope not. I was suppose to move this weekend."

He laughed. "All this going on and you're thinking about that? Carmen and Speed have it under control. They've got a lot of help. That should be the last thing on your mind."

"I know. But I kind of wanted to help."

"Help do what? You can't lift anything over fifteen pounds. The best place for you to be is here. Okay?" he let go of her hand and laid his hand on her stomach. "It's the best place for both of you. You know that."

She nodded in agreement. "We should probably head down soon. Gayle said we didn't need a porter. That you could just take me down. I should be fine walking."

"Nice try." Flack smirked. "She already told me you'd try that on me and that you needed to go down in a wheelchair."

Sam pouted dramatically. "I'm not a damn invalid." she complained.

"Yes, sweetie," he said as he stood up. "Unfortunately you are."

* * *

"You know what I was just thinking about?" Flack asked, as he pushed the wheelchair down the back hallway towards the radiology department forty five minutes later.

The nurse on duty that had taken over for Gayle had been graciously enough to cap off the IV and medication line and remove the catheter for the trip downstairs. But had said, with no ifs ands or buts, that they were all going back in as soon as they got back.

"Food?" Sam teased, tilting her head back to grin at him.

"Well that too. I was thinking about all your education and stuff and you still became a cop. What would you have done for a living if police work wasn't your thing?"

"The things that don't go through your mind, Don." she said with a chuckle.

"I'm serious. I've thought about it a few times since we've met. You've got this masters degree and I've got a grade twelve. You'd think you'd be with someone more your speed. Brains wise."

"You sell yourself short." Sam scolded him.

"So what would you have gotten into if you weren't a cop?" he asked.

"I don't know. I guess my second and third choices were a professor or a lawyer."

"Prosecution or defense?" he inquired.

"Does that matter?"

"You know how cops feel about defense attorneys. Paid to discredit us. Flush all our work down the toilet and make us look incompetent."

"I think I'd fare better as a prosecutor." she said. "Seeing the immense hatred I have for the scumbags clogging up the justice system."

"Or a professor. Like a forensics professor?"

She nodded. "I did entertain the brief thought of going back to school for my masters in profiling and applying for a job with the FBI. I still think about it from time to time."

"Yeah?" he sounded surprised. "Would you ever do it?"

"Probably not now. Things are different now. But yeah, a lawyer or a professor. Why?"

"I was thinking, if you were one of those, would you still have come to New York?"

"Of course. There was nothing left for me in Arizona. And I needed to get away. To save myself. And my brother is here."

"True." Flack said. "But if you were something other than a cop, we probably never would have met."

"I'm sure our paths would have crossed somehow. Maybe when I paid visits to my brother. And if I was a lawyer, the chances of us running in to each other during a trial would be high."

"But still. You wouldn't have wanted to be with someone like me. A homicide detective."

"Don, I only met you through your job. I'm not with you because of it. So let's turn the tables. What would you have been had you not joined the NYPD?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know." he replied in all honesty. "I guess I would have gone into construction or sanitation. I'd have enough of learning after high school. The thought of going to college did little for me. And my grades weren't that great anyway."

"Okay. So in another existence lets say I would have been a lawyer and you would have been a construction worker."

"And there's no way in hell you would have wanted anything to do with a construction worker. And the chances of us running into each other would have been slim to none." he concluded.

"Maybe. But you'd be that construction worker that would make cat calls at me every time I passed by on my way to work."

He laughed. "You know me so well. But seriously, we probably never would have met had we not both been cops."

"I like to think we were destined to be together and that we would have met somehow." Sam said. "And I would have noticed you in a court house if I was a lawyer and you were testifying in case. And I would have noticed you out on the street. Those eyes are pretty hard to miss. I would have taken one look at them and been all over you."

"Always comes down to the eyes." he said and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

"Always." she agreed, as he pushed her into the radiology department. He parked her by the chairs on the left hand side of the waiting room and than went to the front desk so he could hand in her chart and requisition form.

She looked down at her left hand and opened it. In her palm was the quartz rock that Sid had given her earlier. She said a little prayer and asked for some form of good news before closing her hand tightly around the stone as Flack joined her.

"They said it's not going to be long." he said, sitting down in the chair beside her and taking her hand. "I guess Doctor Fraser is a big wig around here and made sure you got an emergency spot on the top of the list."

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

Flack nodded. "And terrified." he admitted, tightening the grip on her hand.

"Me, too," she sighed. "We'll get through this right? No matter what happens?"

"We will." he assured her. "Me and you, Sam. We'll get through this. Through anything. It's going to be okay. As long as we stick together."

"But if it's bad news than what…."

He leaned sideways in his chair and silenced her with a kiss. Looked deep into those trusting golden eyes.

"Together." he said simply.

She managed a smile.

"That's what it comes down to." he told her. "Me and you. Nothing else and no one else matters. The baby needs us to hang in there. Regardless of what this ultrasound says. He's still ours. He's still our son. Kieran is still our baby. We made him together and we take care of him together. No matter how hard or how simple it's going to be."

"And you can honestly handle it? If there is a problem?" she asked.

"I love adversity. I thrive when faced with a challenge. I mean, I'm still here right? I'm still with you regardless of the torment you put me through."

"I love you just loved the pain and suffering." she teased.

"In some cases, I love it very much." he laughed and kissed her cheek. "Just remember that love will get us through anything. That's one thing I'm sure of in this world."

She smiled and closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. Feeling his chin rest on the top of her head and his soft breath in her hair.

Faith, hope and love, she thought.

And it was true. The greatest was love.

Now could it really conquer all?

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Lurkers, please drop a line!**

**Today, I am plugging:**

**Aphina: The Tale of Two Girls and Finding Kate (over in Miami land)**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes, Moving on and Visit from the Past**

**Brrtmclv: Bonds**

**Forest Angel: Coming Home and Legacy**

**And of course, Views from Brooklyn by me (shameless, I know. LOL)**

**Also, keep an eye out for a new story Aphina and I will be posting soon. I am certain all of you will love it!**


	84. Who Your Friends Are

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK. SHE'S MINE. **

**Who your friends are**

"When my fist clenches, crack it open  
Before I use it and lose my cool  
When I smile, tell me some bad news  
Before I laugh and act like a fool  
If I swallow anything evil  
Put your finger down my throat  
If I shiver, please give me a blanket  
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat  
No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes."  
-Behind Blue Eyes, The Who

* * *

Flack watched from the doorway as Scagnetti departed. The determination and confidence the big man exuded as he left with his brief yet stern instructions brought a sense of purpose to the younger man. With the physical passing and burial of his wife behind him, he could, and would, concentrate on two fundamental things. Taking care of his child and bringing the bastards who robbed him of his wife and his children of their mother, to justice. And the quicker and more painful and final the justice the better.

"Is everything okay, daddy?" Daniel asked from behind him, still at the desk busying himself with his colouring.

The kid was just too damn perceptive. He noticed everything. Picking up on nuances in peoples voices and mannerisms when things just weren't quite right. And never wasting time questioning someone on it either.

"Everything's fine, buddy." he replied, turning back into his office and shutting the door. "You almost done? We can go upstairs and see who's there to visit?"

Daniel nodded. "Almost done….what did Uncle Tony want, daddy?"

"He just wanted to come and see how I was doing and ask me some things about mommy."

"What kind of things?" the child asked, neatly packaging the markers in order of his favourite colours.

"Nice things." Flack assured him, and picked up Mikayla's knapsack and unzipped it. He stuffed the sympathy cards inside and closed the bag back up. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Daniel nodded and tidied up the desk. He put the markers and scrap paper away in the drawer before jumping down off the chair, clutching his newest masterpiece. "Look, daddy." he said, holding up the picture. "I made it for you."

Flack took the colouring and studied it. Two very distinct stick figures. One with short dark hair and the other with long dark hair and a halo above the head and wings on the back. A lump formed in his throat as he put two and two together and realized what the drawing was meant to represent.

"That's you and mommy." Daniel told him. "See mommy." he pointed out the halo and the wings. "She's an angel now."

Flack said nothing. There was nothing he could say. Daniel was doing what kids did best. Tell it like it is.

"Will you hang it on your wall, daddy?" he asked, pointing to the area behind the desk that was covered in various drawings and school projects. The kids had been asking him to display their various creations since the first day he'd moved into his office. Finger paintings and Crayola marker masterpieces hung in between posters of wanted fugitives and maps of the city.

Flack nodded and snatched a thumb tack from a holder on his desk and posted the picture in the middle of all of the others. Below the one he had just hung was a picture that Samantha had coloured with Mikayla just a days before her death. She had held onto the baby's hand while she printed their daughter's name and than had Mikayla holding the picture when they greeted him at the door after yet another excruciatingly long shift.

"Show daddy what we made him." Sam had said, the pride and love for their baby girl evident in her voice and her in her eyes.

And it hit Flack just than that he would never hear his wife's voice again. He'd never hear her refer to him as daddy or call him by his name. And he would have given anything to hear her call him Don one more time. Donnie even. That had always been her favourite. Hell, he could even take her calling him Donald. Just as long as it meant hearing her voice one last time.

He was terrified that he would forget what she sounded liked. That one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't remember the sound of his own wife's voice. He didn't want to forget anything about her. What she had smelled like, the way her hair felt when it brushed him in bed, the way her body moved alongside of his and the taste of her lips and the feel of her hands on his body when they made love. What hurt the most was all the plans they had made for their future and that of their family. That she'd left when there was still so much for them to experience together. That there'd been an innocent life inside of her. A baby that had never stood a chance and had, along with its mother, deserved so much better than what had happened to them.

Someone will pay for this, he thought, closing his eyes briefly in a vain effort to hold back the rushes of memories that came upon him when he least expected it. Someone out there killed my wife or knows who did and they are going to pay. I will make them pay. If it's the last thing I do.

Mikayla stirred on the couch. Letting out a small cry when she woke to an unfamiliar place. The sound jolted Flack back to reality. That there were two kids in that room that needed him. Four kids that relied on him and trusted him to come home to them each and every night.

"Time to go, Daniel." he said, and went to the couch and picked the baby up into his arms. Bouncing her lightly and stroking her hair and whispering soothing words into her ear.

Mikayla circled his neck with her tiny arms and nestled her head into his shoulder.

"Do you think mommy is happy, daddy?" Daniel asked, carrying the knapsack over one small shoulder. "Do you think that she's happy in heaven?"

"I hope so." Flack replied and opened the door, letting Daniel pass through before following.

"But we're not happy." Daniel said matter of factly.

Flack wondered if they would ever be happy again. But for the sake of his son, he put on a brave face and smiled down at the little boy walking beside him.

"One day we will be." he said.

* * *

Danny wasn't having a good day. He'd arrived home from Flack's shortly after midnight. After the clean up had been completed, he had accepted Lindsay's invitation to head out for a coffee and they'd spent nearly three hours wandering Central Park and catching up on the last ten years. He found that unlike when she'd been in New York and part of his life, conversation and laughs came easily and found himself liking her more as a person and less as the object of desire she'd been years before. She was bubbly and intelligent and compassionate and understanding. She had probably possessed all of those characteristics from day one, but he'd been so caught up on hooking up with her and trying to appease her and hang on to her day in and day out that he'd never gotten to know her inside and out.

Despite himself, Danny had felt something, even after all of these years, for Lindsay. He had tried so hard years ago to make things work. He had put up with her standing him up and had chased her to Montana and tolerated her manipulating his feelings for her to get what she wanted. One moment she'd be loving and sweet and the next she'd be closed off and frigid. While he wasn't proud of a night of drunken sex on a pool table, he'd never regretted it or denied enjoying it. And he'd shut himself off from her and the others that matter most in his life after Ruben had been murdered. He realized he should have let her and the people that care about him the most in. That he shouldn't have put up that brick wall. That had been the start of their demise. And than he'd met Erica and felt things for her that he'd never felt for anyone before. She'd come into his life at a time when he felt desolate and alone. And he loved her and his kids more than anything in the world.

But he couldn't deny that the minute he'd seen Lindsay at Flack's the day before, something sparked inside of him. Sometimes there was always that one person in your life that you never got over. That you always felt something for regardless of how things ended or how many years had passed.

The trick was not letting your heart and your hormones run your head.

He'd arrived home from their coffee date and Erica had been waiting up and lowered the boom on him. She was furious that his ex had shown up at Sam's funeral. Danny had argued that it was Lindsay's right, as a human being and a former colleague of Sam's, to come and pay her respects. Erica had laid into him. About how Lindsay had never had any respect for her cousin than, so why bother extending some now when it was too late. He'd calmly told her that the lack of respect had gone both ways. That both women had had the chance to be friends and let bygones be bygones and they never swallowed their pride and took it.

That had infuriated Erica. And when she'd asked where he'd been for so long and he'd been honest about it, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Both kids had been woken up by the screaming and the door slamming and Erica had took off into the bedroom, leaving Danny to comfort his bawling children who were afraid their parents hated each other and were getting a divorce.

It wouldn't be the first time either of them had entertained the notion. Erica was getting tired of being married to a cop and dealing with the stress that came with it day in and day out. She'd been on his ass to quit and get into another profession. Every time she suggested it, he looked at her as if she'd lost his mind. What else was he going to do? All he knew was police work and forensics. And he enjoyed it and had moved up the ladder and pay scale and was Stella's right hand man. Just as she been Mac's years ago.

Carmen had been promoted into the lead hand position that had been vacated when Sam was murdered. No one had mentioned it to Flack. Carmen started on Monday and Stella had been attempting to get a hold of Flack to come and clean out Sam's office and locker. Carmen would need the office and a new CSI was starting that would require the locker. Danny pitied Stella for having to make that phone call. He sure as hell didn't want to be doing it. He'd already placed once crappy phone call to his best friend. And once was enough.

Danny slammed his locker shut and sat down on the bench behind him. He pulled off his glasses and closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He had a splitting head ache and an aching back from sleeping on the couch all night. Chloe had woken up that morning and halfway through breakfast, announced she wasn't feeling well and threw up all over him and a very disgusted Aiden. Danny had had to clean the horrid, stinking mess and do a load of wash and re-shower before he could leave for work. And to top the day off, a run in with a perp had turned into a ten block foot chase that ended with both of them going into the Hudson. He'd had to come back to the lab and shower all over again to get the stench of the water out of his hair and off of his body.

And to make matters worse, he just couldn't stop thinking about Lindsay Monroe.

Montana.

Danny sighed and opened his eyes and put his glasses back on. He glanced down the row of lockers to the one decorated with various brightly coloured stickers. One of the boys had taken the liberty to dress mommy's locker up a bit. The masking tape that bore the name S. FLACK written in red magic marker was still near the top of the door. It was peeling and wrinkled. He could count on one hand the number of times Sam had changed the piece of tape in ten years. It killed him inside to think that in less than forty eight hours, that tape and the content of the locker wouldn't be there anymore.

He was brought back to that day nearly a decade ago, when Samantha had come into the locker room in shorts and a tank top and that hot little body on display. She'd roller bladed to work. But not before getting all of her hair chopped off. He'd called her Detective Spice for the longest time off of that. Each time he said it she'd give him that perturbed smirk and a roll of her eyes and say, 'fuck off and grow up, Messer' in that Brooklyn accent of hers.

He'd miss her. Terribly. She'd been one of his closest friends and the woman responsible for turning his best friend into a better man. A husband and a father and an all around better human being. And it killed Danny inside to think about Flack suffering like he was. They were all suffering. Still in shock over what had went down. Not a day went by that they didn't rant and rave at the heavens for the unfairness of it all. And each day, when that case folder sat unsolved on Stella's desk, they questioned their profession and asked why in hell they just couldn't catch a break in it. Just something small to go on. They weren't asking for much. Just a little help.

We'll catch them, Danny told himself as he stood up and grabbed his badge and gun sitting on the bench. He clipped both to his pants and headed for the door. He cast one last glance over his shoulder, imagining Samantha sitting on the bench, laughing and chatting with him and the others.

We have to catch them, he thought. I have to. And I will.

If it's the last thing I do.

* * *

"Uncle Danny!" the little voice shrieked from down the hall.

Danny paused on his way into the trace lab. He'd made a conscious decision to re-run samples taken from Sam's clothes through the GC/MS in hopes of coming across something that may have been overlooked. It was a long shot, but there was always a possibility of something sneaking under your nose. And he didn't want to take that chance.

That little boy now running towards him, weaving in and out through the crowded hallway, deserved justice for his mother.

"Hey, buddy," Danny greeted, dropping briefly to one knee to scoop his nephew and namesake up into his arms. "What are you up to? You visiting?"

"Daddy brought me." he said, pointing to the familiar face making his way down the hall, a bright eyed and cheerful Mikayla toddling alongside of him, holding on tightly to his pant leg.

"You and your dad out having some fun, huh? Thought you'd come by and see me?"

Daniel nodded. "And we went to McDonalds and had a Happy Meal. And played in the playground."

"Sounds like fun."

"And daddy let me wear his policeman sunglasses and sit in his desk and I drew him a picture and he put it up on his wall and everything."

"You guys sounds like you had a busy day. Bring me back anything from McDonalds? A Big Mac? Fries? Coke? A hot apple pie? Anything?"

"No."

"No? How could you do that to me? Huh?" Danny commenced tickling the little boy until Danny was shrieking and laughing and turning bright red in the face and announcing he was going to pee his pants.

The sound of the child's laughter warmed his heart. It had been a while since Danny had felt that way or had a trace of a smile cross her lips. And it felt damn good to smile again. Even if it was just temporary.

"How ya doing, Flack?" Danny asked, as his best friend joined them.

Flack shrugged his broad shoulders and hoisted Mikayla up into his arms. "I'm okay," he said. "I've had better days, but I'll live."

"Each day gets better right?" it came out more as a statement of fact than a question.

"So they tell me." Flack said with a sigh. "But so far, I'm still waiting."

"It'll come." Danny assured him. "No rush. No set time limit. You just keep puttin' one foot in front of the other and breathing and you'll be all right."

Flack nodded. "I'll remember that." he said. "I was just talking to Scagnetti. He was telling me that there's some interesting rumours going around. Have they reached the lab yet?"

"Depends which rumours you're talking about." the CSI said. "You know what this place is like. Everybody talks about each other around here."

"I'm talking about the Wilder gang, Dan-o." Flack said, his voice serious and low enough just for them to hear.

Danny nodded slowly.

"You've heard it haven't you." Flack's tone and his eyes were accusing. "Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Danny carried Daniel across the hall and knocked on the window belonging to the trace lab. Alexis, her red hair falling in her face as she intently peered through a microscope, looked up and towards the noise. She smiled brightly when she spotted Flack and the kids. Danny motioned for her to join them out in the hall.

"Auntie Lexi!" Daniel cried happily when she journeyed towards them.

"Hey, big guy. Come to visit huh?"

"Daddy took us to McDonalds and let us play in the playground. And I wore his policeman sunglasses and I drew him a picture!"

"Sounds exciting." she turned to Flack and smiled softly and reached out to rub his back. "How ya doing, Don?" she asked.

"I'm okay." he replied. Truth was, being there, in the lab, in the same halls that Sam had walked many a time and looking at the rooms she had toiled many a long shift in, was killing him. But for his children's sake he hid it well. Or at least he thought he did.

"I need to talk to Flack." Danny told her. "Can you take Daniel and Mikki to the lunch room or something? Let them watch tv or take them to the bullpen to go on the computers?"

"I can." she said, and looked to Flack for confirmation that it was okay with him.

"It's fine." he assured her and passed Mikayla over.

Danny put Daniel on the ground and the little boy took Alexis' hand and they headed off down the hall together.

"Me and you need to have a word." Danny told his best friend, and led him down the hall and towards the office he'd inherited when Stella vacated it to take Mac's place and she'd promoted Danny to her old position. Something Danny had never thought would happen in a million years. But Stella had shown trust and faith in him. She had handed him the ball. And he wasn't about to drop it.

* * *

"Tell me why you never said anything about the Wilder Gang." Flack demanded, as he found himself striding into the well lit, brightly coloured office.

"Wasn't my place to say anything, Don." his friend replied, shutting the door behind him. He motioned for Flack to have a seat before going behind his desk and slipping into the comfortable, revolving leather chair. He noticed Flack's hesitation in sitting. "Sit down, Flack." he said. Not a suggestion. More like an order.

"Don't pull your supervisor bullshit on me, Messer." Flack snarled, taking a seat. "I'm a lieutenant and higher than you and you should be calling me sir and fetching me coffee. Now tell me why the hell you never said anything about this."

Last I had heard, Mac was going to go and talk to you. I guess Stella asked him to. Seeing as you and her are on the outs right now, I suppose she thought best way for you to find out was through someone you trust."

"I trust you, Danny. I always have. And you kept this from me?"

"It's still an open case, Flack." Danny reasoned. "An open case you have no active part in. I can't just discuss it with you."

"You can't discuss it with me? You're my best friend, Messer. You have been for years. This isn't just a case. This is about my wife. Someone murdered her Danny. And the talk going around is that that someone has ties to the Wilder Gang. A gang that I thought I put out of business eleven years ago. And you didn't think I have a right to know all of this?"

"Of course you do. But it just wasn't my place to tell you. Like I said, Mac…."

"Mac has no more business in an open investigation than I do." Flack said, cutting his friend off angrily. "I have a vested interest in it. It was my wife, not his. And he doesn't even work for the lab anymore."

"But he's the commissioner. And as commissioner he's the head of the entire NYPD. He's appointed by the mayor to do that duty. It's not like he's overstepping his boundaries getting involved. Everything that happens in the NPYD crosses his desk. No exceptions. You know all this, Flack."

"So why hasn't he come to me than? If he thinks I should know about this? 'Cause if it's the Wilder gang or some off shoot of it, you just know they're itching to get revenge and they won't stop at just Sam."

"Give him some time, Flack. I'm sure he's been meaning to get a hold of you."

"Give him time?" Flack laughed. "Time? Is time on my side, Danny? Is time on my kids' sides?"

The CSI sighed and shook his head.

"And now the feds? The feds? Those guys couldn't tell their ass from their elbow and I have to trust them to find who killed my wife and protect my family? To hell with that shit. I've got my own plans. And trust me, it will turn out a lot worse for the Wilder Gang if I get to them first."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to, Flack?"

"I'm taking care of my family. And getting justice for my wife."

"Don't do this, Don. I know you're hurting. You're heartbroken. But you've got four kids depending on you to stick around for all of their lives. You can't go off looking for revenge. What good is that going to do? Rob your kids of a father and a mother. No good can come of this."

"You don't understand, Danny. If this was your wife…."

"If this was my wife I'd trust the system to come through."

Flack snorted. "The system? The system doesn't work. We both know that. We've seen it time and time again over the years. The system is fucked up. Look at Clay Dobson. He got out and raped and murdered and would have done it again all 'cause Dean Truby was a crooked cop. Than Truby gets out and rapes my wife to get revenge on me. And what about DJ Pratt? He got away with raping all kinds of women until Aiden took it upon herself to try and stop him. And look what happened. He killed her because of it."

"But he paid in the end, Flack. We caught him. And we caught Truby for what he did to Sam. Just like we'll do whatever we can, with the feds, to catch whoever killed her. Have faith, Flack. For your kids. For Sam."

"I lost all faith the day she died. Faith in my job, faith in the system. Faith in myself."

"So what are you trying to say?" Danny asked. "That you're going to go hunt down the Wilder Gang or the people that run with them one by one?"

"If that's what it takes. I will knock on every fucking door and break every fucking head until I find who killed my wife. And than I'm going to bring him back here and I'm gong to toss him in front of the feds and all the brass and I'm going to walk in Gerrard's office and hand him my badge and walk back out again and never look back."

"You'll walk right into handcuffs and a jail cell, Flack!" Danny argued. "You'll end up in prison and your kids won't have anyone! Don't do this. This isn't worth being away from your kids. Nothing is worth that. And how do you think you can go after these people and not get caught?"

Flack stared long and hard at his best friend. "I'm going to need help." he said.

"This is fucking insane." Danny laughed dryly and shook his head. "Madness. Absolute fucking madness."

"You're either with me or against me, Messer."

"You know what? How dare you ask me to even do something like this. To put my career on the line because of your desire to play Serpico. We get caught doing this, and we're finished. We'll find ourselves sitting in Rikers for the rest of our lives. And if we ever do get out, we'll be old and grey and our kids will be the age we are now. They'll have grown up without us. And I don't know about you, but I want to watch my kids grow up."

"I need you, Danny." Flack's tone was desperate. "And you'll either back me or you won't. Plain and simple."

"I love you like a brother, Don. You know that. Those kids, your kids, mean the world to me. But my own mean more and I won't fuck up their lives. I'm sorry. I can't help you. I won't help you."

Flack nodded slowly.

"You need to quit talking all this crazy shit and let us and the feds to their jobs." Danny told him.

"She was my wife, Danny!" Flack bellowed, slamming a hand down on the top of the desk as he sprung to his feet. Danny jumped back in his chair, visibly startled. "She was my wife and those motherfuckers killed her! And you have the nerve to sit here and tell me I'm playing Serpico? Wilder's people said the same thing to me years ago when I was working my ass off to get you and Adam outta that warehouse! I saved your ass! I've always been bailing you out of something and the one time I ask for your help you all but tell me to fuck off?!"

"Calm down, Flack. Just calm down and take a seat and take it easy."

"Sam was my everything. My entire life. And they took her from me."

"Jesus, Flack. You think I don't know how much you loved her? I was with you through all the drama when she was pregnant with Kieran and I was the one you came crying to when she told you she'd cheated on you with Speed and that those twins probably weren't yours. I was there, me and Mac, sitting with you in the hospital as the doctor told you what that sonofabitch Truby did to her. And when that DNA under her nails came back, I was the one that went after him and knocked the shit outta him before bringing him. So don't tell me I've never helped you."

"So what? You hold it over my head forever?"

"Of course not. But I loved Sam like a sister. We all loved her. But I can't disrespect her memory by even entertaining the notion of helping you. And I can't disrespect her by letting you, the love of her life and the father of her kids, do something so fucking stupid."

"What are you going to do, Danny?" Flack asked. "Rat on me?"

"If it prevents you from losing your kids and winding up in jail. Or worse. You losing your life. You do this, Don, and I will go straight to Mac. I will skip right past Gerrard and Sinclair and go right to the top."

Flack's eyes darkened. "You wouldn't do that, Danny."

"I will. To protect you. And most of all, to protect those kids."

Flack, his hands on the desk top, loomed menacingly over Danny Messer. The two men embroiled in a tense stare down. Neither of them spoke. Or blinked.

The phone on top of Danny's desk rang noisily. Only than did he break eye contact with the furious blue eyes above him.

He snatched up the phone. "Messer." he said in way of answering. He listened for several seconds. "All right…" he said. "I'll be right there."

Hanging up the phone, he looked up at Flack once more.

"I gotta go." Danny said. "Some autopsy results I've been waiting forever for are finally in."

Flack nodded and stepped back from the desk. "Go and do your job, Messer." he said, as he turned and headed for the door.

"Go and get your kids, Flack. Get your kids and go home."

The lieutenant didn't respond or look back as he stepped out into the hall and than disappeared.

Danny sighed and leaned back in his chair and briefly closed his eyes.

Give him strength, Sam, he prayed. Give him strength and guidance. Don't let him do this.

Danny could only hope that those prayers would be answered. And that he wouldn't have to do anything drastic.

* * *

Stella had a pounding headache and a queasy stomach. Both due to the case report and autopsy and crime scene photos spread out on top of her desk in front of her. The stickers on the tops of the folders all reading the same thing. S. FLACK CASE # 34-8796. Alexis' name graced the bottoms of the photos and Stella's appeared on all the paper work and beside the signature of the ME on the final autopsy report. The main cause of death had been dissection of the aorta due to a single gunshot wound to the chest. She'd also suffered massive blood loss and the disruption of oxygen to the brain which had caused a severe stroke that rendered her brain dead.

There had been hope that she'd ever come out of the coma. The only thing that had been keeping her alive was the machines and the faith and hope and love of her husband. And even in the end, when faced with the truth and the evidence of her condition, Flack had had to let her go. There was no quality of life. She wasn't alive anymore. And he couldn't make her suffer.

They all supported his decision. It was the best one to make for not only her, but himself and their kids. But it didn't make the loss any less tragic or the grief easier to bear.

Stella could not stop thinking about what had happened. From the moment she ran into that warehouse at the sound of the gunshot and found Samantha lying there, a pool of blood quickly spreading beneath her, gasping for air and frantically grabbing at Stella with one hand and the wound in her chest with the other. Stella would never forget the look of panic and fear in her friend's eyes. Or how quick she'd stopped breathing right there with her head in Stella's lap. One of the uniforms had preformed CPR. Stella herself had been too frantic to even remember how to do it properly. And he'd managed to bring her back long enough for the EMS to arrive and take over. They'd lost her twice in the ambulance alone. And they would have pronounced had Stella not pushed them out of the way and took over chest compressions.

She couldn't bring herself to throw out the bloody clothes from that day. That blood was her last link to Samantha Flack.

That and the gruesome pictures before her and the cold, harsh words she and Alexis had written through floods of tears.

Her elbow was on the desktop, her forehead in the palm of her hand when a loud, harsh knock came to her office door. She glanced up, her eyes moist, and saw Don Flack standing in the doorway.

"We need to talk." he said, and didn't wait for a response before stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

As he approached the desk, Stella hurriedly gathered the photos and the papers and shuffled them together and stuffed them into their appropriate files. She didn't want Flack seeing them. More because she didn't think he could handle it rather than him having no involvement in the case.

"I've already read the reports, Stel." he said, catching the name on the folder. "And I don't need to see any photos. I know how my wife died."

"I'm glad you're here, Don." she said, and gestured for the chair in front of her desk. "I've been trying to call you all morning. About a couple of things."

"I've been busy." he answered gruffly. "What did you want?"

She blinked at his harsh tone. "I wanted to ask you a couple things. About Samantha."

"What about her?" he asked.

She gestured to the chair once again.

"I'll stand." Flack told her. "What about her? You wanna know something, ask. 'Cause I have some things I want to ask you too."

"Why didn't either of you tell anyone she was pregnant? The autopsy report came back and said she was almost three months. Why didn't you or Sam say anything? You must have known for a while."

"We were waiting until she was past the first trimester to say anything. Especially after the miscarriage between the twins and Mikayla. We didn't want to get our hopes up and everyone excited and than have something happen. We were erring on the side of caution. What does that have to do with anything? Pregnant or not, she would have still died."

"If I had have known, I never would have let her come out into the field."

Flack laughed dryly. "So now it's her fault that she's dead. My fault even. Because we felt like keeping our private life just that. Private."

"You or Sam had a responsibility to that baby to tell me so neither that child or Sam was at risk. You know that, Don. How many times did we go through this with all the other pregnancies?"

"That's it, Stel. Blame me. Blame me for my wife's death so it makes you sleep better at night."

His tone was cold and harsh. His eyes blazing.

Stella stared at him. Startled. "Excuse me?"

"Whatever helps your conscience. I mean, it must make you feel like shit to know you let her go into that scene alone. Sam wouldn't have gone in there if you had have told her not to. She was too smart to put herself in danger. You must have thought it was safe and told her it was okay to go in alone. I know about the phone call, Stella. I've talked to the uniforms that were there. I know you took a phone call from home and when Sam worried about the scene being compromised if it sat for too long, that you told her to go in and start and that you'd be in in a second."

Stella had no response.

"You told her to go in. She only followed your instructions. And she's dead because of you. This never would have happened if Mac was still in charge. It's your fault, Stella. It's your fault my wife is gone and my kids have no mother. And you sit there all high and mighty and blame me. And Sam."

"No." Stella shook her head, tears threatening at the cruel words. "It was no one's fault, Don. It happened. And God knows I would do anything to take it back. To make a different decision. To bring her back. Hell, to take that bullet for her."

"Why'd you lie to the press, Stel? Why'd you tell them that Sam went into that scene against your orders?"

"I never…"

"I read it this morning. It's in black and white. They quoted you saying that she went in against your orders. Yet you're telling me the complete opposite. What's the truth, Stella? Do you even know?"

Something inside of her snapped and she was on her feet in a shot and around her desk, confronting her old friend. "I never said a negative word about her! To anyone! I mentioned she went in after I mentioned maybe we should wait for back up. It was only after I made the call and found out that back up was twenty minutes away that she worried about the scene being compromised. I agreed with her and sent her in."

"Alone. You sent her in alone. After what happened in '08 and Mac implemented that no one goes in alone. Ever."

"Well this is my lab and I make the decisions. Mac isn't here anymore."

Flack snorted and looked her up and down, making it clear he was not impressed by what he saw. That she came up short in his estimation. "Yeah…I know….and that's a damn fucking shame for this entire city."

"What do you want me to say, Flack? You want to hear that I feel like shit? Because I do. I am barely holding on by a thread here. And I can't look myself in the mirror for what happened to Sam. But I am damn good at my job and this lab is my baby and I run it impeccably. So you can take your opinion and get the hell out of my office. And don't come back until you talk to Sinclair and Mac about your decision to come in here guns blazing. Because I don't need to take this shit from you, Lieutenant."

"You opening your mouth to the press is fucking my family over, Stella!" he yelled. "Because you said that, IAB is going to extend their investigation and that means the department holds onto her pension pay out and vacation pay even longer! I have four kids to feed and bills to pay! What the hell am I suppose to do?"

"I can't lie just so you can feed your family, Flack! As harsh and cruel as that sounds, it's true! I'm sorry about, Sam. It makes me sick when I think about what happened. And my heart breaks for you and those kids! But I am doing my best here!"

"You're best? You're best? Do you have any suspects? A month later? Any suspects or leads?"

"You know I can't talk about that with you, Flack."

"What can you talk to me about? Because I need something here! I need reassurance that you will find who did this! That they'll pay and you can't give me that. I need something. Give me something. I just need you too…" his voice faltered and he looked away. "Jesus, Stella, I need some kind of answers. That's all I need. And I need Sam. I need her and I want her back."

And with that, all his dissolve and anger crumbled and he broke down.

"Please, Stella." he begged. "I need something."

"How about someone, Don?" she asked, and drew him into her arms. Holding him tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, her hand stroking his hair as he sobbed. "It's okay…" she whispered. "This will get better….I promise you this will get better…"

"I'm tired, Stel. I am so tired. I can't take this anymore. Breaking down like this. It happens all the time. Even when I least expect it."

"It's normal." she assured him. "It's still fresh and the wounds are still open and raw. No one expects you to be better over night. You need to take the time to grieve. And grieve as long and as hard as you want."

"It hurts…fuck it hurts so bad…"

"And it will. And you have the right to hurt and cry and rant and rave. Just direct it at the proper people. Okay?"

Flack nodded and pulled away from her. "I'm sorry. Coming in here like that….it was uncalled for. I never should have done that. I was just angry and I'm hurting so bad and …."

"You don't have to justify yourself to me, Don. All right? Never to me." she reached up and wiped his tears away with gentle fingertips. "Do you want to go and grab a coffee? My treat?"

"I can't. Thanks though. I have Daniel and Mikayla down with Alexis and I don't want to leave them for too long."

Stella nodded. "Maybe some other time?"

"Of course."

She offered up a small smile. "Friends?" she asked.

"Always." he assured her.

"There's something else I need to talk to you about, Don. There's some business we need to take care of. Regarding Sam."

"Okay…what?"

"I need you to clean out her desk and her locker. I know that's not what you needed to hear right now, but I have Carmen taking her place as lead hand on Monday and a new CSI starting that will need that locker. I was going to do it myself, but I wanted to give you the chance to do it. Or give me permission to."

He understood where Stella was coming from. The lab was a place of business and she needed to keep it running smoothly. And life went on. As cruel and painful as it was to admit it. Life did indeed go on. It had to.

"I can do one or the other." he said. "But not both. I just couldn't take both."

"You want the desk or the locker?" she asked, going behind her desk and removing the printer paper from is box and than bringing the now empty box to him.

"Locker, I guess. You don't mind?"

"Not at all. She was my friend, Flack. Not just my employee. And doing this.." Stella fought tears. "Doing this gives me a sense of closure to. A goodbye of sorts."

Flack sniffled noisily and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

Stella laid a hand on the side of his face and shook her head. "Oh Don…" she said, her voice and resolve breaking. "I am so sorry…I am so, so sorry…"

Than it was her turn to cry. Right there in her office with curious eyes watching from the hallway.

And it was his turn to comfort.

* * *

Flack stood, eyes closed, his forehead resting on the cold metal of the locker in front of him. His hand tightly gripping the combination lock. The pass code long ago stored in his brain. She hadn't changed that lock in a decade. And he remembered all those times he'd gone in that locker to leave her small notes or tokens of affection. The card and gift he'd put it there the morning of their wedding. What he had written may have been short and sweet, but it had been from the heart and he remembered it as if it was yesterday. The diamond hoop earrings he had bought for her sat at home, on top of her jewellery box. Exactly where she had put them when she'd removed the earrings the night before she died.

He gathered his composure. Took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. He opened his eyes and looked down at the lock in his hands. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face what he would find in there, but knew this was just another step on the road to healing. The combination came easily to him and the lock opened with a small click that seemed to reverberate in the empty room. He removed the lock and dropped it into the box on the floor beside him and popped open the door.

There were pictures on the inside of the door. Varying in years. One of them that had been taken at Tavern on the Green the night of their wedding. Photos of them after each birth of their babies. Weary yet smiling with a sleeping infant resting peacefully and innocently between them. Two in the case of Daniel and Mackenzie. One with daddy, the other with mommy. There were pictures of their kids during special milestones in their lives. Birthdays and Christmases and sports victories and school assemblies.

He removed each picture carefully and set them gently in the box. The kids might want some of them. If not now, sometime in the future. Others he'd take and set them in a memory box Sam kept tucked away in the back of their closet. And every so often, when he wanted to reminisce he'd take that box out and look inside.

There were a pair of well worn black Doc Marten boots with frayed laces and loose stitching on the soles that he knew were really meant for the garbage. She'd loved those boots. Wearing them nearly every day since the day they first met. Declaring them the most comfortable things on earth. They were older than Kieran and looked it. The trash longed for them.

Flack placed them in the box instead.

Hanging on one of the hooks was an NYPD sweatshirt that she'd long ago stolen from his side of the closet. The thing was nearly two decades old now and had tattered and frayed cuffs and small holes in the fabric from being well worn and well loved. He reached out and gently removed it from its spot. It smelled like her. That mixture of soap and water and perfume. And he couldn't resist bringing it to his face and drawing a deep breath. Than, after several minutes, he folded it neatly and sat it with the other stuff he'd packed.

On the other hook was her knapsack. Holding her wallet and running shoes and a pair of shorts and tank top. A towel and a empty water bottle. She had had plans to go the gym on her lunch break with Alexis. So close yet so far. He had expressed concern that she had wanted to work out while she was pregnant. She had assured him that she just wanted to do a little cardio and weight training. Nothing too strenuous. It seemed like such a petty thing to argue about after what had gone down.

He sat the bag at his feet.

On the top shelf were personal articles. A hair brush, a handful of elastics, some bobby pins. A small makeup bag she used to transport blush and mascara and eyeliner and lip gloss to work. A travel bottle of shampoo. Deodorant. Each item he placed in the box. Slowly, methodically.

His fingers brushed along the shelf to check if he missed anything. They grazed over what felt like a small piece of paper. Curious, he slid it towards him and than let it drop from the shelf and into the palm of his hand. It was a business card. Of all the times he'd gone in her locker before, he'd never come across it. And it wasn't just any business card.

It was his.

From when he was still just a lowly second grade detective. He flipped the card over and saw, in his own handwriting, all of his old telephone numbers. Work cell, personal cell, home. Even his email address. It was the card that he had given her the first day they had met and he had told her, as he jotted his numbers down, to call him anytime. For any reason.

He couldn't believe she'd kept it all that time. The corners were bent and the ink was fading and the paper discolouring. His chest tightened and tears threatened yet again and he felt numb from head to toe.

He knew he couldn't continue. That that simple business card had him down and out for the count. And he sank down onto the bench and stared at that small item in his hands as if it were the most precious thing on earth. His hands trembled.

A small, soft hand fell on his shoulder.

He looked up. Into the gentle eyes and smile of Lindsay Monroe. He didn't think of asking what she was doing there. She hadn't worked there in years and it should have been the first question on his mind.

All he could think of was how glad he was to see her standing there.

"It's okay." she told him, patience and understanding in her voice and in her touch.

He shook his head.

She nodded reassuringly and offered her hand.

Flack took it and stood up.

"I'll help you." she offered and dropped his hand and moved in front of the locker.

Flack caught her by the wrist and stopped her from touching anything.

Lindsay looked at him. Saw the pain and suffering in his eyes.

"Thank you." he managed.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing!! I appreciate and love each and every one of you!!**

**PLUGS: **

**Aphina: The Tale of Two Girls**

**Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes**

**Brrtmclv: Bonds**

**Forest Angel: Coming Home, Legacy**


	85. Take the good with the bad

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN**

**Take the good with the bad**

"Just like when you have fallen  
I will be there when you rise  
In all kinds of weather  
I will be there when you rise  
Ohhh... It's the most peculiar feeling  
I don't know what's coming  
After we die  
Ohhhh...I will be there when you rise  
I will remember your pain  
And your fears  
Ohhhh Come on  
Come on yeah  
Face that fear  
Every moment that you are."  
-Will Dailey, Rise

* * *

She couldn't tear her eyes away from that five by seven coloured photograph in her hands. It was just a print out from the high dimension printer that had been hooked up to the 4D ultrasound machine, but to Samantha, it was the most amazingly beautiful thing she had ever seen. Neither she nor Flack had ever experienced anything quite like it. Watching on a computer monitor in real time as their unborn son yawned, stretched and made facial expressions.

Despite the early gestational age, they were able to clearly make out features. Eyes and nose, chin, lips and ears. One tiny hand and arm waving through the air, the other hand curled into a tight fist. A head full of dark hair. They had been so amazed and overcome by the sight of life inside of her, that tears flowed easily and they were completely unaware of the small crowd gathered around the other side of the screen. Two medical students, Doctor Fraser, and an ultrasound tech. The latter taking orders from the radiologist on what specifically to focus and zoom in on. What to take measurements of and what to highlight. Very blunt and straight to the point as the older man peered closely at the screen and pointed at different images and spoke in a low voice to the students standing eagerly behind him.

The ultrasound tech, a young man with orange streaks in his spiky brown hair and wire rimmed glasses, was the only one who spoke to the parents. He pointed out the different facial features and the umbilical cord and placenta. The tiny, wrinkled feet and hands. A very obvious and noticeable penis.

"I think it's safe to say that that is a boy." the tech had said with a cheeky grin.

For some reason, the way the words came out and the expression on the young man's face had caused Samantha to burst out into hysterical laughter. Something so sudden and unexpected that not only was Flack and the tech taken aback, but the stern, cold faced radiologist and his minions even looked over with a mixture of amusement and concern on their faces.

"I have a penis inside of me," she had said, than proceeded to laugh even harder. To the point where she suddenly announced she thought she was going to wet herself and she was wracked by uncontrollable, painful sounding hiccups.

Up to that point, Flack had been quiet and sullen. Scared that that doctor was going to turn to them and hand them a massive list of things that were wrong with their baby. He'd sat by the side of the bed, watching his son on the screen with tears in his eyes and emotion choking him. He'd smooth her hair away from her face and hold her hand and watch the wonder and awe in her eyes as she studied their baby. And he wondered how in the hell she managed to stay so strong and keep a smile on her face despite everything they were going through.

But when she made that comment and her bubbly, intoxicating laugh had taken over the room, a tremendous amount of relief lifted off of his shoulders and he couldn't hold back his own chuckle. He knew it was mostly likely due to her frayed nerves that she had come out with a comment like that. He'd felt her trembling throughout the entire scan and she'd complained several times through chattering teeth how cold she was. But he couldn't help but think that the re-emergence of her sense of humour was a sign that everything was going to be okay.

She had turned to look at him and they smiled tenderly at one another. He'd pushed her hair away from her face and rested his forehead against hers and pressed a tender kiss to the tip of her nose. And they had sat there like that, their faces mere centimetres apart and their eyes closed and their faith and hope strong. Trying to ward off the negative thoughts and focus only on the positive.

"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Flack," Doctor Fraser had said, after the tech had announced the scan was complete. The old doctor was good about not giving a rat's ass about whether they were legally married or not. "You're having a baby boy. And he's perfectly healthy. There's nothing out of the ordinary about him. Go home and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy."

And with that, the doctor and his students had left the room and the doubt and uncertainty surrounding the health and the future of their unborn child had been put to rest. At least as far as his own personal well being went. Now the main concern was his mother. Because without her, his life would end and the thought was terrifying.

* * *

Now, as she sat once again in the wheelchair in the relatively empty cafeteria, staring down at that picture in her hands, Sam felt a sense of peace and serenity she'd never felt before. Her fingertips tracing over the features of her unborn son, a soft smile on her lips as his father stood behind her, filling up a coffee cup at the self serve station. She could tell he was tired and knew he hadn't slept well. If he'd even slept at all. And that coffee would be his best friend that day.

"You want anything, baby?" Flack asked, getting her to hold the steaming take out cup as he pushed the wheelchair.

"Just a water," she replied. "It's all I can have."

He journeyed over to a stand up cooler and snagged a bottle of water from one of the shelves.

"And I need a pen." she said, as he sat the water in her lap and pushed her in the direction of the cash register.

"For what?"

She held the picture up. "I want you to write his name on the bottom. His full name. And the date and time. So I can put this in his baby book when we get home."

He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Admiring how positive she was as it drew closer and closer to the operation. He knew she was scared. Hell, he was practically shitting himself at the prospect of what could go wrong. She was showing him that strength came in all different shapes and sizes. And it only made him love her even more.

He paid for their drinks and asked the young cashier to borrow a pen. And standing off to the side, he printed, in large, neat letters the date and time and than the baby's name. His son's name. KIERAN SHAUN DONALD FLACK.

He smiled at the sight of the name written out. Liked the way it rolled off of his tongue when he said it out loud. Finally attributing a name to the life he had helped create made it all so real. So permanent. And so damn frightening.

He handed the cashier her pen and held the picture out for Sam to see.

"Good?" he asked.

She tilted her head back and smiled brightly at him. "It's perfect." she replied.

He kissed her lips softly. Pecked her forehead. "I should get the two of you upstairs." he said. "In case your nurse sends out the search party for you."

"Not yet." Sam said. "I don't want to go back yet. All I can do up there is lie in bed and watch that stupid television that gets the worst possible channels.

"You're suppose to be lying in bed." Flack reminded her. "You're sick, remember? Rest is the best thing for you. And for Kieran."

She beamed at the sound of him saying their son's name. "It's a nice name," she commented.

"It is. And I know we couldn't see that great and he's still pretty tiny, but you can just tell he's going to be a damn cute baby. Look at all that dark hair. And he's got your nose and chin."

Sam studied the picture as he pushed the chair out of the cafeteria. "I don't know," she said. "I think he has your nose and chin. And he definitely has your ears."

"Poor kid." Flack said with a grin.

"I happen to find you very handsome." she informed him. "And I hope he looks just like you. From top to tail."

Flack chuckled. "Top to tail?" he asked.

"It's an expression my grandma used when she used to toss me and Adam in the bath. She used to say how she was going to get us clean from top to tail."

"Same grandma who used to have that rocking chair?"

"You remember me telling you that?"

"I have a lot of info stored away in the back of my brain. I keep it there in case I ever need to use it. And I remember you telling me at the therapist's office about the rocking chair and how you wanted one just like it. We can do that when you get out of here. Or at least I can. Take that picture from that book you have and go to that store and get it for you."

"You don't have to." Sam said.

"Well I want to. And maybe I like doing nice things for you every now and than. I'm not always a prick you know."

"I know," she said, and looked down at that picture in her hands. "And I'm sorry about last night. Leaving like I did. If I hadn't have gotten so upset, none of this would be happening."

"This was going to happen regardless, baby. You heard the doctor. It was inevitable with the condition you had. Mind you, the stress probably just helped it along."

"I'm sorry," she said sadly. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I put me and the baby in jeopardy and I feel horrible about it."

"Sam, it wasn't your fault. You're sick. And you're in the best possible place getting the best possible care and that's what's important. I don't want to talk about last night. I don't want to talk about Max or Daria or any of the bullshit that went down. I just want us to concentrate on getting you better and out of here. And into the new apartment. You're gonna get out of here and we're going to go to the new place and get you all set up in the bedroom stuff that I bought us."

"You bought us new bedroom stuff?" she asked in surprise. "When?"

"I ordered it on line the other night while you were sleeping. Queen size sleigh bed like you said you liked. Couple dressers. Armoire. Nightstands. The whole nine. And a big old pillow top mattress that is going to be heaven to sleep on."

She laughed. "I hope it is. 'Cause that old mattress of yours was getting a bit much. All those springs that popped when you rolled over a certain way. Never mind the ones sticking you in the ass."

"It's a mess." he agreed. "But it's been damn loyal and dependable. Especially to me and you. I think that's the most action it has ever seen. From the time we got together until yesterday. We wore the thing out."

"And it helped us create a baby." she added.

"Something tells me my swimmers played a bigger role than the mattress. Where to?"

"I just want to sit in the sun for a while. Get some fresh air. Is that okay?"

"I'm the chauffeur aren't I? You give me directions and I'll get you there in one piece."

She grinned. "I know what a bad driver you are, Don."

"What?" he gasped dramatically, a hand over his heart. "You hurt me, Sam. You cut me deep. I'm one of the best drivers in the entire department. Scored damn near perfect on my defensive driving refresher test last month. If it wasn't for that damn pylon…."

"Yeah, I bet it just jumped out at you. Thank God it wasn't a pedestrian. Or an animal."

"I am going to start making it a practice to purposefully try and run over pigeons when I see them in the street."

She frowned. "That's mean."

"Too many damn flying rats if you ask me. That's all they are. Did I ever tell you about the case Mac, Danny and I were working on where the racing pigeons literally fell out of the sky?"

She shook her head. "What was it? Bird flu or something?"

"Danny said the same thing. It was poison. It was in the feed."

"Tampering?"

"Murderer put it in the feed."

"Who'd he murder? The pigeons?"

"No. The owner of the pigeons. Who also happened to be in the witness protection program."

"I am so confused." she sighed. "Who killed the pigeons?"

"The murderer." Flack said simply, stepping out of the main doors of the hospital and into the soft, cool breeze and the bright sunlight.

"But who was the murderer?" she inquired.

"The guy who poisoned the pigeons." he replied, egging her own, enjoying how flustered she was getting.

"Jesus, whose on first?" she grumbled. "Who killed the owner of the pigeons?" she nearly snapped.

"Same guy who poisoned them."

She slapped a hand to her forehead. "Don," she said exasperatedly. "In proper English, please. Not little riddles."

"From the top, this guy Ray Seeley, aka Rudy Santangelo. He was in witness protection and was living in an apartment in Tribeca and raising and breeding and racing pigeons. Got it so far?"

"Don't be such a smart ass," she laughed.

* * *

He parked her by the side of a bench and sat down alongside of her. "One day, these pigeons just fell out of the sky. Taking a base jumper with them and sending him to a rather painful and unexpected demise. Pigeons had bands on their legs identifying them as racing birds and we were able to trace them back to this Seeley guy."

"And?"

"And turns out this Seeley guy was dead and coup was nearly destroyed and testing showed the feed had been tainted with termite poison."

"Who would do that?"

"We thought it was this young guy Jesse that worked for Seeley helping take care of the flying rats. Seeley was going to sell his flock and we assumed it pissed Jesse off enough to kill him."

She sipped her water. "But it wasn't him?"

Flack swallowed some coffee and shook his head. "It was Jesse's step dad. To make a long story short, he was ticked that his kid was spending all this time with Seeley and not helping out at the family business. Step dad had been abusing the kid for quite a while too."

Sam sighed and shook her head at that piece of information.

"You shouldn't seen Mac in interrogation. He was ready to kill the guy. Even told him he'd love nothing more than five minutes alone with him. And you know, I was tempted to walk out and lock the door and let Mac just go all Marine on the bastard."

"Hmm…" Sam said and turned contemplative, her eyes closed, basking in the cool breeze, the sunlight causing the natural red highlights in her hair to sparkle. "You know," she said at long last, opening her eyes and looking at Flack, a small smile on her lips. "Mac's kinda sexy when he goes all Marine like that."

Flack nearly spit out his coffee. "Excuse me?" he asked, laughing. "Please tell me that you did not just say that."

"Sorry." she giggled, reaching out and laying her hand on his thigh. "I mean, I love you and all that and you satisfy my cop fetish perfectly. But Mac has his moments."

Flack grimaced. "He's your boss."

"I am just making an observation as a red blooded female. He's a rather attractive man."

"So if I hadn't have been into you, you woulda tried with Mac?" Flack asked.

"I never said that. I'd never poach him from Stell. No. If you and I hadn't have worked out, I probably would have victimized Hawkes next."

Flack shook his head at the thought. "You are a cruel, evil woman. He wouldn't know how to deal with you. You would have sent him to the nut house a long time ago."

"You already have one foot in the door yourself." she teased.

"Wouldn't trade all your drama and craziness for anything in the world." he said, and picking up her hand, pressed a kiss to the top of it.

She smiled and closed her eyes once again and tipped her head back. Letting the warm rays of the sun bathe her tired, weary face.

"We should get you guys back upstairs." Flack said and tossed his coffee cup into a nearby trash can.

"Why was that Seeley guy in witness protection?" Sam asked suddenly, her golden eyes fixed on him.

"What made you think of that now?"

She shrugged. "An after thought I guess."

"He saw two members of the IRA kill a cop friend of his and the cop's dog." Flack told her. "He testified against them in court and was given new name, new identity. Turns out, in the end, the same IRA guys were from the Wilder Gang."

Sam frowned. "The group you busted up? The big drug raid that you did? When Adam and Danny got taken hostage and the crime lab was taken over?"

Flack nodded.

"Aren't you scared, Donnie? That they might come after you? I'm sure that they have family out there somewhere. Aren't you afraid they might decide to exact their revenge?"

"It never occurred to me to be afraid." he admitted. "If they had family in New York still and they wanted revenge that bad, trust me, I'd be dead already."

"But do you think they're a legitimate threat?" she asked. She sounded terrified at the thought and a protective hand went to her stomach. "I mean it's not just you anymore. It's me and the baby, too. Do you think they could come after us? As a family?"

She accepted, as part of the job, that he had put a lot of bad people away that had deserved it. And that the list was probably endless of perps that would love to get even with him for doing them wrong. But it was the first time that she felt that threatened by anything.

"The Wilder gang went underground after Mac killed the kingpin." Flack told her, holding her hand tightly, hoping she heard the reassurance and confidence in his voice and saw it in his eyes. "They don't have the resources to be a legitimate threat. Maybe ten years from now but certainly not now."

She nodded slowly, considering his words.

"If I thought they were a threat to you or the baby, I wouldn't be sitting around waiting for something to happen. I'd be making damn sure that they never came near you or Kieran. I sure as hell wouldn't sit back and let them hurt either of you. I'd stop it before it even had a chance to happen. You know that don't you?"

"I do….it's just…scary."

"There's nothing to be scared about. You and the baby aren't in danger from them. Okay?"

"But what about you?" she asked. "Are you?"

"Not that I know of. I have a massive list of enemies, Sam. People that would love to get a piece of me for fucking them over. I don't sit around and dwell on it. I just got on with my life and that's that. But if I ever thought you or the baby were in harm's way, trust me, I'd do something about it."

She smiled at last. Her nose and eyes crinkling. "You'd never let anything happen to us." she stated.

"Never. You just have to trust me to do the right thing if any shit ever goes down. Can you do that? Trust me?"

"You're one of the few people I do trust." she said.

He leaned across the bench and kissed her softly. "Let's not worry about stuff like the Wilder Gang and bullshit like that. Let's just worry about getting you better and the hell out of here. All right?"

"Sounds good to me." she said. "You know what else I am looking forward to?" she asked, as he stood and went to the back of the wheelchair.

"What's that?" he asked in response.

"Food. And lots of it. As soon as I am out of here, I am having the biggest chocolate sundae I can find and a double Big Mac and extra large fries."

"You're going to poison my kid eating that crap." he laughed.

"I am soooo hungry." she declared.

"Me too. Just not for food."

She giggled. "You have a one track mind, my dear." she said.

"At this point in time, Sam, thinking like that is the only thing keeping me sane." he said. "Well, that and looking at that picture you're holding there."

She looked down at the picture in her hand. "We're very lucky, you know. That we were able to have a baby. Some women don't get that chance. I just hope we do right by him."

"We will." he assured her.

"I don't want to let him down."

"You won't. He loves you already. You're his mommy. Boys always love their mommies. There's nothing you could say or do, even when he's older, that would make him stop loving you. Short of dropping off the face of the earth that is."

"Think he'd forget me if something was to ever happen? If he was a little older and something God forbid, took me away from him? Do you think he'd hate me and forget me?"

"Not in a million years." Flack told her.

Sam sighed and clutched that picture to her chest. And prayed nothing would ever take her from that little boy she already loved and cherished more than anything in the world.

* * *

"We thought the two of you had up and disappeared on us." Gus said in way of greeting, as Flack and Sam returned to their room. The blond was perched on the foot of the bed, while Adam neatly arranged a large arrangement of colourful mixed flowers on the window ledge.

"We had our ultrasound appointment and than Don let me out into the sunlight and let me breathe fresh air." Sam said, as Gus slid of the bed and leaned over to hug her tightly and kiss both her cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" Gus asked, holding the wheel chair still as Flack helped Sam out of it and carefully and gently aided her in getting back into bed. She was somewhat taken aback by the tenderness and patience in which he handled his pregnant, ailing wife. It was a side to Don Flack no one ever saw, let only knew existed.

"Much better today." Sam replied. "But just going for a little stroll is enough to tire me right out."

"Why are you so tired?" Flack teased, tucking her blankets around her. "I'm the one that did all the work."

"You're a big, strong guy." Sam said, smiling up at him. "You can handle it."

Adam came to the bed and hugged and kissed his sister. "You look so much better." he told her. "I was terrified, Sammie. That something bad was going to happen to you or the baby."

"You did a good job, Peanut." she assured him. "You handled it perfectly."

"I just didn't want anything happening to you or my nephew," he said, fighting emotion.

Sam laid a hand on the side of her younger brother's face. "You couldn't have handled things better. You did amazing. I'm proud of you. And so is Don. Although I'm sure at some point last night he put the fear of God into you at least once."

"Once or twice." Adam admitted. "What did the doctor say?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Did they check for things? Did they see anything?"

"They told us to go home and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy." Flack said, slipping into the bedside chair.

"And?" Adam pressed.

"They didn't find anything wrong with the baby that suggested there was a problem." Sam told her brother and Gus, who both let out large sighs of relief at the news. "And, we came back with pictures." she held the photo out to her brother.

Adam studied the picture in his hands closely as Gus got up from the end of the bed to peer over his shoulder. "Wow," he breathed, nodding his head slowly. "Look at that, Gussie….it's amazing….can you believe that? You can see the entire face. He's beautiful."

"Like his mother." Gus declared, pecking his cheek. "Thank God. 'Cause if he looked like his father…"

"Easy, Broussard." Flack said. "That kid's gonna be damn good looking. My hair and my eyes? He's going to be popular with all the ladies."

"Hope he has some of your modesty, too." she snorted. "Congratulations, guys. It's about time some good news rolled your way. Adam and I have some of our own, actually. Two pieces of good news in fact."

Adam nodded in agreement. "First order of business is that the results came in for your blood work. Your triple screen came back negative. No sign of anything wrong. Which, put together with what the radiologist said about the ultrasound, just confirms you guys have nothing to worry about."

"And the second thing?" Flack asked. "Don't tell me you guys won power ball. 'Cause if ya did, someone will be fishing you guys out of the East River and I'll be hundreds of millions richer."

"Wouldn't it just be easier to ask us for some of the cash?" Adam asked.

"Would you give me some?" Flack retorted.

Adam grinned. "I'd think about it."

Flack smirked. "East River, Ross. No one will ever find you and I'll be living in a penthouse and driving a Bentley."

"You wanted that you should have just hooked up with Devon and not my sister." Adam told him jokingly.

Sam gagged on her sip of water and spit it out all over herself. The unexpected, brash comment catching everyone off guard. She looked over at Flack, who sat glaring at his future brother in law, not knowing whether to laugh or put him through a wall. The look on his face causing Sam to burst into hysterical laughter for a second time that day.

Flack looked at her, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I'm sorry," Sam managed through her gagging and sputtering. "But that was funny. Very good comeback, Adam."

"I learned from the best." he said, using a handful of Kleenex to gently clean her face and neck of the water she'd spat out.

"So what's this news?" Flack asked. "Cause I could use a couple mill right about now."

"Sorry." Gus responded. "No such luck. But I assure that it's just as exciting and unexpected."

"Better be damn good." Flack said. "Guess I can't imagine anything that's more exciting and unexpected than finding out you just won millions."

"Gussie and I are getting married." Adam announced abruptly.

Both Sam and Flack sat, dumbfounded, looking back and forth between the couple as they perched on the edge of the bed beaming.

"You serious?" Flack asked. "'Cause that isn't something to be joking around about. Announcements like that give people heart attacks. Look at what happened when Sarge found out your sister and I were getting married. He nearly had a stroke."

"That's because he hates you, Flack." Gus said in all seriousness. "And, even though we've only conversed over the phone, he absolutely loves me."

"You can have him all to yourself." Flack assured her. "If it keeps him out of my hair, you can have him."

"What did you expect?" Gus asked the detective. "You impregnated his baby girl with your demon seed."

"So are you guys serious?" Sam inquired, a bright smile spreading across her face.

Adam nodded.

Sam stretched out her arms to her brother and he moved closer to her, letting her draw her into her warm embrace. They hugged each other tightly as Flack hugged and congratulated Gus.

"I am so happy for you, peanut." Sam said, holding his face in her hands. "I told you that one day this would happen. You'd meet someone beautiful and incredible that would take your breath away and love you for you. And you guys will be so happy and have babies and…"

"Slow your row there," Gus laughed, leaning over the bed to hug her future sister in law. "Babies are light years away. We haven't even discussed something like that. But we agreed, when the time feels right, we might dabble in some baby making from time to time."

"Speaking of babies," Sam said with a slight frown and leaned back in the bed, her hand finding her stomach. "Mine has decided now is the opportune time for back flips."

Flack checked his watch. An hour to go before pre-op. "You need to take some of your other meds now," he reminded her gently, nodding to the prescription bottles on the bedside table.

"I'll get you some more ice water," Gus offered, standing up.

"Don't worry about it," Flack told her. "I'll get it. You stay here and visit and I'll be right back with it."

He got up, grabbed the empty cup and headed out into the hall. There was a patient/family lounge area where the ice bin was located, along with fending machines full of pop and junk food. A fridge and microwave for those who brought food from home and needed to store and heat it.

He filled the Styrofoam with ice and poured in some water from a jug in the fridge and headed out. He'd barely gotten a foot out in the door when two familiar voices drifted down from the other end of the hall.

Jesus Christ, he thought as the two men approached, feeling anger and disgust rising in his body. They had no right to be there. Not a time like that, to discuss what they were no doubt hell bent on discussing. Their presence there was unwelcome and unappreciated. And if they thought that he'd just sit back and let them walk in and cause shit, they had another thing coming.

"Detective Flack," the one greeted in a strictly business tone. "Can we have a moment please?"

He was tempted to tell them to fuck off and have them escorted out if they didn't leave. Instead, he played and cool. For the sake of his career.

"I can do that." he said, and gestured towards the empty lounge.

* * *

Flack saw his unexpected guests to the lounge and went to the nurses station. He requested that the nurse overseeing Sam's care take her the cup of water and to make sure she took her proper meds. And to give her a message that he had some brief business to attend to. When he arrived back at the small, quaint lounge, the door was closed tight to keep out others and Gerrard and Sinclair were pouring themselves coffee from a freshly brewed pot that sat on the counter. Most likely prepared by another patient or a family member. Not that that mattered to them.

"Detective Flack," Sinclair said with a nod as the young detective entered and shut the door behind him.

"Chief," Flack said in return, shaking Sinclair's hand. "Inspector," he turned to the grey haired gentleman and offered his hand.

Gerrard shook the hand outstretched to him. "We were hoping we could have a quick word with you, Flack."

"With all due respect, sir, this isn't the time or the place. My wife's going in for a pre-op in less than an hour. Her surgery is scheduled for three thirty. Frankly, I'm not in the mood to discuss work."

"It will only take a few minutes." Sinclair assured him, handing Flack a mug of coffee before gesturing towards one of the chairs at the nearby table.

Flack sighed and accepted the coffee and slipped into one of the chairs. Gerrard and Sinclair sat down as well, flanking him on either side. Making him feel as if he was preparing for an interrogation.

"Inspector Gerrard and I wanted to come by and see how everyone was." Sinclair said. "When I got to my office this morning, the Inspector informed me he received a call from Detective Taylor stating that your wife was in the hospital. I hope everything and everyone, is well."

Flack knew damn well that the brass wasn't there out of simple concern for his wife and unborn child. They were there to make themselves look good and regain respect among those that served below them and attempt to boost the rapidly sinking employee morale.

But if they wanted to play departmental games, than he was ready, willing and able. Whatever it took to get out of the IAB mess and onto that promotion grid.

"She's doing better," Flack told the two men. "The baby's fine and healthy and once she gets this operation, hopefully things will look up."

"It's never easy on a woman bringing a child into this world," Gerrard said. "My wife had complications herself. Being with child and giving birth are two purely unselfish acts in my opinion."

"I'm glad to hear that things are looking up." Sinclair added.

"But that's not the entire reason the two of you are here, is it." Flack stated.

Gerrard and Sinclair looked at each other.

"There are a few things we'd like to talk to you about," Gerrard conceded.

Flack smirked behind his coffee mug. Always an ulterior motive, he thought.

"Brendan Doyle's funeral is on Friday," Sinclair told him. "Full department honours."

Flack nodded. "That's only right…"

"We just thought you'd like to know." Gerrard said. "He was one of your guys. You're not expected to make it. Considering the circumstances surrounding your wife and child, we'll gladly pass along your condolences to his wife and explain your absence."

"I'll be there." Flack told his boss.

"You're going through a hell of a thing right now," Sinclair said. "It's completely understandable if you don't attend. Your wife needs you."

"I'll be there," Flack insisted. "She has lots of people that will come and stay with her until I get back from a funeral. She'll understand that I need to be there."

Sinclair nodded slowly. "That's your choice, Flack. It's St Michael's on West 23rd and Lincoln. Service begins at one."

"That's fine." Flack said and swallowed steaming coffee. Cringing at the horrible taste.

"You can start back to work on Monday." Gerrard told him.

Flack arched an eyebrow. "I thought I had to go and talk to a department lawyer and IAB first."

"IAB dropped their investigation," Sinclair replied. "No one is willing to talk to them on record about what happened during that raid. Your men, ATF, DHS… they all say the same thing. All they saw was the perp sitting on your chest with a gun in his hand and you overpowering him. After that, nothing."

Flack knew that was bullshit. Anyone with two eyes saw exactly what had happened. He had thought that after the Dean Truby mess, half of those guys, if not more, would be more than willing to sell him out. Pay back for ratting Truby out. So he was surprised to get the goods from Sinclair. And he sure as hell wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You dodged a huge bullet, Flack," Gerrard said. "You know that, don't you?"

He nodded and stared at the dark liquid in his cup.

"You were up shit creek without a paddle," Sinclair informed him. "If those men had have told IAB the truth, I'd be coming here for your badge and you'd be cooling your heels down in Central Booking. You realize all that, Detective Flack?"

"I realize I fucked up," he said.

"Huge," Sinclair told him. "But your men had your back and I'm sure, if the time ever comes, you'll return the favour."

Flack smirked. "You mean if another cop steals drugs from a raid and sells them on the street and kills an innocent kid I'll just let it slip. 'Cause he's a cop and cops don't rat on other cops."

"This has nothing to do with Dean Truby," Gerrard argued. "You're overreacting, Flack."

"Come on," the detective laughed dryly. "You've been holding it over my head since the day it happened. And I know the unspoken code. Cops don't sqeaul on each other. You used to do it. When my mom used to call 'cause my dad was knocking the shit out of her and me and my brother. And what happened? Nothing. Because no one wanted to piss on my dad's great name."

"It wasn't that simple, Flack," Gerrard said. "You make it seem like it was as simple and black and white."

"It should have been. He should have had his ass locked up like any sonofabitch who kicks the crap out of a woman and kids. Instead, you and the uniforms just walked away and left him there. Left us there. 'Cause we all know Don Flack Sr isn't capable of being a complete prick."

"Your father is a legend in the department," Gerrard reminded the younger man. "And you're just starting to come into your own."

"Just starting to come out of his shadow, you mean. That is what you mean, right, sir? That I'm just starting to get out from under my father. And that I'm not doing a very good job at living up to his name."

"Jesus Christ, Flack, I never said that," the inspector argued. "You have some real hang ups, you know that? Daddy issues."

"To go with my damsel in distress complex," Flack snorted.

"Gentlemen, we are getting way off topic," Sinclair held his hands up defensively. "The bottom line is that you're damn lucky to have your badge. End of story. Now what was message you left me yesterday evening? About wanting a new partner? What was that all about?"

Flack sighed. "I can't work with Emma Maxwell. It's impossible. She's causing me a great deal of stress at home. And if I'm stressed and on edge at home, than that transfers over to my job and I can't bring my A game under circumstances like that."

"And how is she causing this great deal of stress?" Gerrard inquired.

"Max and I….we had somewhat of a thing when she was a uniform. Nothing serious. At least not to me. And I guess she hasn't been able to let that go and she's been causing grief for Sam and with Sam being a high risk pregnancy, I can't function properly at work knowing the problems me working with Max is causing. My wife and my son are the most important things in the world to me."

Sinclair nodded in understanding. "The last thing this department needs is you being on edge. You're one of the very few bright lights in the NYPD and we need you bringing your best each and every time you put on that badge and gun."

"Is there something you're not telling us, Flack?" Gerrard asked. "The night you called dispatch and wanted Maxwell yanked off that stake out. You said it was because she wasn't feeling well. Is there more to it than that?"

Flack didn't respond. He was mentally weighing his options. The more honest he was, the quicker he shed Max. But on the other hand, too much honesty might make him look, in Gerrard and Sinclair's eyes, that he was a cop that got off on tattling on his colleagues. His marriage and his relationship with his unborn child needed him to be honest. And it was only for Sam and Kieran that he decided his best course of action was to tell the truth.

And so he did. He told his superiors exactly what had gone down that night. They listened intently and did little more than nod or shake their heads. Both men knew he was struggling with telling them about the incident. But they respected him for doing it and were impressed at how much he'd matured. And how seriously he was taking his job and his family.

When Flack finished recounting the tale, he let out a long shaky breath and ran a hand over his weary face.

"On Monday you'll be partnered with another detective," Sinclair told him. His voice calm, but his eyes blazing with anger.

"I don't see a reason why I can't put you with Scagnetti," Gerrard added. "You both are damn good and have great individual numbers of solved cases. You two should make a hell of a team."

"And Max?" Flack asked.

"I will be talking to Detective Maxwell," Sinclair replied. "You can rest assured of that."

Flack knew, by that look in the Chief's eyes, that that was not a conversation he wished to be part of.

A knock came to the lounge door and the three men glanced over as a young, fresh faced nurse poked her head in.

"Mr Flack?" she spoke in a quiet, apologetic voice. "We're ready to take your wife down to pre-op now."

"Thanks," he said and stood up. "I really have to go," he told his superiors.

"Completely understandable," Sinclair said, as he and Gerrard rose as well. He offered Flack his hand. "I hope you'll let us know how things went."

Flack nodded and shook both men's hands before heading from the room.

Gerrard sighed heavily and looked over at the tall, broad African American man beside him. "What are you thinking?" he asked, as Sinclair's dark eyes rested on the empty doorway.

"I want that kid put on the promotion grid and in for an exam ASAP," Sinclair replied.

Gerrard nodded, agreeing with the decision.

"I want Donald Flack Jr a sargeant by the end of the year."

* * *

Pre-op was finished in less than an hour and they waited for the scheduled appointment in a small, claustrophobic treatment room off of the OR. Neither of them spoke. Flack didn't mention the meeting with Gerrard and Sinclair. When she'd questioned where he'd been, he'd said that he had had some business to take care of regarding her benefits and coverage. She had looked at him sceptically but didn't ask if he was telling the truth or not. All that mattered to her at that point in time, was that he was there and she wasn't going to be alone.

They were scared. Terrified, in fact. The surgeon had come to discuss the possible risks once more and to ask both of them to fill out a form that absolved the hospital of any responsibility is something went wrong and they lost the baby. Or her. Or both. The thought made Flack sick to his stomach and he signed his name with a trembling hand before excusing himself to go and vomit in the bathroom. He'd never felt that kind of paralysing fear. Even after the bombing or the day before during the raid when he had gun held to his head and the trigger pulled. He realized than that he was prepared to give up everything for his small family.

Even in his life.

At three o'clock, an operation room nurse came to announce that the OR was prepped and read and it was time to go down. One nurse took Sam inside first and directed Flack to a change room to put on a set of scrubs, slippers to cover his feet and a surgical cap over his head. He'd never heard of someone being allowed to go into the OR with a loved one until his sister in law had been allowed to sit with Lucie until she went under for her tonsillectomy. He wasn't too thrilled about the idea. Hospitals scared the shit out of him and the thought of being in the OR gave him the creeps. But he figured it was good practice if she ever needed a c-section.

Sam was flat on her back on the table, covered to the chin with a surgical blanket. Oxygen tubes in her nostrils and hooked up to an IV and EKG machine. A cap on her head and her eyes on the ceiling when Flack was escorted in. She glanced over and offered a brave smile and looked him up and down. The pants were five inches too short and she couldn't help but let out a small giggle.

"Where's the flood?" she asked,

"You're cute," he replied with a grin and sat down on a stool on her left hand side.

"Yes," she said. "I am."

Flack grinned and picked up her left hand in both of his. He noticed her engagement ring was gone.

A nurse held up a small baggy when she saw the concerned look on his face. "Before you can leave you can take it with you. I put her necklace in her as well. And we had to remove both the tongue and navel rings. Safety issue."

"Boy that must have pissed you off," Flack said to Sam.

"Just a bit. But they're going back in as soon as I am out of here."

He kissed her hand. Noticed that she was trembling. He leaned forward and placed his forehead against the side of her head. "Don't be scared," he whispered. "Everything's going to be okay."

She nodded. Tears welled in her eyes.

"I'll be right here until you fall asleep," he assured her. "And I'll be there when you wake up. Okay?"

"Okay," she said in tiny voice. Struggling to keep herself from breaking down.

He pressed a feathery kiss to the corner of her lips. "I love you," he said. "And I promise you I won't leave you."

"I love you, too," she told him. "And if this doesn't work…"

"Shhh…it will. Everything is going to turn out just fine. It's going to work and in four and a half months, we just may be back in this room under different circumstances when Kieran is born."

She smiled at that.

The surgeon entered, followed by the anesthesiologist. No words were spoken. The surgeon simply checked that all his instruments were in order as the other specialist brought over the gas.

Sam's eyes widened in fear at the sight of the mask coming down over her face and she turned her head to the side in protest.

"It's okay," Flack spoke soothingly to her. "It's going to take less than a minute. Just relax, baby. I'm right here."

"A lot of people get scared at this point," the nurse said understandingly, and gently held Sam's face in her hands and turned her head upwards so the mask could be laid over her nose and mouth.

It seemed to take less than thirty seconds. Her arms went limp and her hand slipped from his and her eyes fluttered closed.

"Heart rate and pulse are strong," the nurse announced, casting a glance at the monitors.

The first nurse that had escorted Flack inside -they all looked the same in their scrubs and masks- came and laid a hand on his back.

"She's asleep now," she told him, handing him the small bag of jewellry. "She's in good hands. You can give her a kiss goodbye if you want."

The sound of the word goodbye tore at his heart. He stood up and leaned over the table and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Than he silently left the OR and went into the change room. He sat down on one of the cold wooden benches and felt emotionally drained.

Yet the tears flowed easily. Large, hot tears that burned his skin and cleansed his soul.

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you!**


	86. A New Day Has Come

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND KIERAN FLACK**

**A/N: BLUEHAVEN 4220, MAX'S CREATOR, HAS ASKED ME TO WRITE MAX OUT OF MOB. I AGREED AND UNDERSTAND HER WISHES AND I WILL INCLUDE A SMALL PART OF MAX IN A FUTURE CHAPTER, BUT THIS IS IT FOR HER AND DARIA ON A LARGE SCALE. WHILE I AGREED TO WRITE THE CHARACTER OUT, I HAVE DONE IT ON MY TERMS AS THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY. **

**A New Day Has Come**

"It was like falling deep in love  
I heard the angels cry above  
I felt a blessing straight from God  
The day that you gave me a son  
I called 'bout everyone I knew  
Just think, I'll be a father 'cause of you  
There's no greater love than what you gave  
A brand new baby on the way  
Oh such tears of joy, I've never known  
I can't remember  
It's like a song, I've never heard  
I've never sung, but know the words."  
-The Day You Gave Me A Son, Babyface

* * *

Flack checked his watch. The operation was taking longer than expected. A half an hour had passed from the time he'd changed back into his own clothes and took a seat in the crowded OR waiting room. The night before the doctor had told him that the procedure should only take a few minutes barring that everything went okay. And the longer the waiting stretched on, the more and more nervous and frightened he became. With each minute that ticked by, a small piece of his nerves disappeared with the time.

Something had to have gone wrong. It was the only reason that an operation that should only take a minuscule amount of time surpassed the thirty minute mark. He couldn't concentrate on a magazine and had no interest in the soap opera that was playing on the television in the far corner of the room. He didn't want to surf the web on his phone and he sure as hell didn't feel like delving into mindless chit chat with the strangers around him. Some people became talkative when they were nervous. Most of those seemed to be in that one room at the same time as Flack, who preferred to just be quiet and shake his legs uncontrollably and bite his nails.

The nail biting thing had just started recently. He'd never done it a day in his life, but living with someone who bit their own nails to the quick, nerves or no nerves, had been his downfall. Last week he'd caught himself chewing on his thumb nail while simply watching TV. Now he was addicted and couldn't break the habit no matter how hard he tried.

He was dying for a smoke. And a stiff drink. He would resist the latter, but it was taking all his will power not to run across the street and buy a pack of cigarettes and have a handful finished before he stepped back into the hospital. And he would have gone ahead and took off for the store had he not be certain that the minute he stepped out the door, someone would be looking for him to either tell him the operation was over and a success, or that things had royally fucked up.

He prayed it wasn't the latter. Because if it was bad news, there was no way he'd be able to stop himself from heading into a liquor store for a twenty sixer of rye and guzzling it down. Hell, he'd probably buy two or three and spend a week in a booze fuelled stupor. He was weak. Samantha and the baby were his two main weaknesses. They'd be the death of him, he was pretty sure of that. Especially when the kid was sixteen and dating girls and wanting a driver's license and a new car.

Thinking of the future made Flack smile to himself. All the things that he wanted to do with his son. Teach him how to skate and play hockey and how to ride a bike. See him off on his first day of school and than follow the school bus just to make sure his baby got there okay. Give him the talk about girls and the facts of life. See him graduate from high school and university. Watch him get married and have his own family. It seemed silly to think about things way in the future. But those dreams and wants were the only things keeping him sane at the moment.

He looked down at his watch again. Forty minutes had passed. He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs and closed his eyes.

"Need your beauty sleep, huh?" A familiar voice said from in front of him.

Flack cracked open an eye in time to see Danny Messer, two cups of coffee in hand, dropping into the chair alongside of him.

"Here," Danny said, holding out one of the cups. "Wish I could tell ya that there was some Bailey's in there, but no such luck."

"Thanks," Flack sat up and took the beverage from his best friend. He took a sip. It was rich and steaming hot and tasted damn good. Better than that sludge he'd had earlier when meeting with Gerrard and Sinclair.

"You guys get into the OR late or something?" Danny asked. "I went up to Sam's room with a bag of stuff with you guys and the nurse told me you were still down here."

"We got in there on time. It's just taking longer than the few minutes the doctor said it would."

"Things never run smoothly when it comes to anything medical," Danny reasoned, sensing his best friend's nervousness and fright. Flack needed someone to be optimistic and it was up to Danny to be that someone. He knew Flack would do the same for him if the situations were reversed. "No one's come by and said anything?"

Flack shook his head.

"I'm sure everything's fine. Maybe there was a glitch with the equipment or something and it's taking longer to get down than they originally thought. Could be a number of things."

"I know. That's what scares me."

Danny had never heard his friend admit he was scared in all the years they'd known each other and hung out and worked together. Even after the bombing and he'd been released from the hospital and the pain and agony from the rehab seemed enough to nearly break him some days. Flack had never come right out and said he was afraid. He'd always been the strong, dependable one. But than, he'd also never had anyone but himself to worry about either.

"I'm sure it's all good," Danny said, and reached out to rub the detective's shoulder comfortingly.

Flack appreciated the simple words and that one touch and show of support more than he could ever tell Danny. And he probably would never tell him. Unless Danny was the one to bring that moment up somewhere down the road. Because Flack just didn't do that. Talk about his feelings and his worries. He was just too damn proud and tough for that. Stubborn. His father had long ago told him that real men didn't show their feelings or talk about them. And they certainly didn't cry.

He wondered what his old man would say if he knew about the breakdown his older son had had sitting on that cold wooden bench in the OR change room.

"Got everything you wanted," Danny told him. "Brought Sam some stuff too. Pyjamas, a pillow. That blanket from the back of the couch she's also curled up in when I come over. Toothbrush and personal crap like that. I know how anal she is about her teeth looking good."

Flack grinned. "Obsessive is more like it. But she says her mom and Sarge paid too much money to make them look like that to be letting her teeth fall out of her head."

"Gotta say though, going through Brooklyn's drawer with her pyjamas in it was kind of weird," Danny said.

"Why's that?"

"You could have warned me she had her pyjamas in with her underwear. There's something not right about shifting through your best friend's wife's panties and bras. Mind you, she does have some ones in there I wouldn't mind seeing on Erica. Those black lacy thong things with the little pink bows."

"What were you doing, Messer? Checking out each pair?"

"Stuff like that is hard to miss," Danny reasoned. "You're lucky man, Flack. Getting to see her in stuff like that."

"Please. When I get to her after work, she's in flannel bottoms and one of my shirts. She's long changed out of her sexy stuff. And I'm telling you right now Messer, if the next time we're in the change room at work I see you wearing my wife's underwear, you're a dead man."

"Better find a way to put back the frilly little pink pair I lifted," Danny said with a straight face, taking a swig of his coffee.

Flack laughed. "You are one sick, twisted bastard, Messer."

"Better to wear 'em than smell 'em or sleep with 'em or something," Danny reasoned. "And I bet ya lots of guys wear women's undergarments. You remember Bull Durham don't you? Susan Sarandon told Tim Robbins to wear his panties so he'd keep focused on his game."

"That was a movie," Flack reminded his friend.

"Hell, shit like that goes on in in real life too. Like that case you had with Stella and Hawkes. The tranny found dead in the toilet in the ladies restroom. I saw the pictures. He made a hell of a good looking woman."

Flack frowned and turned sideways in his chair to study his friend. "Are you hinting at something here Messer? Like maybe you get off on wearing women's clothes? You trying to find a way to tell me you got some secret life you've been keeping from me all this time?"

"Nothing wrong with the feel and look of lace or satin, Flack."

"You just did not say that."

"Get in touch with your feminine side," Danny suggested.

"My feminine side is still masculine enough to knock you out. You're lucky I know you're just joking or you'd be wearing that coffee. Sure, lace or satin feel great. When your girl is wearing it and rubbing up against you or you're peeling it off of her. You're a sick bastard, Danny."

"Just trying to get your mind off of things, Flack. And it worked. Didn't it?"

The detective thought about it and grinned. "Always a method to your madness, isn't there."

"The brain is always working. Even when it looks like it's on permanent hiatus. I got that little paper you asked me to get. I didn't read it or anything. But I gotta admit I'm a little curious."

"It's just something I've been meaning to show Sam. I thought it might cheer her up a bit. And there's another favour I need."

"You're full of 'em today," Danny said, as his friend stood up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

"This is the ATM card for mine and Sam's joint account," Flack told him, holding out the small plastic card. "I need you to go to Tiffany's and pick something up and pay for it for me. It's under my last name. It's just the wedding bands we picked out and needed sized. And grab me some cash. Machine in the lobby here is down. And don't faint when you see the balance."

"What? You that far into the red?" Danny asked, taking the bank card.

"Opposite," Flack replied, sitting back down. "We had a huge deposit just go in."

Danny arched an eyebrow. "How huge is huge? Couple g's?"

"More like two hundred plus," Flack told him quietly.

Danny's eyes widened. "You fucking serious? What the hell? You guys win the lottery or something? How'd you two come up with that kinda green?"

"It's Sam's. She was given some money. How and why isn't the issue right now. When all is said and done and she's out of there and feeling better, we'll tell you all about it."

He gave Danny the four digit pin number. Danny was the only person in the world that Flack would ever trust with that kind of information. His best friend was not the type to clean him out. Flack unfortunately couldn't say the same thing about his own family.

"This got anything to do with Zack's sister showing up here unexpectedly a while ago?" Danny asked.

Flack didn't have a chance to answer. A figure clad in green hospital scrubs and a surgical mask dangling around her neck and cap still on her head appeared in the doorway to the waiting area and scanned the room. He recognized her as the nurse who'd shown him to the operating room earlier.

She spotted him sitting there and smiled warmly. It did little to quell the nervousness taking his stomach hostage.

"Mr Flack?" she asked. "We're finished now. You can come with me to the recovery room."

"I'll go and run that errand for ya and come up to Sam's room when I get back," Danny told him. "You think she'll be okay with me being there?"

"She'll probably be pretty out of it, Dan-o," Flack said, standing up. "But yeah, she'd be okay with it. She knows you're here to support us. Not to be a pain in the ass. Thought you had to work tonight?"

"Called Mac," Danny told him, standing up as well. "Told him I wouldn't be in for a couple days. So that I'm around if you need me. He was all right with it. But I'll be working overtime and doubles and triples for a bit to make up for it."

Flack was touched by his friend's unselfish decision. And even more touched when Danny wrapped his arms around her and embraced him tightly and kissed his cheek.

"It's all good, Flack," he said. "Sam and the baby and all that. Congratulations. You're having yourself a son."

The detective held back tears but embraced his best friend in return. "Thanks," he said when he let Danny go.

"You'd do it for me," Danny said confidently. "Figured you can't be the only one doin' all the supporting around here. Now go, see your wife. Take care of her. That's your job."

"Only one that matters anyway," Flack said, and left the room.

* * *

"Things didn't go exactly the way we planned," the nurse told him, her voice quiet as she laid a hand on Flack's forearm and gently guided him out of the middle of the hallway.

Flack didn't like the sound of that. The knot in his stomach grew even bigger. "But it turned out okay, right?" he asked, desperation in his voice.

"The surgery itself went very well. And there was only some slight bleeding from the procedure. Nothing for us to be concerned about. We did an ultrasound afterwards and the baby is fine."

"But…" Flack pressed.

"Your wife's blood pressure dropped several times and she had an erratic heart rhythm. We called a cardiologist in and he preformed an echo-cardiogram."

He felt sick to his stomach. His hands trembled and his knees felt weak. "And?"

"Were you aware that your wife has a heart murmur?" the nurse asked.

Flack frowned. "A heart murmur? She's never mentioned to me about having a heart murmur. And I've never heard her GP or Doctor Lightheart say anything about it either."

"We checked her medical history and there's nothing in her files that suggest a pre-existing cardiac problem," the nurse told him. "Has she ever complained of feeling light headed or having heart palpitations?"

"I know sometimes when she bends over and gets back up quickly her heart flutters a little. And because of the vertigo she can't get up from lying down to fast or she gets really dizzy. But we just chalked all of that up to her sugar being a bit high or the build up of the fluid in her ears. You know, just stuff that came with her pregnancy. So is this a serious problem?"

"It's just your standard, run of the mill heart murmur," she re-assured him. "There was nothing on the test that showed anything abnormal. And it's quite common for women to develop a heart murmur during pregnancy. And Doctor Lightheart conferred with the anaesthesiologist who believes that a slight reaction to the gas may have caused the murmur to act up during the operation. We were also later coming to get you because she was quite difficult to wake up in recovery. Has she ever had a problem with anaesthetic before?"

"Not that I know of. She's never had an operation and what not since we've been together. I can ask her brother if she has, but I would have thought she'd tell me something like that before the operation was done."

"One would think that would be something she'd share," the nurse agreed.

"But she's okay, right? She's coming around and all that?"

"She's awake but she'll be groggy for a while until the anaesthetic fully wears off. And she'll be kept on IV pain medication for a couple of days."

"Do you know how long she'll be here?"

"You'd have to speak to her doctor. She'll be up to talk to the two of your first thing tomorrow. Everything went very well save for a couple little glitches, Mr Flack. She's stable and the baby is doing well."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "When you said thing didn't go as plan, I get a little worried there for a second. Really worried, actually. I've been expecting the worst so that I'd be ecstatic when good news came back. It's just the way I am. Weird, huh?"

"I've heard stranger," she teased him and rubbed his back. "You can rest easy now. The hardest part is over and now all that's left in front of you both is the healing. And a few months from now, that little baby will grace you with his presence and all of this will seem like a drop in the bucket compared to dirty diapers and sleepless nights."

He smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Let's get you down there to see your wife and the two of you sent back upstairs as soon as possible," the nurse said, a hand on his elbow as she gently steered him down the hall.

* * *

Samantha's eyes were closed. Her chest rising and falling with each steady breath she took. Oxygen tubes still placed in her nostrils, IV and pain medication lines leading from the inside of right forearm to the bags of clear liquid dangling from a hook beside her bed. The catheter had been replaced and an EKG machine monitored her vitals.

The nurse led the way to the side of the bed and leaned over the railing. She laid a hand her patient's thigh and shook lightly.

"Samantha?" she spoke loudly in an attempt to break through the anaesthetic induced fog. "Samantha…it's time to wake up, sweetie…I need you to wake up…"

Sam mumbled incoherently and shook her head.

"Time to wake up. You need to open your eyes now. I know it's hard, but it's the best for you. And you've got a visitor. A handsome, charming policeman has come to see you."

She moaned lightly and rolled her head to the side to face them. Her eyes flickered open slowly. Squinting in the bright lights of the recovery room. She was disoriented and confused. And frightened by her surroundings. And the machines and tubes she was hooked up to. She attempted to sit up, mumbling about having to get out of there, and the nurse gently grasped her by the shoulders and settled her back into the bed.

"You need to stay here, baby," Flack told her, reaching out to smooth her hair away from her face. "You're in the hospital. You just had an operation. Remember?"

She shook her head and reached for his hand. She was seeing triple and her movements and coordination off.

"I'm right here," he told her, grasping her hand and slipping down onto a stool the nurse brought for him.

"Donnie?" she asked groggily.

"Yeah…I'm here, baby. Everything's okay now. You did really good. The doctor said that the operation went well and you and Kieran are doing fine." At the mention of his son's name, he laid his other hand on her stomach.

"Baby?"

"The baby's fine," he assured her. "They did an ultrasound afterwards and he's fine. Now you just need to rest and heal and we can get out of here and go home and wait for him to arrive. Okay?"

She nodded. Her eyes drifted closed and than snapped open again. "Where am I?" she asked.

"You're in the hospital. You had an operation. You're just a little doped up right now. Just lie back and take it easy, okay? Pretty soon, once they make sure you're vitals are all right and you're not having problems from the gas, we'll be able to head back upstairs to your room."

"Thirsty," she said.

"You're thirsty?"

She nodded.

Flack waved the nurse over and put in the request for a drink. Within a minute he was holding a Styrofoam cup of ice water, the straw pressed to his soon to be wife's lips as she sipped slowly. No sooner did she swallow, she announced she was going to be sick and turned onto her side. Promptly vomiting into a small plastic container Flack had been quick enough to grab from the bedside table and hold under her mouth.

She started to cry. Both from discomfort from the operation and the embarrassment of throwing up. Flack didn't see the big deal. She'd been so sick from the pregnancy from day one that her puking was completely expected and acceptable.

"It's okay," his voice was soft and comforting as he stroked her back. "Just take it easy, Sam. It's just the anaesthetic screwing things up. You'll feel better soon."

The nurse came and took the dirty container from him and handed him two wet face cloths. One to place on the back of her neck, the other to clean her face. He smiled in appreciation and patiently and lovingly attended to his ill fiancée.

"In about half an hour we'll be sending her back upstairs," the nurse told Flack. "Her vitals are stable and that will give her some time to get over the nausea."

"This is normal, right?" he asked, gently holding the face cloth to Sam's neck. "Throwing up like this after an operation?"

"A lot of people feel ill from the gas," she assured him. "It will pass soon. Keep giving her small sips of water. That way we avoid dehydration."

Flack sighed. He'd never had a clue that so many things could do wrong when a woman was pregnant. He'd never given much thought to anything other than the morning sickness and weight gain and the eventual birth. Seeing Sam suffer and experience one bad thing after another had really opened his eyes. What Gerrard had said earlier was entirely true. Carrying a baby and delivering it were acts of pure unselfishness.

And as he sat there, watching over Samantha and doing his best to provide care and comfort, he had never loved her more. Or had felt so much pride and respect.

* * *

It was never a positive sign when you were called into Chief of Detectives Brigham Sinclair's office at One Police Plaza. It was rare that anyone saw him or spoke to him even on the phone, so when her duty captain approached her desk less than an hour again and announced the Big Man wanted to see her, four sharp, and be there, Max knew she was in for a hell of an end to her already crappy afternoon.

The news that Samantha Ross had been rushed to the hospital and was undergoing an operation to save her unborn child that very afternoon had hit Max unexpectedly hard. She couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for the stress that Flack's future wife had been facing lately. Somewhat. Because it wasn't entirely her fault that she was causing issues in his relationship. If it was that unstable to begin with, they had no business even attempting to be together and it was best they cut their losses now than find out they weren't meant to be three kids and a mortgage later. Samantha was loose cannon. She was unpredictable and most of all, unhinged. And if she couldn't accept Flack being close to another child other than her own, than she had some serious growing up to do.

It wasn't that she hated Sam Ross. She was sure that if they had met under different circumstances, they would have been able to form a friendship. But she was so hooked on having Carmen as her best friend and so jealous of anything Flack did when he was away from her, that Sam couldn't even function or think straight. If she was away from Flack and their apparently unhealthy relationship, Max had no doubt that Sam was a very likeable, fun person. Some people just weren't meant to be together, and despite the declarations of love and a baby on the way, she was pretty sure that Sam and Flack wouldn't last a year once those rings were on their fingers.

But right now, sitting across from the Chief of Detective as he sat behind his desk while Gerrard perched himself on the nearby window ledge, Max had bigger things on her mind. And by the stern, angry looks on the two men's faces, those things weren't good.

"There's a very, very serious issue that has been brought to my attention," Sinclair finally said, tapping his finger on a file in front of her. "This is a complaint, filed against you, by one of your colleagues."

Max blinked. That was unexpected. "Was it Samantha Ross?" she asked.

"No," Gerrard answered. "But you're in the right vicinity."

"I don't understand," she said. "I haven't done anything to warrant a complaint being filed against me."

"Sexual harassment is something the NYPD has zero tolerance for, detective," Sinclair told her. "I deal with many a complaint and I end it before it gets any further than this office. But I have to tell you, that it's usually the female officers filing, not the men."

"Sir, I honestly don't…"

"The night that Detective Flack requested you be removed from a stakeout" Sinclair said. "Does that ring any bells, Detective Maxwell?"

"We know exactly what happened that night," Gerrard spoke up. "Flack told us this afternoon. He requested a new partner. And when a request like that is made, Chief Sinclair and I have to get to the bottom of why. Flack was very reluctant to tell us what happened. And we understand why he made an excuse that night. He needed to protect himself and his personal life. And he was doing you a favour by sparing the embarrassment that would have come if news of said incident got out among the other detectives."

"I don't understand why Flack would do this," Max said, shaking her head. She was stunned. And worried.

"He had every right to tell us," Sinclair told her. "Like I said, sexual harassment is a big deal within the department. It creates a negative work environment. And it's a legal liability. You realize Detective Flack has every right to sue the department if we don't nip this in the bud? He wouldn't, but he could. And that's a problem for me, Detective. I can't risk him suing the NYPD. And I can't risk him being nervous and on edge because he's working in a negative work environment."

"So this is all about Flack than?" Max snapped. "No one else's feelings get considered?"

"Let me make something very clear to you, detective," Sinclair's voice rose. "I don't care about your feelings at this point in time. You made a sexual advance on a colleague. On the clock, nonetheless. Not only is that unacceptable, it's a blatant show of disrespect to Flack, his pregnant wife and this department. He's uncomfortable and distracted working with you. And I can't afford to have a detective of his calibre distracted on his watch. Don Flack is one of the few shining stars of the NYPD. His career is flourishing and he's an asset to not only the department, but to the city. And I can not, and will not, tolerate someone like you, tarnishing someone like him."

"So what happens now? I'm suspended a few days? Without pay? That's fine because…"

"You're being demoted," Sinclair interrupted her. "You're being stripped of your detective status and will be back in a uniform on Monday. For the time being, you'll be on desk duty out of the five-three in the Bronx. When you show that you're capable of being out on patrol by means of a department physical, you'll be placed in a cruiser. You'll also have to wait a year from this date before even thinking about being placed on the promotion grid to become detective again."

Tears welled in her eyes, but Max remained strong. She wasn't going to give them the pleasure of seeing her break down. "Is that really necessary?"

Sinclair gave a small laugh. "You're just lucky you still have a job," he said. "And that Inspector Gerrard talked me out of firing you and making sure you spent the rest of your life writing parking tickets. Now get out of my office."

Max rose to her feet on shaky legs. "Sir, if I may just say one thing in my defense…"

Sinclair sighed and didn't look up from the folder now open in front of him, a pen poised over paper. "Make it quick," he said. "I've already wasted valuable time having to deal with this."

"It was a simple mistake," Max told him. "I was caught up in moment and…"

Sinclair looked up. Unimpressed. "You don't get caught up in these moments while you're on the City's clock. And you should refrain yourself from getting into these moments, as you call them, in the first place. Any other detective would have gone around and made you the laughing stock of the precinct. You never would have been able to work there again out of sheer embarrassment. Yet Flack, being the bigger person, kept it to himself. You should be thanking him for not ruining you completely."

"And Flack is just the perfect human being?" Max snorted. "He's never done anything wrong in his entire career?"

"He's never sexually harassed a co-worker," Sinclair told him. "He's never even had a complaint filed against him by a fellow officer. Detective Flack has had his share of problems. Both professionally and personally. But he's climbing the NYPD ladder and does not need someone like you holding him back."

"So really what you're saying is that you're using me and what happened between Flack and I as a way to accelerate the NYPD's golden boy's climb to the top. So that nothing negative puts a damper on all the plans you and his legend of a father have for him."

"Don Flack Jr and Sr are both better servants of this city and its citizens than you could ever hope to be," Sinclair told her. "Flack, Jr, will in no doubt one day run this department. And you'll be working for him. Still toiling away in a cruiser or behind a desk. It's the difference between a promising career, and one that stalled before it even got off the ground. I don't think you're understanding the severity of what you did. And I have neither the time, nor the patience to go through it again with you."

Sinclair turned his attention to the papers in front of him. It was a dismissal. One he'd given many a time. And it was tame compared to past ways he'd kicked others out of his office.

Max simply nodded and headed for the door, pausing with her hand on the knob to look back at the Chief of Detectives. "I'm sorry, sir, that you've made this a bigger deal than what it is."

"And I'm sorry as well," Sinclair said. "That you couldn't put past relationships or lack there of behind you for the sake of your career. But that's something maybe you can explain to your daughter when she's old enough to ask how you made such a mess out of your professional life. Now your seriously testing my patience. Please leave. Before I get angry. And I don't think you want that."

"It's just a shame that the Flacks seem to run the department already," Max commented wryly.

"And it's shame you couldn't see the importance of your career over a chance at getting laid. So you lost on two accounts. He turned you down and you lost a job. You're batting two for two. Go. You better hope and pray I don't see you back in my office ever again."

"I'll be seeing a department lawyer," Max told the Chief, shaking in silent fury.

"By all means," Sinclair responded. "I have my own already on speed dial. Don't make threats. You've got the wrong person for that. You're playing with the big boys here. And we have big rules."

She knew she was done. There was no other argument up her sleeve that would change Sinclair's decision. So she did the only thing that was left to salvage her pride.

She walked out of that office with her head held high.

* * *

Flack slept. He wasn't sure how long for. But when he woke up a gentle nudging on his arm, the sun was just beginning to set outside the window. Somewhere between getting Sam upstairs to her room and settled in with her own pillow and blanket and making sure she was comfortable before sitting down himself, and now opening his eyes to the shimmering orange of the departing sun's rays, he had put his head down on the edge of the bed and still holding his future wife's hand, had fallen asleep.

He raised his head slightly and glanced, through sleep filled eyes, at Sam as she slept soundly. The colour was starting to return to her cheeks and there was a slight smile on her lips. She was comfortable and pain free. For the time being at least.

He yawned and looked over his shoulder and up at the source of the nudging and shaking on his arm.

And came face to face with Sarge and Sam's mom. He was a little shocked to say the least, and briefly wondered if he was still sleeping and in the midst of some bizarre dream they were guest starring in. He knew that Adam had called his parents, but there'd be no mention of them coming to New York City.

"Hello, Don," Lynne greeted him with that soft voice and a warm smile.

It took him a moment to shake the cobwebs from his brain. He pushed the chair away from the bed and stood up. Before he could even get a word out of his mouth, his soon to be mother in law was embracing him warmly.

"Don," Sarge said simply, offering a hand.

"Clint," he responded, shaking the older man's hand. "I didn't know that you guys were coming down. Adam never mentioned it."

"It was a last minute decision," Lynne told him, observing her daughter. "We figured that we needed to be here. We wanted to be there. I hope that's okay. We didn't want to seem as if we were stepping on your toes."

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" Flack asked. "You're her parents. I just was surprised. I thought I was dreaming for a minute."

"Hell of a nightmare," Sarge chuckled lightly.

Flack managed a smile.

"How is she?" Lynne asked, moving to the side of the bed. She tenderly brushed hair from her daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her pale, smooth forehead.

"Let her sleep, Edith," Sarge scolded his wife lightly.

Flack looked at his future father in law, eyebrow raised, questioning the name.

"Edith is her real name," the older man explained. "She despises it and she's been using her middle name forever. I'm the only one she lets call her Edith."

"The things we don't do for love," she said with a smile and stroked her daughter's face.

"She needs her rest. Quit pawing her and just sit down and let her sleep," Sarge told his wife. "She's just been through an operation and it won't do her any good if you're waking her up."

Lynne settled down into the chair Flack had vacated. "How did everything go?" she asked.

"The operation itself went nice and smooth," Flack told her. "They sewed up the cervix and than did an ultrasound to make sure that the baby was okay. His heart beat was strong and there was a lot of movement so everything is good on that front."

"His?" Sarge asked.

Flack ignored the question for now. "Sam ever have a heart murmur when she was younger?" he asked, directing the inquiry to her mother. 'Cause apparently when she was under she had an abnormal heart ryhtym and they did an echo and found out she has one now."

Lynne nodded in recollection. "She had one when she was a baby. Doctor's attributed it to her being premature and it went away after a couple of years. But everything went fine?"

"She was a little sick afterwards from the gas," Flack replied. "Kept vomiting for about an hour so they kept her in recovery a little longer to make sure she was okay. She's been sleeping since we got back. They have her on some pretty heavy duty pain meds so she might be out for a while."

"I need to go and have myself a coffe," Sarge said with a sigh. "We were able to catch an American Airlines flight here. But it was packed and now I have a monstrous head ache. Not to mention we didn't sleep very well after we got that call from Adam."

Join the club, Flack thought wearily and rubbed at his eyes.

"Looks like you could use some coffee too," Sarge commented. "The stronger the better."

Flack nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you and I go grab a cup?" the older man suggested. "Her mom's here now so she isn't alone if she wakes up. You can't stay couped up in this room twenty four hours a day. And my daughter will understand if you step out for a little while."

Flack hated to leave her bedside. But he knew that Sarge wasn't right. That it wasn't healthy to lock himself up in that room. That he still needed sleep and something to eat and the occasional fill of fresh air and sunlight. And a shower. He desperately needed one of those. That was his next plan. To use the shower in the bathroom that came with a private room.

"Gives us a chance to talk anyway," Sarge said, as Flack grabbed his wallet from the top drawer on the bedside table.

Flack frowned. "About?"

"My daughter and my grandchild. Don't worry, son. I am not here to bust your balls about anything."

Somehow Flack doubted that, but he slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his pants and picked up the ultrasound picture sitting on the table.

* * *

They went and grabbed two coffees and a quick bite to eat in the cafeteria. Flack didn't realize how hungry he actually was until they were in amongst all the other dinners and the smells that were coming from the back kitchen. So they sat, talking about little more than the weather in their respective cities and the events going on around the troubled, sad world they lived in.

Afterwards they went outside for some air. Flack found himself sitting on the exact same bench where he'd earlier had his conversation with Sam about Ray Seeley and the Wilder Gang. And her referring to Mac as sexy. That still boggled his mind. And brought a grin to his face.

"Adam was telling me what a great job you've been doing," Sarge said. "Taking care of my daughter."

Flack didn't know how to respond. He had been expecting a blow out about the fight that had sent Sam scrambling to Adam's in the first place. He had all but been certain that Adam would share that information with the man that so badly wanted to chop his future son in law's balls off. Instead of facing the wrath of the former military man, Flack now found himself with nothing to say.

"I underestimated you," Sarge continued. "I was sceptical of your true feelings for Samantha. As far as I'm concerned, things still happened at too quick of a pace and the two of you barely know each other and I wish that the two of you had have slowed down a bit, smelled the roses some more before delving into marriage and a baby."

"And you're entitled to feel that way," Flack said, sipping his coffee.

"It's not a personal thing, son. It's really not. It's more my desire to protect my daughter. She's been through sheer hell in the past and I was worried about her getting involved with someone, especially a cop, so quickly."

"I understand that, but.."

"I do like you, Don Flack. You're a stand up guy and you work hard and do a dangerous, dangerous job. And you love my daughter. I can see it in your eyes. And the way Adam has been talking about how well you've been looking after her, I know that she's found someone that will protect her and take care of her no matter what. And I know she loves you. Any time she'll tell off her step-daddy must mean it's something serious."

Flack laughed lightly.

"I just hope the two of you know what you've gotten yourselves into. Getting married and having a family are two things that should not be taken lately. I hope five years from now I'm not supporting my daughter through a divorce and moving her and my grandkid into my house."

"Never gonna happen," flack said. "This is the real deal. Sam and I are the real deal. This is a long term, permanent thing. It's what we both want. Your daughter is who I want. For the rest of my life. And that's never going to change."

Sarge nodded, considering the younger man's words. Finally he grinned broadly. "Well good luck to you, son," he chuckled. "She ain't the easiest lady to live with. But than hell, none of them are."

"She can be quite, what's the word…" Flack thought for a minute. "Complicated…difficult.."

"You're being nice about it to spare her feelings and mine," Sarge laughed. "Be honest, son. I had her during those late teenage years. I already know she's a first class bitch."

Flack chuckled. "That's one way of putting it," he said.

Sarge pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his coat pocket. He shook out a smoke and held the open pack out to his future son in law.

Flack hesitated. It could be a test of how strong his will was. He already knew Sam had mentioned to her folks that he'd quit smoking for his health and the sake of their child.

"Don't think about it and just take it," Sarge said. "I've quit about five times in the past few months alone. I'm not going to tell my daughter if that's what you're worried about. You have my back, I'll have yours. I told my wife I'm only having a few smokes a day. It's more four times that."

"You're secret is safe with me," Flack assured him, and helped himself to a smoke.

"It's amazing what we do for love, isn't it?" Sarge asked, lighting the younger man's cigarette.

"First time I've ever really devoted myself to someone," Flack admitted. "Until Sam, I wasn't known for being in long term, monogamous relationships. When I met her, everything changed. I changed. For the better I like to think. I was never with a woman that I'd ever give up drinking and smoking for and spending less time working so I can be with her."

Sarge smiled. "It's those eyes, isn't it."

"With a few other things tossed in for good measure."

"You said upstairs his heartbeat when you were talking about the baby. Is this something you know for a fact? That it's a boy or a girl?"

Flack nodded. "The tech confirmed during the 4D ultrasound this morning that it's a boy. No doubt about it."

He picked up the picture that he'd set down beside him on the bench and held it out to the older man. "We got this picture. It's pretty neat. You can see all the dark hair he has and make out most of his facial features."

Sarge took the picture and studied it. Clearly making out on eye and a tiny ear and nose. And for the first time in a long time, his iron will began to crumble and emotion clogged his throat and tears threatened as he realized he was staring down at a picture of his first grandchild. A grandson at that. He'd been silently asking for a grandson. Someone he could take fishing and camping and to football games. Teach him how work with his hands and make an honest living and how to treat a woman right. Although the latter he was sure the child's father could pass along just by watching the way his father loved and respected his mother.

"His name's Kieran," Flack said, pointing the name written on the bottom of the picture. "Kieran Shaun Donald Flack."

"Strong name," Sarge said with a nod. "Does Kieran have some special meaning?"

"Sam found it in an Irish baby names book. She wanted an Irish name because we're both pretty proud to have Irish blood in us. Kieran means small and black or dark haired."

"Fitting."

"Sam thought so. Although I did have to talk her out of the whole Donald Flack the Third thing. That would have been just plain torture if you ask me."

Sarge gave a small laugh. He traced a fingertip over his unborn grandson's features.

"I'm going to be a grandpa," he said, his voice cracking.

Flack didn't say anything. He simply reached out and laid a hand on the older man's shoulder.

No more words were spoken. Instead, the two men sat silently side by side, lost in their own thoughts as the sun set on the horizon.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing!! You are all very much appreciated!**


	87. Some people change

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN AND EVAN LUCERNO.**

**Some people change**

"And god only knows all the places I've been  
But I love this life that I'm living in  
I wont look back to regret yesterday  
Were not handed tomorrow  
so I'll live for today  
Another day and yet another's done  
spending a life living with in the past  
I'll take the chance before the chance has gone  
You never know when it'll be your last."  
-Live For Today, Three Doors Down

* * *

It had been a while since Flack last put on his dress blues. Almost five years. In his profession, not having a fellow officer's funeral to attend in five years was nothing short of a miracle. A few weeks ago, when cleaning out his closet in preparation of the move to the new place, he'd come across his dress uniform sealed in a garment back hanging at the very back. He'd taken it out and laid it on the bed and unzipped the bag. He'd thought back to his academy graduation when he'd worn the blues with pride. Having finally done something with his life and embarking on a career he knew he'd be damn good at. If not great. That uniform had seen a lot of wear in the days and weeks following September 11th. There'd been a countless, gut wrenching string of funerals to attend following the terrorist attacks on the city he loved and called home. He hoped and prayed New York City, and the world would never see something that horrific again.

Fall of 2003. That had been the last time he'd worn those dress blues. When Officer Valasquez, an NYPD veteran, had been shot off his horse, Blue, in the middle of Central Park. He was just on his regular mounted patrol when he attempted to intervene on a young black man assaulting an elderly gent in a brazen daylight attack. A sniper waiting in the window of building at a startling distance from the park only needed one shot. The bullet had pierced through Valasquez' vest and he was dead before he hit the ground.

Willie Chauncey, the kid who'd started the fight with the unsuspecting tourist, had lured the officer to the exact spot where the sniper could get his kill shot. Jerald Brown was highly skilled marksman who'd been demoted for disobeying military orders. He had a serious hard on for the cops because his father, Willie's uncle, had been screwed over by a crooked cop and was shivved and died in jail before he could get a court date. It was nothing personal against Valasquez. Brown just picked any cop and pulled the trigger.

Flack remembered that case like it was yesterday. More because it was a dead 'brother', and because of the sparring match he'd had with Chancy in interrogation over the disposable cell phone the kid had dropped at the scene. Flack had chided him about it, asking him if the girl he was talking to was giving him phone sex. And the little smart ass had said, yeah, you want her number?

Sam had come in, and saw him standing there at the foot of the bed, lost in thought as he stared down at his dress uniform. She knew that look in his eyes. Dark and sullen and troubled. And she'd approached the bed quietly and stood beside him and wrapped her around about his waist and rested her head against his arm, leaving him with his thoughts for several minutes. When he finally forced all gloomy thoughts from his mind, he'd turned to her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I wish I had have been at your graduation to see you in that," she'd said. "I bet you look hot."

"It's just a uniform," he'd told her.

"I know. But it's dress blues. And I bet you look damn sexy in them."

He'd stopped short of offering to play dress up for her. Because not only did that seem a little disrespectful to the badge, he had also known that he was about twenty-five pounds heavier than he was in 2003 and there was no way that uniform would fit him now. But he'd made a decision to go and pay out of the pocket for a new one. Maybe that had been an omen. A sign that something was going to happen that would require the dress blues. Because until that day, he'd never gave the uniform a second thought.

Now he stepped off the elevator at Women's and Children's. Making a pit stop to his slowly recuperating wife to be in hopes it would cheer her up a little to see him in his dress uniform. And needing a little moral support from her to get him through the difficult afternoon ahead of him.

He'd gone home early that morning to drop off his dirty clothes and pack a bag of clean stuff to take back with him. Sam had been sleeping when he'd leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead softly and than bent to press a kiss to her rounded belly. There'd been no further complications. She'd been taking off the catheter and was allowed to take small walks to and from the bathroom and around the room. Nothing too strenuous. Once she could walk to the elevators and back with no discomfort, it was time to head home. They were looking at least another few days. And another week or two before she could return to work on a very strict modified schedule.

He peeked his head into the room. Nearly filled to bursting with elaborate flower arrangements and get well cards and balloon bouquets. Sam was awake and sitting up in bed, the ear piece for the television in one ear while she ate a small Styrofoam bowl of soft serve vanilla ice cream and watched The Price is Right.

She was clad in a pair of warm flannel pyjamas from home. White with black and yellow penguins on them. The woman didn't own any night ware that didn't boast cartoon characters of some kind. And that was okay by Flack. It was what was under the clothing that mattered most.

"Trying to win a new car?" he asked from the doorway.

She jumped slightly. Not expecting anyone to speak to her suddenly. "I was actually hoping for a trip to Thailand," she said, not looking away from the t.v. "But my price wasn't right."

"That's rough. We could have went on a honeymoon after all," he teased and journeyed into the room.

"My thought exactly," she said, and glanced over at him. A broad smile spread across her face at the sight on him in his dress uniform. Hat and all. "Well hello Officer," she drawled.

"Thought I'd stop by and give you a little peek," Flack told her, removing the hat and setting it on the bedside table before leaning over the bed to kiss her.

"Well that just cheered me right up," she said, removing the ear piece and reaching up to flick off the television. "I didn't think you'd come by until after the funeral."

"I just wanted to see you and check up on you," Flack told her, putting the railing down on the bed so he could sit down alongside of her. "Where'd you get the ice cream?"

"Don't worry. It's frozen yogurt and it's sugarless. My dad brought it up for me before he and mom headed out to do some tourist stuff with Gus. She's awful brave. Offering to spend a day with my parents, especially Sarge, without Adam there to rescue her."

"Has your dad said anything to you about me? Good things, I mean?"

Sam smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "If you mean did he mention you guys kissed and made up and bonded over Kieran, yes, he did."

Flack smiled as well. "I love when you say that," he said, his hand rubbing her stomach in smooth, gentle circles. "Calling the baby by his name."

"I like referring to him by his name. Makes it seem so real. But I'm excited now. Seeing him and knowing he's okay. I don't think I can wait another twenty weeks for him to be born. I wish we could have him right now."

"So do I. But for his own sake, it's best if he just stays where he is. We're just going to have to be patient. As difficult as that seems at this point in time."

"Impossible is more like it," she sighed. She turned her head sideways and sniffed his clothes and nuzzled her nose into him. "You smell damn yummy," she announced. "Dress blues, yummy smelling cologne. If I didn't know any better, detective, I would say you're trying to turn me on."

"Is it working?" he teased.

She nodded. "If I didn't feel so shitty, I'd say lock the door and make an honest woman out of me."

"Don't tempt me, Sam. 'Cause I know you're really sick and I wouldn't actually try anything on you. But I miss you. A lot."

"I miss you, too," she said. "In every way."

"When you get out of here, things are going to be better," he promised her. "I talked to Gerrard and Sinclair. The day of your operation. I told them all about Max and what happened that night of the stake out. And that I wanted a new partner."

"What did they say? Were they mad that you never told them what happened in the first place?"

"They were glad I told them. And they said that I'd be put with Scagnetti on Monday and that they'd take care of Max."

"Hmm.." Sam said, spooning some ice cream into her mouth. "And did they?"

He nodded. "Angell called me to spread the word. You know how she likes to gossip sometimes. Max was demoted back down to a uniform. And placed on desk duty for who knows how long."

"Really?" she arched an eyebrow and wished she could say that she felt bad. She didn't.

"That's the word. Sinclair apparently ripped her a new one. Tossing out the whole sexual harassment card. Little harsh from what I heard."

"Well deserved," Sam concluded.

He smirked. "No love lost for you, huh?"

"At this point in time, I wouldn't care if she was shipped back to Canada. I've had a hell of a four days, Don. I have stitches holding my cervix together. I haven't eaten a decent meal since I got here and I'm starving. I'm tired. All I want to do is sleep. And you expect me to be sympathetic?"

"No…I just didn't expect you to be so…I don't know…harsh.."

"Well I'm sure she's just shedding tears over causing me the stress that put me here in the first place," Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm as she leaned over to toss her spoon and empty bowl in the garbage by her bed. "I bet she's just a picture of misery."

Flack knew better than to respond to that. He understood she was tired and weary and despite the meds slowly dripping into her system, that she was still some form of pain and discomfort. He couldn't wait until she was back to normal. Sleeping beside him in the same bed. Her hair tickling his back and her feet and legs brushing up against him. Her breath on his skin. The smell of her. The sound of her breathing.

Just having her there and seeing her there. Even the way she left used tea bags in the sink and the top off the toothpaste. Or her bras hanging off the shower bar in the bathroom and the way she put the toilet paper on backwards. Little things that annoyed him yet let him know she was around.

"You gonna be okay here alone?" he asked her. "If you're mom and Sarge are out with Adam and Gus and I'm at the funeral…"

"I'll be okay," she replied confidently.

"You're not suppose to get out of bed alone. What if you have to go to the bathroom?"

"I'll page the nurse. Besides, I think Mac and Stella are supposed to be stopping by a little later. It will be nice to see them. And I think Mac wants to go over that modified assignments list."

"That is going to kill you," Flack said. "You just know that he's going to park you at a desk."

She pouted dramatically.

"It's either that or go on sick leave and stay home." Flack informed her. "So take your pick."

"Hmmm…I think I'd rather sit on my ass answering a phone and doing paper work than sitting on my ass watching Jerry Springer."

He grinned. "Very good choice," he said.

She yawned noisily and rested her head on his chest and her hand on his stomach. "What time do you have to leave at?" she asked.

"In about forty five minutes."

"If I fall asleep, wake me up before you go? Don't leave without saying goodbye."

"See ya."

"Hmm?"

"It's see ya, remember? We don't say goodbye. That's bad luck. We agreed to never say goodbye. Because goodbye is permanent and I have ever intention on coming back."

"You better come back," she said. "'Cause I will hunt you down if you don't."

Flack chuckled. "I don't doubt that one bit," he said and tightened his hold on her.

She closed her eyes and nestled into him.

He rested his chin on the top of her bed. Breathed in her soft scent. Felt her body rising and falling against him with each breath she took.

Within minutes she was fast asleep. He held her securely, a hand on her stomach. A soft smile curving his lips when he felt his son squirming around inside of her.

"I'm here, buddy," he said quietly. "And I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Carmen couldn't concentrate.

She and Speed had both taken Friday and Saturday off in hopes to finish up last minute packing at her old place and preparations at the new one. They spent the majority of that morning and into early afternoon transporting boxes and clothing and things Carmen didn't trust anyone else with to the new apartment. She had a few select things that she only entrusted to her own care, and would kill someone if they damaged or broke them in transport.

There was the last minute clean up at her apartment to do and little projects she wanted to get down at the new place before things got hectic and crazy during the move on Saturday. She wanted to have her clothes hung in the closet and curtains and blinds hung on the windows and some shelving put up in the living room. And the bedroom furniture that Flack had ordered was due to arrive some time in the afternoon and someone needed to receive the items.

But Carmen's nerves were completely shot. No matter what she attempted, whether it be attaching curtain hooks or scrubbing out the fridge, her hands shook and her head swam with thousands of thoughts and she could not concentrate for more than a few minutes at the time. The same thing had been happening to her at work. She was scatter brained and dropping things and found it impossible to focus.

All she could think about was Sam and the baby. Kieran. Carmen had fallen in love with the name as soon as she heard it. It was different and unique without being over the top. She would have killed Sam if she'd picked something like Apple. What was next? Orange? Banana? Kids were not meant to be named after fruit.

And when Flack had showed her the ultrasound pic the evening following Sam's operation when she and Speed had stopped by to check on things, Carmen had fallen even deeper in love. Sure, there wasn't that much to see other than the standard eyes and nose and mouth and ears and all that black hair, but she could tell just looking at that picture that her nephew would break a lot of hearts one day.

Carmen sighed and sat back on her heels and wiped sweat off of her brow with her forearm. She been scrubbing the inside of the fridge for ten minutes and hadn't seen any result. She wondered just how in hell the previous occupants could be so damn dirty that it nearly took a jackhammer to get the fridge and stove clean, never mind soap and water.

She glanced over her shoulder to where her fiance was on a step ladder installing mini blinds over the small dining room window. She was about to suggest that they take a break and run down to the little deli on the corner for a cold drink and something to eat, but when she went to stretch her leg out, caught the bucket of water and soap and sent it tumbling over.

"For fuck sakes!" she screeched, and in a vain attempt to get up to clean the mess, slipped in the puddle and fell ass first into the water and suds.

Speed, who'd looked over at the sound of the bucket toppling over, tried his best to cover the chuckle that threatened to erupt from his mouth. Seeing his future wife sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, turning bright red and shouting out every curse word she knew, was humorous to him. But it would also be his painful and torturous death if he dared laugh at her.

"You okay?" he asked, using a screwdriver to tighten the track on the blinds.

"No!" she snapped in response, righting the now nearly empty bucket. "I'm not! My ass is soaked and I'll have huge bruises tomorrow! And I'm tired and hungry and I'm worried and…"

Carmen stopped ranting and burst into tears. All the fear and worry and frustration over not being able to do anything for Sam or her godson came pouring out of her. While she knew that there'd be no complications and that her friend was on the mend, she wouldn't feel totally at ease until Sam was out of the hospital. And when the time came for that baby to make his appearance in the world.

Speed put his chores on hold and climbed down from the step ladder and went to his fiancee. Not thinking twice before sitting down in the water right along side of her.

"What are you doing?" Carmen cried through her tears. "You'll get wet!"

"It'll dry," Speed told her, and gathered her slender body into his arms. Holding her tightly as she let all of emotions flow out.

For several minutes they sat there, wrapped in each others arms. The water soaking through their jeans. Until Carmen's crying subsided and she sniffled noisily and drew away from those strong, protective arms.

"You okay?" Speed asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

She nodded and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. "It's just….everything. Sam being so sick and coming so close to losing the baby. I just don't think I can take much more. It's not fair that they have to go through all of this."

"Flack said that the operation went well and that she's on the mend," Speed reminded her. "And that the baby is healthy."

"I know. I just can't stop worrying that something else will go wrong. They deserve to be happy, Tim. And so far, everything has gone wrong for them."

"Things are looking up," he assured her. "Now that they're past this whole cervix thing and the operation, it will be smooth sailing for them. I promise."

"I hope you're right," Carmen sighed. "All I know is that I can't wait for this baby to just hurry up and get here."

Speed nodded. "I think we'll all be relieved and ecstatic when that day comes."

"Even you?" Carmen laughed. "Mr Why Bother With the Kid When You Can Have a Cat or a Puppy and Save Loads of Money?"

Speed chuckled. "Even me," he said and kissed her cheek. He checked his watch. Almost three thirty. "Why don't you head to the hospital," he suggested. "I know that's where you really want to be."

"There's still a few things that I need to get done," Carmen said. "I have to finish the fridge and than move on to the stove and I want to get the bathroom clean."

"Those blinds there," he nodded in the direction of the dining room window, "are the last ones I need to get up. So I am more than willing and capable of finishing all the other little things up too."

"I can't leave all that for you to do," she argued.

"It's not that much," he assured her. "I'll be done in no time."

"Tim, I can't let…"

"Yes, you can," he told her. "And you will. Got it?"

She smiled, her green eyes sparkling. "God I love you," she said.

He returned the smile and kissed her. Long and soft. "Go and change into some dry clothes and get out of here," he told her. "I know it's killing you not to be with Sam. And you should be with her. She's your best friend and she'd do the same thing for you."

"She would," Carmen agreed. "And I don't like the thought of her being alone for too long. Flack had that funeral to go to and I know her parents are out with Gus and Adam."

"Go," he insisted.

She kissed him softly, than struggled to her feet.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Carmen told him as she stood up.

"Die of loneliness," he said, only half joking.

"That's exactly it," she agreed, and breezed out of the kitchen.

Join the club, he thought and got up from the soggy floor. He grabbed a couple rolls of paper towels from the package on the kitchen counter and unravelled them before dropping them onto the puddle. He was on his hands and knees, attempting to clean the quickly spreading mess when a loud knock came to the apartment door.

* * *

He sighed and stood up and headed through the kitchen to answer, wiping his hands on his wet thighs. Thankful he'd brought along a change of clothes. Although he had planned on wearing them the following morning to do the big move. After he and Carmen spend a wild night on the mattress on the floor in her new bedroom. The thought of that made him grin as he unlocked the dead bolt and yanked open the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked the young man in the hallway. He was clad in a simple grey t-shirt and a ball cap that read Allied Transport and Delivery across it and carried a clipboard.

"I'm looking for a…" he referred to the clipboard. "Carmen Devine."

"Because….?" Speed prodded.

"Delivery," the kid stated.

"What's going on?" Carmen asked as she approached the door, zipping up the hoodie jacket that was part of the off white Lu Lu Lemon yoga outfit she'd changed into. Sam was a massive fan of the comfortable clothing and had gotten Carmen addicted as well.

"Are you Carmen Devine?" the delivery man asked.

"I am," she replied, pulling her hair from the back of her jacket as she stepped alongside of Speed.

"Were you expecting a delivery?" Speed asked curiously.

"Other than that bedroom furniture Flack ordered, no. And that's not arriving for another couple of hours. They confirmed a little while ago."

"This is something bigger than bedroom furniture, m'am," the young man held out his clipboard and pulled a pen out from behind his ear and clicked it open. "Can you print here, and sign here?" he use the pen to point to the different spots.

"Just exactly what am I signing and printing for?" Carmen asked, doing as he asked.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys that he dropped onto the clipboard. "You're new car," he said matter of factly.

"My what?" she asked.

"Car. It's not exactly new. Only a year old though. Barely any miles on it, Fully loaded. It's a beauty if I do say so myself."

"Car?" Carmen asked, needing some clarification.

"Chevy Malibu to be exact," he told her. "Black. Sweet as hell. Eight cylinder. Moon roof. Heated seats."

"You're telling me someone sent me a car?" Carmen's head was swimming. "Who would send me a car?"

The young man took the clipboard back and flipped through several pages before finding the one he wanted. "Well we brought it down from Phoenix, but the delivery address is a 1398 Jefferson here in New York City. No apartment number."

"That's Flack's address," Speed said to Carmen. "Flack bought you a car?"

"No," the young man shook his head. "Last name isn't Flack. Person who delivered it is a Zack Tanner."

"What?" Carmen was stunned. "I didn't even know him. And he died months ago."

"That's the name," he said, showing her the proof.

Carmen closed her eyes briefly, gathering her thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked at Speed. A moment of clarity hitting her. "Samantha," she said.

"How would she have money to buy you a car?" Speed asked. "And why put it in Zack's name?"

"Remember when Zack's sister showed up unexpectedly? Well Sam told me not long ago that his sister was here to tell her that Sam had been left Zack's entire estate and some personal effects. I was the only one who knew and I vowed to keep it to myself until she was ready to tell people. One of those personal effects must have been a car. That's the only explanation."

"How'd you even know she was here?" Speed asked the young man. "And the delivery date says for tomorrow."

"This was the secondary address we were given and we managed to get a head start on the road. There was no answer at the first address so we came here," he yanked a handful of papers from the back of the pile and held them out to Carmen. "This is yours. Proof of ownership and registration."

"This is insane," Carmen breathed, taking the papers and scanning them. Tears threatened once more.

"My partner is just unloading it from the flat bed," the delivery man said. "If you'd like to come down and take a look."

Carmen nodded and drew in a shaky breath. "I'd like that very much," she said.

And than I am going to that hospital and either hugging and kissing Samantha Ross or strangling her.

* * *

He stood by the side of the bed and watched her sleep. Ignoring the sights of the tubes and wires that seemed to suffocate her petite frame, he concentrated instead on her face. The way her long, dark eyelashes rested on her pale, smooth skin. The slight rosiness and smile on her delicate lips. She was as beautiful now as she was nearly sixteen years ago. Her hair was shorter and she'd gained weight. Her face was fuller now. Healthy looking despite her stay in the hospital. A lot had changed since she was a young, vivacious and free spirited girl hanging out with the tough crowd, trying to make a name for herself on the streets and earn respect despite her tiny size. No one ever took her seriously. Until someone pissed her off and she laid a beating of a lifetime on them. She was small and tough. A force to be reckoned with.

When he'd heard after many years that she'd come back to town, there'd be no doubt in his mind that he had to see her. It was fate. All that time had past and many girlfriends had come and gone yet he couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd been surprised when he'd heard what she'd done with her life. A masters degree in forensics and a career as a Crime Scene Investigator. Last thing he ever expected from a girl that once spent a week in juvenile detention for boosting a car -one of her claims to fame and her greatest talent at fifteen- and her countless run ins with store security for shop lifting and vandalism was to hear she'd become a cop. But than, the last thing people expected from a guy that once packed heat and ran drugs and spent time in lock up was that he'd gone on to be a Wall Street player.

She murmured in her sleep and shifted slightly in the bed. Her head falling to the side and her face turning towards him. She didn't stir.

He moved closer to the bed and leaned over the railing. Tenderly pushing her hair away from her forehand before cupping her cheek softly, his thumb trailing over her cheek.

"Donnie.." she mumbled and turned her face into the hand stroking her cheek. Her eyes suddenly snapping open when she realized that that was not what her future husband's skin felt like. Nor did Flack smell like whoever was standing by her bed. It startled her and she woke immediately.

"Evan!"? she nearly shrieked and sat up quickly, moving to get away from that hand. Too abruptly. She felt a slight twinge of pain at the sight of her stitches.

"Good afternoon, sleeping beauty," he said with a warm smile.

"What the hell?" she asked, slightly disoriented from sleep and medication. "What are you doing here?"

"It's been a long time, Samantha. Aren't you surprised to see me?"

"Yes. Now tell me what you're doing here."

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for over a month now," Evan told her, putting down the railing and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You haven't returned any of the messages I left on your cell or at your work."

"Well I've been busy," Sam informed him, moving closer to the railing on the opposite side of the bed.

Evan glanced down at her stomach. "Apparently," he said.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"I stopped by your work," he said. "One of your colleagues told me that you were here and that you had an operation. Is everything okay? What was wrong with you?"

"It's none of your business," Sam told him. "And don't give me that crap that someone at the lab told you. I know that you've been talking to Erica. Probably back fooling around with her too. A leopard doesn't change its spots."

Evan sighed. "That's a long time ago."

"It is. So do me a favor and let the past sixteen years go and get out of my room. Things change. People change. And I'm not feeling well and just want to be left alone."

He held his hands up in self defence. "I'm only here to talk, Samantha. Not to cause you or your baby any problems."

"You shouldn't even be here," she said. "You have no business being here. You and I haven't had anything to do with each other for sixteen years nearly."

"You took off for Arizona," Evan reminded her.

"My mom got re-married. My step dad thought it was best for me and Adam to be out of New York City. And you know what? He was right. It did both me and my brother a world of good."

"You could have kept in touch with me."

Sam laughed. "Oh my God. You honestly can't be serious. You forced me to have sex with you, than you broke up with me when I wouldn't put up any more, went to my cousin and started all kinds of rumours about me. Screw you, Evan. Get the hell out of my room. Before I call security and have you removed."

"Samantha, I am not here to cause you issues. I'm just here to try and make amends with you."

"Amends? Why?"

He went to lay his hand over hers.

Sam yanked her hand away and moved as far over in the bed as she could. "What do you want from me, Evan? I'm hardly in the mood or physical condition to put up with any shit. I've just had an operation. And I'm five months pregnant and the father of my baby should be here soon and if you knew what was good for you, you'd just leave."

"I only want to talk to you," Evan told her.

"About what? We haven't spoken in a long time. What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"Like I was saying. I am here to make amends."

"For what?" Sam asked, than yanked her hand away when he reached for it once again. "Do not fucking touch me," she hissed. "You want to talk, than sit there and talk. But don't touch me ever again."

"Judging by the looks of you and your condition, it doesn't seem like you have a problem with men touching you at all."

Sam's eyes narrowed and darkened. "Get the fuck out of my room," she ordered.

"I come in peace," he insisted. "I really do. That was an asshole thing for me to say.."

"Yeah, it was," Sam agreed. "But I've dealt with bigger assholes. So leave."

"Would you just hear me out, Samantha? You were always bad at that. Jumping to conclusions and getting all defensive and not giving people a chance to get a word in edge wise. I just have a few things I'd like to say to you. That I need to say. Just give me a few minutes."

She eyed him suspiciously and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," she said. "A few minutes. But than you have to leave and I don't want you ever showing up here or trying to contact me again."

"Fair enough. I want you to know that I'm in a twelve step program. For alcohol and drugs."

She snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"

"And part of the program is seeking someone out from our past that we did wrong and making amends with them. And when I heard you had come back to New York City, I knew it was fate. That you were that one person I needed to get in contact with and set everything right."

"So you're here to apologize for forcing me to have sex with you and than fucking my cousin and than spreading bullshit rumours about me. Fine. I accept your apology. Now get out."

"I really am sorry, Samantha. For all the pain I caused you. I was young and stupid and immature and I never meant to hurt you."

She nodded, contemplating his words. "We were all young and stupid," she said.

"Apology accepted?"

"I already said that. Yes. I accept your apology. Now I think it's best if you left."

"I was kind of hoping I could stick around for a bit. Catch up on old times."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said, relegating herself to the fact that he wasn't going away that easily and she had no strength or energy to fight with him. "Where do you want me to start?"

* * *

Mac caught sight of the familiar face as he and Stella slipped from the company truck Mac had just parked in the short stay unit. They were nowhere near the end of another long, tedious shift, but Mac wanted to get work issues sorted out with Samantha and Stella had wanted to come along for a short visit. It was hard getting in a proper hour or so to stop by and check up on Sam and the baby with all the long, crazy hours they worked, so Stella seized every opportunity she got.

Flack was cutting across the short stay lot. He'd parked at the very back. The underground was full yet again and the parking attendants in short stay were beginning to look the other way when he used the lot. The funeral for Brendan Doyle had ended an hour ago. It had been intense and emotional. It had broken Flack's heart to watch Doyle's young wife, clad in black, sobbing uncontrollably in the front row of the grave side service. In a moment of sheer selfishness, all Flack had thought about at that moment was what Samantha would have looked like and felt like had it been her in that front row.

He'd gone home and packed away that dress uniform and was now clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a simple button top shirt and a ball cap. Anxious to have the day behind him.

"You here to be the bearer of bad news, Mac?" Flack asked, falling in step alongside of Stella.

"I'm hoping my ideas go over a little better than that," the older man replied. "I know she's not going to be too impressed with the idea of sitting behind a desk until she's back from maternity leave."

"She's going to be mighty pissed," Flack said with a chuckle. "Being here and confined to a bed has already done a number on her. She's liable really snap when you tell her she's going to park herself on her ass for the next four months."

"I was thinking we could try an approach that would help the two of us," Mac said. "With business booming over at the lab and running myself ragged between working out in the field and in the lab and trying to balance obligations to the department with the media and public, I've been wearing myself thin. I was hoping that Sam would agree to act as a liason of sorts between me and the public and the brass."

"Like a secretary?" Flack asked.

"I prefer to call it public relations," Mac told the detective. "Sam's very bubbly and likeable. People take well to her. She'd be the perfect person to handle things like that. And it would be a big help to me to have someone run files back and forth and answer phone calls and book appointments."

"So like a secretary," Flack repeated.

"Public relations," Mac corrected. "I thought maybe she'd like that better than just sitting and working at a computer and filing all day long. Still keeps her in the safety of the lab, but gives her a little more excitement."

Flack nodded as he considered it. "I think as long as you give her a little more to do than just sit around, she shouldn't have a problem with it."

"How have things been?" Stella asked. "Since the operation?"

"Not bad," Flack replied. "She's still having some discomfort. Especially when she moves suddenly or too much. But I guess that's too be expected. She's got her appetite back but the doctors are slowly allowing her back onto a regular diet. And she's off the catheter. Happy day for her when that happened. She needs help getting to and from the bathroom, but she's getting there."

"And the baby?" Stella asked.

Flack beamed. "He's doing great. They check on him every day and we get to listen to his heart beat. They only use the Doppler thing because they say too many ultrasounds can be harmful to him. But his heart beat is strong and last scan showed he was moving around like crazy. Sam feels him a lot more now. Even I can feel him sometimes if she's really quiet and still."

Stella smiled.

"It's an amazing thing," Flack said. "Hearing his heart beat and seeing and feeling him move around. I've never experienced anything like it. To know that something I helped created is inside of her," he shook his head. "It's surreal."

"I never thought I'd see the day that your face and your eyes lit up like that about anything," Stella commented. "It's an amazing thing to see, Flack."

He shrugged his broad shoulders and sighed. "What can I say? I'm a changed man."

* * *

While Stella stopped off at the cafeteria to pick up some drinks and something quick for them to eat, Mac and Flack headed up to Sam's room. They talked about the altercation between Max and Sinclair and Max's demotion and send off to her new 'home'. Mac didn't mention that Gerrard had approached him that morning and asked him to write a letter of recommendation to be shown to the brass and placed in Flack's employment jacket. Or that the reason Gerrard had asked for such was the upcoming placement of Don Flack Jr on the promotion grid and the suggestion that he take the Sargeant's exam in mid December.

They had just reached Sam's room when they heard an unfamiliar male voice coming from inside. And Sam's light laughing. She hadn't laughed in a long time it seemed, and while it was refreshing to hear, they couldn't help but wonder who was the source of her cheeriness.

"Who the hell are you?" Flack asked, when he stepped into the room and saw the young man in the expensive Italian wool suit and silk tie and Bruno Magli shoes parked on the edge of his soon to be wife's bed.

"Don," Sam reached for his hand, looking slightly worried that there'd be an altercation. "This is an old friend of mine."

"Yeah?" he asked, and took her hand and stepped to the side of the bed to lean over and kiss her. "What kind of old friend?"

"Someone from a long time ago," she told him. "Hi, Mac," she greeted her boss as he kissed her cheek softly and patted her stomach gently.

"You look much better," Mac said. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that."

"That's to be expected," he said.

"You never answered my question," Flack said to the young man. Keeping a firm, almost possessive grip on Sam's hand. "Who the hell are you?"

"Who are you?" Evan responded.

"Don, this is Evan Lucerno. The friend that I told you about," Sam stressed the word friend. "Evan, this is my fiance Detective Don Flack and my boss at the lab, Detective Mac Taylor."

Neither man made to shake Evan's hand. Nor did Evan move to get up and do likewise.

"Flack and Mac, huh?" Evan smirked. "Sounds like a comedy troupe. You guys ever think about taking your act on the road?"

"Only thing we'll be taking on the road is your ass," Flack said. "Straight out the door."

"Lucerno?" Mac asked. "You wouldn't happen to be related to a Johnny Lucerno, would you?"

"My older brother," Evan replied. "Why?"

"You remember Johnny Lucerno, don't you, Flack?" Mac asked. "The Tanglewood case. Paul Montenassi. The kid with the fake tattoo that Sonny Sassone beat to death with the Mickey Mantle bat in Central Park. Montenassi clocked this Lucerno kid with the bat in hopes of gaining entrance into Tanglewood."

"You mean the wise ass Pelham Bay punk we busted up at the New Rochelle Mall?" Flack inquired. "One that tried to hit on Stel with some lame pick up line about the ladies digging his hair?"

Mac nodded.

Flack smirked and looked down at Evan. "Your brother had a smart mouth. I knocked a ball cap off his head when you called me and Detective Taylor here homos."

"Maybe my brother was just a great judge of character," Evan said coolly.

Sam grabbed Flack's hand even tighter when he made a move as if to clock Evan one. "He just came to apologize for some things," she said, turning her golden eyes up at her future husband. "About the way certain things were handled a long time ago."

"Little too late for that, don't ya think?" Flack asked Evan. "You wait sixteen years to cough up an I'm sorry? Or were you hoping once you heard your ex girl was in town that you'd sneak your way in. Charm her with your money and your professional status."

"I was a little disappointed to hear she wasn't available," Evan admitted. "But now that I've seen who she's with, I'm even more disappointed in her."

"Donnie…" Sam had to yank him back towards her when he made a threatening move towards Evan. "He's not here to cause problems."

Evan calmly stood and smoothed down his pants and buttoned up his jacket. "It's okay, Samantha," he assured her. "I need to get going anyway."

"I think that's a damn good idea," Flack told him.

"Maybe I'll stop by again," Evan said to Samantha, ignoring the big detective.

"One visit is enough," she said. "It was nice to see you again and I accepted your apology. But that's it. I don't want to see you again, Evan. I have a life. And I love my life and whose in my life and nothing is worth jeopardizing that. Not even five zeros in your annual salary."

Flack's hand relaxed around hers a little. Feeling a surge of love and pride go through him at her words.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Samantha," Evan said. "Wall Street is a nice life to get involved in."

"For some maybe. But I prefer a man who wears a bullet proof vest and carries handcuffs and a gun. That's my weakness. And the man I have…you couldn't even come close to him."

Evan smiled slightly, than turned to look at Flack. "I hope you realize what you have in that girl," he said as he headed for the door.

Flack nodded slowly. "I'm starting to," he said.

Evan smirked and left the door, closing the door softly behind him.

Flack turned to Samantha and smiled down at her. And even with Mac standing there, leaned over the bed and embraced her and kissed her long and soft.

He was starting to realize just what they had together. And that there wasn't a damn thing he wouldn't do to make sure they kept it.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Next chap will jump forward some and we'll soon to be getting into the drama with Matthew! And of course, the promotion will soon follow! And the birth of baby Kieran!**


	88. Not quite there yet

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN**

**SPECIAL THANKS TO APHINA, BRTTMCLV AND HOPE4SALL FOR ENCOURAGING ME TO CONTINUE. THANKS TO THEM, MOB CONTINUES.**

**Not quite there yet**

"The sky knows when its time to snow,  
Don't need to teach a seed to grow.  
It's just another ordinary miracle today.  
Life is like a gift they say  
Wrapped up for you everyday;  
Open up and find a way  
To give some of your own.  
Isn't it remarkable?  
Like every time a rain drop falls,  
It's just another ordinary miracle today.  
Birds in winter have their fling  
But always make it home by spring.  
It's just another ordinary miracle today.  
When you wake up everyday  
Please don't throw your dreams away;  
Hold them close to your heart  
Cause we're all a part  
Of the ordinary miracle."  
-Ordinary Miracle, Sarah McLachlan

* * *

Samantha winced and inhaled sharply as a flurry of activity in her stomach nearly took her breath away. A single, powerful kick below the ribs caused her to grimace and lay a hand on the area and issuing a plea to her unborn son to take it easy in there. Her internal organs were not soccer balls and these love kicks and taps were damn painful at times.

Yet she wouldn't give all the discomfort and sleepless nights and excessive heart burn and exhaustion up for anything in the world. The miracle of life had been achieved and a beautiful, innocent new life was flourishing and growing inside of her. She was amazed every day at the sheer wonder of what was taking place. It had been more than a month since she'd been through hell and back and feared she was going to lose their baby, and there'd been no looking back once she'd left the hospital. She'd been in for a week and showed no complications from the surgery.

After another week recuperating at home under the watchful, protective and loving eyes of her parents, they'd gone back to Arizona and Sam had returned to work. At first she hadn't been too thrilled at the thought of being Mac's secretary. He preferred to call it a mixture between a personal assistant and a liaison between the lab, the department and the public. But as she settled into her own office and she worked closely alongside of her boss -learning more from just watching and listening to him than school could ever teach her- she found herself actually enjoying organizing his hectic schedule and keeping his paper work and files in order and running the occasional errand downstairs to the ME's office.

What she enjoyed most was the hours. Strictly eight to four every day. Monday to Friday. Occasionally she snuck a few hours in on the weekend and caught up on work from home. With the money from both Zack's estate and the successful sale of the house in Phoenix now in the back, financial troubles were behind them. At least for the moment. She had paid off her own student loans as well as Adam's. She'd abolished all credit card debt on both her and Flack's part.

She'd bought the earrings for Stella that she had seen at Tiffany's months ago and had given Speed enough money to put a sizable amount on the new Ducati he planned on purchasing in the spring. Hawkes had been the beneficiary of an expensive set of medical journals Sam had come across in her visit to an antique store. Danny and Erica she'd sent on a week trip to Florida. And Mac was now the proud owner of a golden retriever puppy he had name Sable. She was twelve weeks old and ate him and Stella out of house and home and drank out of the toilet and slept on the bed at their week and snored like a human. But Mac adored her and no one had ever seen him that engrossed in anything outside of work.

Since Flack had moved in officially almost three weeks ago, Carmen had been spending the majority of her time at Speed's. She knew that after the ordeal they had had, Sam and Flack needed, and deserved privacy. The opportunity to grow as a couple. As a family. Flack had found out shortly after he returned to work following Sam's operation that he'd been placed on the promotion grid and would be taking the Sargeant's exam in the middle of December. Things were slowly and steadily coming together. Personal wise, their relationship had never been stronger. It was based on mutual love and respect and trust. They communicated more and felt closer together following the scare with the baby. All wedding plans had been completed. Not that there was much, but the wedding bands had been purchased and the judge booked and outfits picked out and paid for and three days off at Christmas guaranteed for both of them.

Sam sat on the couch. Her legs stretched out and her feet placed on a pillow on top of the coffee table. Wearing a teal coloured satin tunic style blouse that tied around the back and a pair of black maternity dress pants. At almost six and a half months, she was carrying large and all out front and low. A neighbour had commented that all women who were expecting boys carried that exact same way. Sam didn't know if that was true or just an old wives tale. All she knew was that the next two and a half months could not come soon enough. She was ready to go. More out of excitement than discomfort.

It was quarter to six in the evening. Outside it was already dark and blustery. Winter was fast approaching. Inside the heat was cranked and she felt warm and cozy as she sat there watching a movie and eating the remains of a salad that had come with the pasta dinners Flack had brought with him on the way home from work.

"What's in this gift bag?" Flack called from the bedroom.

"It's from Danny," Sam responded. "He said he was out and saw an outfit for Kieran he couldn't resist. I haven't even opened it yet. Go ahead and see what it is."

She heard the crinkling of the gift bag and than the rustling of tissue paper. Followed by her future husband chuckling to himself.

"What's so funny?" she asked. "It's not one of those horrid fluffy bunny costumes is it?"

"No," Flack assured her, and joined her in the living room, holding a tiny, long sleeved black onesie to his chest. Facing away from her. "Check this out," he said, and turned the outfit around for her to see.

Written on the front, in red letters, was LOCK UP YOUR DAUGHTERS.

Sam laughed. "Leave it to Danny," she said.

Flack plopped down alongside of her and held the onesie to her rounded stomach. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "Might be too small for him already."

"Screw you!" she said jokingly and elbowed him playfully. "Stop making fun of my big belly. Thanks to you, I've already put on nearly forty pounds."

"Thanks to me?"

"Yeah…thanks to you and your demon sperm."

He smiled and laid his hand lightly on her tummy and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. He was amazed by her. By the whole pregnancy. It was fascinating watching her grow larger with child. His child. It was magical being able to feel his son kick and squirm in earnest now. Sam possessed a beautiful, almost angelic glow to her. Both she and Kieran were healthy and she was the happiest she'd been in a long time.

"I think you're beautiful," he told her.

"I think you're mental," she said. "I never pictured you to a guy that gets turned on by pregnant women."

"It's not just random pregnant women," Flack corrected her. "Only one. You. You're the only one that's having my baby. That's what makes the whole thing incredibly sexy. Knowing that I played a part in getting you into the condition you are. That's what turns me on."

"Well than you best be sitting on the other side of the room because there's no time for that. We have to leave in half an hour."

"I know," he said with a dramatic sigh. "What are you watching?"

"The Notebook. I was in the mood for some romance."

"Haven't we watched that about a dozen times?" he asked in dismay.

"I've watched in half a dozen times. You've fallen asleep half way through six times."

"'Cause it's a chick flick. Now put something on where there's lots of blood shed and swearing and you've got my attention."

"Don't you get enough of that in real life?" she asked. "You see that every day at work."

"Yeah…but it's nice to watch something that you're not personally involved in. Watch something where the characters are even more fucked up than you are. Makes me glad that there's someone out there with crappier problems than me. It's nice to realize things could always be a hell of a lot worse."

"That's a damn scary thought," Sam said. "Considering the last few months we've had."

He nodded in agreement and rubbed her stomach in slow, smooth circles. Turned his head to the side and smiled at her. "But we made it," he said. "The three of us. We made it and we can make it through anything. Me, you, and…" he laughed as the baby issued a strong, sharp kick to his hand. "Our future soccer star in there."

"I just wish he'd lay off my ribs and my bladder," Sam said, grimacing. "That does not tickle. Nor does that!" she nearly shrieked when another blow caught her in the area of her navel. "Calm your son down, Donald. Tell him to behave himself. He's abusing me here. You're the voice of authority in this family."

Flack leaned over and placed a hand on either side of her stomach and his nose to her navel. "Listen Kieran," he said in that deep, authoritative voice. "Be a good boy. Your mom's gone through enough hell. Take it easy on her. I'll even buy you a car when you're eighteen if you're nice."

Another strong kick to area below his left hand, followed by a very pronounced rolling motion.

"He's into the bribery already," Sam laughed. "I think he's settling down for a nap. You just know he'll take you up on that and be expecting a BMV."

"Ferrari all the way," Flack said, and pressed a kiss to her stomach. "Good boy," he said to his son. "Take it easy for awhile and than keep her up all night like you've done three nights in a row."

"God, don't give him any ideas," Sam moaned.

Their son was proving to be a bit of a nighthawk. Three nights in a row, starting at eleven thirty and finally stopping at three thirty, Kieran had done nothing but move around. Not the frantic, out of control movements that doctors said could indicate he was in distress, but steady, normal movements and kicking that made it impossible for Sam to sleep. She had grown accustomed to sleeping on her side with a pillow between her knees, and she slept with her stomach pressed to Flack's back. The activity inside of her had been so intense it had even woken him up.

"I was thinking," Flack said, sitting up. "We should really buy the rest of the things he needs now. We're close to seven months and it's making me nervous that we don't have things finished yet."

"We've got all the furniture we need," Sam reminded him. "And a closet full of clothes and an unbelievable amount of toys."

"I know. But we don't have a stroller yet. That thing you mentioned a long time ago. At Toys R Us. The thing with the car seat."

"Travel system."

"Yeah. We don't have that or a baby bag or a monitor or a diaper thing or a bassinet or a play pen or high chair."

"Slow down, Donnie," she laughed. "He won't be using a high chair for a while. And we live in an apartment and I don't see the reason in an apartment to have a monitor."

"Are you kidding? I wanna be able to hear him at all times. See him even. I was thinking getting this one monitor here…" leaning forward, Flack grabbed a Babies R Us catalogue resting on the coffee table and flipped it open to a page he'd personally marked. "It's called an Angel Care Monitor," he told Sam, showing her the picture. "It comes with this sensor pad that sits under the sheet of the mattress and sets up a warning if it senses the baby has stopped breathing or moving. And it also comes with a little camera that sits in the crib or on it somewhere and broadcasts the picture to a monitor that we can keep with us."

She frowned and arched an eyebrow. "You're joking, right?"

"Seriously. It says right here that that's what it does."

"No. I mean, you're kidding. About wanting something like that."

Flack shrugged. "I just figured if we need a monitor than we might as well go all out and get one that does everything."

"Donnie, we don't need a monitor. Of any kind. We live in a small two bedroom apartment with paper thin walls. We'll be able to hear him stirring and crying in his room even if we're out here or in the kitchen. He's going to make noise. There's no way we'll be able to miss him."

"But what if he's throwing up and choking on it and we don't hear it?" Flack countered.

"You can hear someone throwing up. Even a baby."

"Wouldn't you just like to have it for extra security? I mean, if he makes a noise we can just check him on the screen and see if he's okay instead of going into the room and checking on him and running the risk of waking him up completely."

"I just find having a video camera on our baby a little creepy," Sam said. "A little too voyeuristic for me. I don't mind just a regular old monitor, but nothing that extravagant or obsessive."

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "We'll just get a basic one. But personally, that other one is pretty cool."

She grinned. "You just wanted it because it's a little toy for yourself," she said with a laugh.

"I will neither admit or deny that," he said, flipping the catalogue closed and tossing it on the coffee table. He yawned and stretched noisily. "If I can't get that, I think I'll go and buy myself a Wii."

"If that's what you want," Sam told him. "But I hate for you to spend all that money and not have time to use it because you're swamped with taking care of a newborn and working."

Flack smirked. "That was so subtle, Samantha."

"What?" she asked innocently, struggling to get off the couch.

He stood and held out a hand and helped her to her feet and picked up her dirty dishes. "That was a sly way I've telling me there's no way in hell you're going to let me buy something like that."

"I would never, ever even suggest you can't buy something you really want," Sam told him, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, watching as he rinsed her plates and laid them in the sink to be cleaned later.

"But…."

"But we already have an Xbox and a Game Cube and you have a PSP. Why do we need a Wii?"

He shrugged. "Because Danny and your brother have one."

"That's it Don, follow the cool crowd," she teased. "And I was just gently reminding you that it's going to be tough work for both of us when Kieran finally gets here. I know you're taking a couple weeks off, but you're going to feel it when you do go back to work. And let's face it. Danny and Adam have all the time in the world for a Wii and whatever else toys they buy. Neither of them have kids."

"I know," he said and sighed. "But a Wii could essentially be a benefit for all of us."

"Yeah? How?"

"Look how physical people are playing some of the games. We could get some of the real challenging ones and you could lose all that baby weight in no time. And I could shed the sympathy pounds I've managed to put on."

She smiled. "I love how you try and reason with me."

He came to the doorway and laid his hands on her hips and kissed her. "One more toy won't hurt," he told her. "I can even buy you a couple toys if you want." he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"You're dirty!" she scolded him, slapping his chest and pulling away from him. "I'm going to brush my teeth and than we can leave."

"I can you know," he said as she headed from the kitchen. "I don't mind. Buying you stuff like that. We can incorporate it in somewhere."

"You do your job just fine, Don," she responded. "And anyways, who says I don't keep my toys secretly hidden from you so when you're working nights I'm not lonely."

He smirked. "Damn, Samantha. Don't hold out on me. That I would kill to see."

"Sorry," she laughed. "It's just for me."

He sighed dramatically.

"And for you to fantasize about," she added, the bathroom door clicking shut behind her.

Flack grinned broadly.

Their sex life would never be boring. And that was more than fine with him.

* * *

Danny Messer, his ass parked in an rickety metal chair in half circle taken up by twelve other men with note books and pens in hand, glanced around at the cold, white brick walls that surrounded the group. The fluorescent lights beaming down from the high ceiling. The small room, located in the basement of the YMCA, was no more comfortable and welcoming than one of the interrogation rooms at work.

At the front, a heavy set, slightly balding man in an argyle sweater and corduroy pants was plugging in a DVD/TV combo. Moments before, he'd come in with a fold-able presentation board that he'd parked in an empty chair and handfuls of pamphlets and pads of paper and pens he'd dropped on a second chair.

"I don't know, Flack," Danny said, glancing at his best friend who sat next to him, sipping a take out cup of coffee. "When you said a guy's night out, this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking a few beers, some greasy food, a game playing on the tv and a few games of pool. Not this."

"I bought you Starbucks," Flack responded. "Isn't that enough expensive for tonight?"

"This is just…I don't know…this is just weird…a parenting class? I ain't expecting a baby. Why am I here? Unless you know something about Erica that I don't."

"I needed some kind of moral support," the detective said. "When they said last week we'd be doing a dads only class and watching birthing videos and what not, I knew I couldn't get through it alone."

"So I'm here to hold your hand and the puke bucket when things get too intense," Danny teased, and picking up his coffee cup from the floor, took a long sip.

"Exactly," Flack agreed. "This is what to expect during labour and how to help your partner manage the pain without needing medical relief. And for Sam, that's the big thing. That tattoo on her back, as sexy as it is, means no epidural. So I need to be able to help her deal with the contractions naturally."

Danny laughed. "Knocking her out cold is the way to go."

"I've considered it," Flack said. "But she was against it."

"Good evening, gentlemen," the man in the argyle sweater stood in front of the small group and spoke in a loud, commanding voice. "My name is Robert Perkins. I'm with the YMCA and I teach parenting and birthing classes. Specializing in dads only sessions. I have six kids myself so I have been through child birth many, many times."

"Six kids?" Danny whispered to Flack, whose eyes widened and he whistled lowly at the number. "Who in the hell in their right mind has six kids this day and age? You and Sam gonna have that many?"

Flack held up four fingers. "That's the cut off," he said.

"Four? That's only two away from half a dozen! What is wrong with you?"

"The first thing we will do," Perkins continued. "Is fill out name tags and than introduce ourselves to the group."

"Feels like AA," Danny commented, as a stack of name tags was passed around the group.

"How would you know?" Flack asked. "You a regular?"

"Want me to be your sponsor?" Danny retorted.

"You wound me, Messer," Flack said, scrawling just his last name on the tag before affixing it to his chest.

"Come on," his friend snorted. "Ya gotta put Don or Donnie on there." Reaching over, he wrote DON on top of the Flack and Jr underneath the last name.

"You're a shit," Flack complained. Than listened, with feigned interest, as the men in the group around him introduced themselves and gave brief synopsis' of their lives. There was a couple of cabbies, a jail guard, a bus driver, a sanitation worker and two accountants before him. "My name's Flack," he said when it was his turn. "And I'm a homicide detective."

Eyes widened. Heads nodded.

"And I'm Danny and I'm just here for the free snacks," the CSI said, getting a chuckle from the entire group. "Seriously, I'm a crime scene investigator and I'm here because the detective here is my best friend and he can't stomach this kind of thing and he needs someone to pick him up off the ground when he faints."

"Trust me gentlemen," Perkins said. "Child birth is not that bad."

Flack snorted. "Yeah…right…" he muttered.

Sam, who was in the next room with Carmen working on breathing techniques and relaxation exercises, had forced him to watch A Baby Story on The Learning Channel many a time. And while the show didn't show anything explicit from the waist down, the sounds of the women screaming and crying in sheer agony had both horrified and nauseated him. And the shocked, disgusted and terrified looks on their partners' faces had been enough to firmly argue his reasons for not wanting to be in the delivery room.

"Last week in the partners class, I know that you all learned about the first stage of labour," Perkins continued, referring to a note pad in his hands. "To recap, the first stage consists of three distinct phases. The latent phase which is the longest and least painful. Where the cervix can stretch and thin out over a period and the woman feel very little to no contractions whatsoever. Than, there's the active phase , which is marked by strong, painful contractions that tend to occur around three or four minutes apart and last up to a minute or so. The cervix dilates to around 7cm," he paused as the majority of men furiously took notes.

"And than the third and final phase, transition. The contractions become more intense, painful and frequent. It may feel like the contractions are no longer separate but running into each other. The cervix may take around an hour or so to dilate the final 3cm. It is not unusual to feel a strong urge to go to the toilet as the baby's head pushes against the rectum."

"This is why guys can't give birth," Flack declared with a shudder. "'Cause the thought of anything pushing against my rectum, well that would do me in."

"Wimp," Danny said. "I gotta question," he announced, jumping to his feet and hurrying up to the front of the room to grab a pad of paper and a pen. If Flack wasn't going to take things seriously enough to take notes, he was going to do it.

"Questions are always welcome," Perkin enthused.

Danny sat back down and uncapped the pen and set to writing things down. "Now you're talking about the cervix thinning out and stuff like that in this latent phase. Now what if there's incompetent cervix involved? Stitches holding things together and what not. What happens with all that?"

"Well the stitches should be removed at thirty six weeks," the instructor replied.

"Yeah…yeah..but say she goes into labour before the stitches come out? What than?"

"The cervix will thin out and weaken and the pressure of the baby moving into the birth canal and the membranes rupturing should open things up."

"Will it hurt her of the baby?" Danny asked.

"It would be terribly painful, but no. It wouldn't harm her or the baby."

Danny hurriedly jotted everything down. "Okay…thanks…"

"You're a freak," Flack told his best friend.

"The second stage begins when the cervix dilates to around ten centimetres," Perkins said. "The contractions should now be regular and spaced apart, so that your partner can relax between them as best as she can. As each contraction builds to a peak, she may feel the urge to bear down and push. The sensation of the baby moving through the vagina is described as a stretching or burning, particularly as the baby's head crowns. This means the appearance of the head at the vaginal entrance. Once the head has emerged, the delivery staff will turn the body to deliver the shoulders. The rest of the baby will then slip out. The second stage of labour typically lasts around 15 minutes to one hour."

"Fifteen minutes," Flack nodded in approval. "That's what I'm hoping for. Fifteen minutes and that's it. Perfect."

"Couple pushes and boom, done," Danny chimed in.

"The third stage is the delivery of the placenta," the instructor told the small class. "It usually happens between five to thirty minutes afterwards, although there's a small percentage of women whose uterus' fail to deliver and surgery is required."

"That'll be Sam," Flack said. "Just watch. Nothing else has gone normal. She'll be difficult and give me a heart attack by needing another operation. Nothing's ever easy with her."

Videos came next. Educational movies showing women giving birth. The final stages of birth, to be exact. Flack couldn't believe the amount of blood and gore that could accompany something that people often called the most beautiful, amazing thing in the world to see. Watching your child be ushered into the world should be a calming, out of the world experience, not something with enough nastiness to rival any horror movie out there.

He cleared his throat noisily and turned away, his forearm over his mouth as he fought back bile. A couple of the other expectant fathers grimaced and looked away briefly, but beside Flack, Danny Messer was wide eyed in interest as he took extensive notes.

Perkins paused the video. "After your son or daughter is delivered, if there are no complications or worries, they will be placed on their mother's chest for brief bonding. The nurse will than take the baby and ask you if you would like to cut the cord."

"What's that like?" Danny asked. "Does it hurt the baby?"

"It's like cutting through a stiff rubber hose," Perkins answered. "And no it doesn't hurt the baby. The baby will than be measured and weighed and have its vitals checked. If the baby is given a clean bill of health, they will be wrapped in blanket and brought to the parents. Some mothers actually breastfeed for the first time in the delivery room."

"What if you're planning a water delivery?" Danny inquired.

"Same procedures will apply. Afterwards, comes the third stage…" Perkins pressed play on the television once again. "The delivery of the placenta."

Flack glanced back at the screen and instantly regretted it. He physically wretched and looked away. "Oh my fucking God," he said, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee to fight back a wave of nausea. "That's just plain fucking nasty. I will take a body in full decomp or a floater that's been in the water for a week over that any day."

"You're such a pussy," Danny declared. "You're never going to last the delivery. You'll either loss your stomach contents halfway through or faint. Or both."

"I can't watch that, Dan-o. I can't. I can't see that. See Sam go through all that pain and suffering and than the baby come out looking like that. And the placenta…I can't do it. I'm not going to do it."

"How you going to get out of it? 'Cause Sam will kill you if you even think about wimping out. And come on, it's not that bad. It's amazing and fascinating."

"You think it's that great, you go in with her," Flack said.

"I'd love to go in and see that. You clear if with her, and I'll play daddy for the whole thing. No problem. Can't believe you. Big, bad, mean homicide detective can't handle child birth? Come on."

"You come on. That's just plain gross and you can't tell me it's not."

Danny shrugged. "Not any worse than some of the things I've seen down on Hammerback's table. And at least this is a human life being brought into the world. Not one that was brutally taken out."

"I'll tell you what," Flack said. "You talk Sam into it and you can go in with her instead of me."

"She'll kill you," Danny declared. "Besides, you'll change your mind."

Flack doubted it. And even a slow painful death seemed a better fate than having to watch THAT.

* * *

"This is too weird even for me," Carmen declared, as she sat behind Samantha, a pillow between the two women as her best friend rested against it, legs bent at the knee and wide open.

"Seems more like a sex position than one for giving birth," Sam commented. "I mean, you can have a little bit of foreplay sitting like this."

"You are nothing but one big walking pregnant ball of hormones," Carmen laughed.

"It's gotten even worse in the past three weeks," Sam said.

"Poor Flack. Or should I say lucky Flack."

"Lucky. Very, very lucky. He's never been happier, trust me."

"You know, as much as I don't mind doing this stuff," Carmen said, as she and Sam continued practicing breathing techniques. "I hope it doesn't actually come down to the point where I need to put this stuff to use."

"Anything could happen," Sam reasoned. "The way things have been going, you'll probably end up physically delivering the baby."

"Jesus Christ, Ross," Carmen moaned. "Bite your tongue. I have to try the friendship line somewhere."

"I can't imagine even doing these things during labour," Sam said. "All these weird breathing exercises and stuff. I think by that time I'll be in so much pain that I won't remember anything we learned here. I was like that in college, you know. I'd study and study for a final and when I actually sat down to write the damn thing, I froze and all the information deserted me."

"Well don't say that, because if Flack does has terrible as we are all expecting him to, we at least need you to be in control. And this whole epidural thing.."

"My dad always said I'd regret getting a tattoo. And slowly but surely, I am proving him right yet again. Damn that man for always being the practical, sensible one. Did I tell you the news? About Adam and Gus?"

"Outside of their engagement you mean?" Carmen asked. "What? Don't tell me she's pregnant too. What is going on over at the lab? Is there something in the water? All the engagements. Things come in threes, you know. So there's going to be more pregnant women soon."

"Well it's not Gus," Sam responded. "Not that I know of. I meant the news about how things went so well between her and my parents."

"Really?" Carmen arched an eyebrow. "You mean the Sarge didn't come down heavy handed on her like he did Flack?"

"Sarge loves her. To pieces. And Gus adores him. Can you believe that? I almost shit when Adam told me how well they got along at dinner that night they all went out. Joking around and hogging the conversation. I think Adam was shocked. Because Sarge never likes any one we're dating. I expected him to be a least a little bit nasty. Maybe he's getting old and softening up."

"Something tells me that his grandson in there is what's softening him up," Carmen said.

"Well whatever it is, it's a welcome change. They're even heading to Arizona for Thanksgiving."

"That's something we haven't talked about," Carmen told her best friend. "Thanksgiving. It's quickly approaching. Did you and Flack make plans to go to Mac and Stella's with the rest of the team or are you guys doing a more quiet, personal thing?"

"Don has to work," Sam replied. "Not ifs, ands, or buts. But I might go to Mac's thing. If I'm feeling up to it. Sid and his wife invited me over too. So I'm not sure where I'm going to head."

"Sid?" Carmen asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sam nodded. Since the incident in the hospital when Sid had leant her the good luck quartz rock, he had become somewhat of a surrogate uncle to her. He came up every day on his lunch break to accompany her down to the cafeteria to get something to eat or brought her food right to her office. They'd sit together and Sid would tell her about his family and his various ex wives and stories about being an ME. Sam would talk about growing up in Brooklyn and spending her older years in Phoenix. She stayed away from conversation that dealt with her birth father. And Sid never pushed her or bombarded her with questions and she appreciated that.

The invitation to Thanksgiving dinner had both surprised her and flattered her. The offer was extended to both her and Flack, even though he and Sid barely knew each other and had very little uncommon other than working around dead bodies on a daily basis. Sid had mentioned many a time that his wife would love to meet them both. That she loved babies and had some clothes and toys that she had picked out for them and wouldn't cough up unless it was a face to face meeting.

Sam liked the idea of spending the holiday with the Hammerbacks. Sid was quirky, no doubt about it. But he was highly intelligent and well spoken and had a heart of gold. And his wife sounded incredible, as did his daughters who would also be there. It definitely appeared as if she'd been spending Turkey Day, as Adam called it, surrounded by strangers. And that was okay.

"Sid and his wife invited Don and I," Sam explained to her friend. "Don can't make it, but I'm considering going. Tim's not taking you up to Syracuse to meet his aunt and uncle?"

"They're going to Turks and Caicos," Carmen responded.

"Lucky them," Sam said with a sigh. "Even a trip to Phoenix to see my folks is out of the question. My doctor would shoot me for even considering it."

"Well we don't want you popping early at thirty five thousand feet," Carmen laughed, as helped her friend sit up as the breathing exercise part of the class came to a close.

"I'll just be glad when it's over," Sam said, rubbing her stomach. "It's really starting to drag on now. I never realized how slow nine months actually go. I'm almost hoping he decides to make an appearance ahead of schedule."

"You're three quarters of the way there," Carmen told her. "Not to much longer. It will go by before you know it."

Sam sure as hell hoped so.

* * *

After the parenting classes drew to a close, the four headed to Sullivan's to grab a bite to eat. Danny wanted to have a couple of drinks before heading home. Play some pool and shoot a couple games of darts. Erica was on nights yet again and he hated the thought of going home to an empty house.

Sam felt awkward being six and a half months pregnant and in a bar. Patrons stared at her in disapproval, as if they expected her to start pounding back shots and downing pitchers of beer even in her state. Sensing her discomfort, Frankie, the usual bartender, had presented her with a button that read I'm the Designated Driver that she now sported on her blouse.

"So what's this I heard about Max failing the department physical?" Danny asked Flack, as the latter sipped ice water while they shot a game of pool.

"Word around the precinct is that she crapped out on the circuit. You remember that, Messer. Having to run it in four minutes and twenty eight seconds. Including scaling walls and apprehending and successfully subduing a suspect two hundred pounds or more. You passed it in what?"

"Three minutes, fifteen," Danny said, sipping rye and coke. "What were you?"

"Three six."

Danny shook his head and whistled lowly.

"I also have about six inches and forty pounds up on you, Messer," Flack pointed out. "I guess Max couldn't get it done in time and she's going to be riding a desk until she can pass it. It's hard shit. I'm surprised she even passed the first time around to be honest. And I'm not saying that to mean. Just considering her health issues and all, it's almost a damn miracle she got through it."

Danny nodded in agreement.

"I mean, Sam just beat it by ten seconds when the department made her take it when Mac hired her. Her issue was scaling the wall. Happens when you're big enough to hoola hoop through a cheerio."

"Mighty mouse," Danny laughed. "That's what Speed's been calling her lately. She's going to blow you away when it comes time to deliver this kid, Flack. She's going to amaze you, trust me."

"Still not going in the room," the detective said.

"Quit being such a baby. You can't tell me you don't want to see your son born. It's amazing. Once in a lifetime thing."

"We plan on having other kids, Messer. God willing."

"But it's your first born," Danny argued. "That's more special than any others. Each one is special, don't get me wrong, but there's something more magical about it being your first."

Flack sighed heavily. "I'll think about it," he said. "In the mean time, quit yakking my ear off and take your shot."

Danny saluted his best friend playfully. "All ready acting like a boss," he complained, and moved around the table to eye up his shot. "Few more weeks and you'll be Detective Sargeant Flack."

"Hope so," Flack sighed. "Thought for sure after I fucked up during that raid that I'd end up a security guard somewhere."

"Never going to happen," Danny said. "You reacted, plain and simple. Thought your life was in danger and you did what you felt you had to, to save yourself. Nothing wrong with that. You felt like shit when you killed that guy during the Wilder raid, too."

Flack nodded. "Never easy to take a life, Messer," he said quietly.

"No. But when it's your own threatened, or the life of someone you love, there should be no hesitation. Think about what you'd do if someone came after Sam or your kid. You'd go crazy. And you know what? No one would ever blame you for that. Trust me, people would understand. Some people go crazy with rage when their wives and kids are threatened. You're the type."

"Not good to think with your heart and not your head," Flack said.

"Come on, that's not Donald Flack Jr talking," Danny told his best friend. "That's Donald Flack Sr talking. You're your own man. You don't have to live up to his name or his standards. You've already achieved a hell of a lot more just by being a decent human being."

Danny took his shot, frowning as the five ball missed in the corner pocket.

"Losing your touch, Messer," Flack commented, taking a sip of water before checking out his options on the pool table.

"You ever hear from him since that night?" Danny asked, perching himself on a nearby stool.

Flack shook his head. "I don't expect to," he replied. "And honestly, after the things he said, I'd probably knock him out if I was to run into him."

"'Cause I shouldn't be telling ya that he showed up at the precinct looking for ya when Sam was in the hospital."

Flack looked up in surprise just as he took a shot. "He what?"

Danny chalked up the head of his pool cue. "I was down there filing out some paper work and he came sauntering in like he owned the place looking for you. Everyone was out there, brass wise, kissing his ass like the King of the World just walked through the door. I guess you brother's been in some trouble and he was hoping you could help out."

Flack frowned. "You talked to him?"

"Briefly. He's the same asshole as he's always been. I told him you were at the hospital with Sam. Problems with the baby."

"And he said?"

"Don't think I should tell ya that, Flack," Danny said.

"I already expect some prick comment," the detective said. "So don't be shy."

Danny sighed. "He said it served ya right for being so disrespectful and ruining your career for some two bit whore you knocked up with your bastard child."

Flack snorted and shook his head. Not surprised in the least. What did surprise him was how hurt he felt about the comment.

"I told him to take his ass on out the door before I dragged him out and schooled him in the finer art of getting his ass kicked," Danny said. "That he doesn't know Sam and it's a good thing for her that she doesn't. 'Cause she deserves a hell of a lot better than to have to deal with a bitter, pig headed old man."

Flack grinned. Just picturing Danny going toe to toe with his old man.

"Told him you were happy," Danny continued. "And that if anything, Sam changed you for the better. And that you were a better cop and a man than he could ever hope to be, and that you were going to be a hell of a father and husband."

Flack smiled. "What did he say?"

"Told me to mind my own business or he'd knock my smart mouth clean off my face," Danny said and shrugged. "Not the first time I've been threatened and it won't be the last. I don't know what's up with your brother getting in trouble still."

"Probably has something to do with abusing his wife or the bottle," Flack said. "Or both. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"And one bad apple doesn't spoil the bunch," Danny pointed out. "And you're taking it upon yourself to make sure you don't go that way. And that's admirable. Takes a big man to admit he needs help. I applaud you for that."

"Didn't want to go that way," Flack said. "Didn't want my own wife and kid scared of me. Respect me, but not frightened of me. It's like you can beat a dog and they stick by your side. But it's not respect they look at you with. It's fear. And I don't ever want Sam looking at me that way. And I've come close to seeing that in her, and it killed me. And I know it's in me to go that extra step to have her too terrified to leave. And that disgust me. I don't want to be that way. I can't be that way."

"You won't be," Danny assured him. "You'll make sure of that."

Flack nodded.

"And besides," the CSI said, leaning over the table to sink a shot. "If you ever did hurt her, I'd kill you and hide the body where no one would ever, ever find it."

Flack grinned. "I wouldn't put it past you, Messer."

"Good," Danny said. "Now shut up and let's play some pool."

* * *

It was close to midnight when Sam and Flack had arrived home. They'd dropped Danny off and taken Carmen back to Speed's and than had stopped at McDonalds to get one of the Smartie flurries that Sam coveted so much.

Sam headed into the bathroom to clean herself up and get into her pyjamas while Flack checked the headlines on CNN and the sports scores and to make himself a coffee before locking every thing up and heading to bed himself.

He thought about what he and Danny had talked about. About his father showing up at the precinct and having his ass kissed despite being a major prick. About his brother being in trouble and still being the golden son in his old man's eyes. And about the cruel, vicious words that had come out of Sr's mouth regarding his unborn grandson.

Flack was grateful for Danny Messer. They were as different as night and day. In every possible way. Background, appearance, personality and attitude. Yet they were closer than most family members. He knew that despite their differences and occasional blow outs, he could always count on Danny to have his back. Through thick and thing. Not many people had friendships like that. And Flack valued and appreciated it.

Sam came wandering out into the living room, yawning noisily and buttoning the top on her flannel pyjamas. Off white with pink, blue and green snowflakes. Bubblegum pink fluffy slippers on her feet and a head band keeping her bangs off her forehead. Carrying the cordless phone.

Flack had a warm glass of milk waiting on the coffee table for her. It had become a nightly ritual since her release from the hospital after he'd read that warm milk was calming for some women and babies in utero. They were still waiting for it to have an affect on Kieran.

She sat down on the couch and kissed his cheek in appreciation. "You have a message," she said, holding out the phone. "From Gerrard. He left it about an hour ago and he wants you to calm him as soon as you get home. Regardless of the time."

Flack frowned. "What's it about?" he asked.

She shrugged. "He sounded like Gerrard. Serious and straight to the point."

Flack suspected it had to do with his old man showing up and his brother being in trouble. He took the phone and placed the call to his superior's cell phone.

Gerrard answered after three rings.

"Detective Flack," he said by way of greeting. "We have a small issue."

"And what's that?" Flack asked.

"An old case. From when you were still a uniform. The last call before you came a detective."

"That's a long time ago," Flack told his boss. "I need a little more information than that."

"An abusive scum bag boyfriend that worked over his girlfriend whose now a CSI. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about now. Sonofabitch is up for parole. Hearing's in a couple weeks."

"Can you give me a moment, sir?" Flack asked, covering the end of the phone with the palm of his hand and leaning across the couch to give Sam a kiss on the temple. "I'll be right back," he told her, and moved to the kitchen to continue his call.

He didn't want her to hear about it. Not until he had a chance to tell her himself. The whole story. Not just bits and pieces during a phone call.

"You there, Flack?" Gerrard asked.

"When did this come up?" the detective asked.

"Message just crossed my desk a few hours ago. I wanted to give you a heads up before it was just dropped in your lap when you got in in the morning. You're going to need to go down to records and get the old case files and evidence box and go through them. Refresh your memory about that night.'

Flack didn't need his memory refreshed. He remembered every detail very clearly. The massively battered and bloody woman. The trashed apartment. The irate, uncontrollable boyfriend. It had taken four uniforms and an off duty cop named Danny Messer to successfully calm and arrest the man.

It had been in the back of his mind for nearly nine years.

Until Carmen Devine had walked into his crime scene months ago. Her first day on the job. Knowing glances had been exchanged between them, but neither had mentioned the incident that fateful, near tragic night.

And now, in the midst of happiness and calm and serenity, Matthew Stobbard was back to haunt them.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone of you!! Even all you lurkers!!**


	89. Digging up the past

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN**

**Digging up the Past**

"Voices tell me I should carry on  
But I am swimming in an ocean all alone  
Baby, my baby  
It's written on your face  
You still wonder if we made a big mistake  
I tried to go on like I never knew you  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete  
I don't mean to drag it on,  
but I can't seem to let you go  
I don't wanna make you face this world alone  
I wanna let you go."  
-Incomplete, Backstreet Boys

* * *

At eight the next morning, Flack found himself pacing the expanse of marble floor surrounding the property clerk's office in the basement of One Police Plaza. He'd had a shitty night's sleep and was in a pretty foul mood. Not only had Sam kept him up with her incessant tossing and turning and complaints of agonizing heartburn and the fact that the baby would just not sit still, but he'd been nagged by the memory of what had happened almost eight years ago. The horrific, near fatal incident that had crossed his path with Carmen Devine's for the first time. When he was just a uniform responding to what would turn out to be his last call before becoming a detective. And Carmen was just a college kid studying for her masters.

Little did they know that their paths would cross again in a professional arena. When Carmen had walked onto his crime scene her first day on the job and Danny introduced them, a look of recollection had been shared between the two of them. It may have been years ago, but the memories were suddenly very fresh for both of them. Something about Carmen Devine and how broken and battered yet resilient she'd had been through the sheer hell she'd been put through had captivated a young Flack.

She'd spent nearly a month in the hospital and he'd gone to visit her as often as he could. They'd struck up an easy friendship and she was grateful to him for being there in time to stop Mathew and his rampage. Flack remained humble. It was him and Gavin Moran and three others uniforms who had finally managed to subdue the out of control young man. Whatever the kid had been on, he'd had the strength of ten of them and was damn well determined to finish what he started.

They had gone out for coffee a few times after her release from the hospital. It was never anything more than that. Just two new friends hanging out. Carmen was in no way ready to dive into a relationship with someone, and although he was attracted to her, Flack wasn't about to push something like that after what she had been through. She trusted him enough to let him into a small part of her personal space, and even that was a lot to ask. Eventually work commitments saw them going in two different directions and they never saw, or spoke, again.

No one, other than Danny, knew that Flack and Carmen had previously known each other. The others assumed that Carmen's first day on the job was the first time they had ever met. And it wasn't that Flack and Carmen were hiding anything from the rest of the team, and most importantly, Sam.

During the phone sex case, they'd had a discussion coming back from talking to the manager that things were probably best left in the past. It was a long time ago. A painful, horrible time in Carmen's life that she wasn't willing to re-live again. He accepted and respected that and kept his mouth shut. No sense living in the past. Especially when the present and the future looked damn good.

No one expected a crazy bastard like Mathew Stobbard to be up for parole. In all intents and purposes, he should have been charged with attempted murder, but a good defense attorney had been willing to cough up a guilty plea if the charges were brought down to aggravated assault, forcible confinement and resisting arrest. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the DA -whose name had long escaped Flack- had accepted and Mathew was sent to his new home for next fifteen years. Sing Sing Correctional Facility.

Apparently, good behaviour and playing nice with the inmates and being one of the guards' favourites had won over the parole board. It made Flack physically ill to think that a sonofabitch like that could be back out on the streets in a matter of weeks. Stobbard belonged somewhere with the likes of Zack. Burning in hell.

Flack checked his watch. It was quarter after eight. The property clerks office wasn't open for another fifteen minutes. He wondered when in the hell the place ever started implemented operating hours. Last time he'd been down there several months ago, someone was manning the booth twenty four-seven.

Just something else to piss me off, Flack thought, and abandoned his pacing in favour of taking a seat in the bank of crude metal and vinyl chairs across the hall. He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialled his home number. He wanted to make sure that Sam was up and ready for her ten thirty check up with the OB. It would be the first time he would be unable to make an appointment and he felt like shit about it. He had promised himself, and her, that he'd make it to every one. He didn't want to miss anything. But sometimes it was impossible to get away from the job, even for a break let alone a visit to the doctor, and Sam was far more understanding and accepting than he was. The only thing that made him feel slightly better was knowing that she wouldn't have to go alone. Adam had offered to take her and apparently was pretty damn excited about. Looking forward to hearing his unborn nephew's heartbeat.

"You woke me up," Sam grumbled in way of greeting.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty," he teased.

"I had my alarm set for nine," she informed him. "I still had another forty five minutes to go."

"That's only an hour and a half until your appointment. By the time you actually get out of bed and get ready and all that, that only leaves about half an hour to get there. And seeing as you walk just a bit slower and with a waddle…"

"Did you call to insult me, Detective?" she asked. By the tone of her voice he could tell she was taking the good natured teasing with a grain of salt. And that she had a smile on her face.

"I was just calling to check up on you guys," he replied. "Making sure you were up."

"Well I am now," she said.

"Sorry."

"I guess you're forgiven," she said with a sigh. "Your son on the other hand.."

"Still being a little shit, huh?"

"He didn't calm down until three thirty in the morning. And was right back at it again as soon as I opened my eyes and grabbed the phone. I'm sorry that things were so bad last night and you couldn't sleep. I should have just slept on the couch. You were pretty grumpy this morning when you left."

"I didn't even wake you up before I left," Flack said.

"That's my point. You always wake me up to say so long. And when you didn't, I figured you were probably pretty pissed that you didn't get very good sleep last night."

"I left you a note," Flack reminded her.

"I know…but still…"

"It wasn't just your fault, Sam," Flack told her. "I know how uncomfortable things are getting for you and that the baby likes to stay up and cause hell all night. But it wasn't just that…"

"Something to do with whatever Gerrard called you about last night?" she asked curiously.

He sighed. "A little bit," he admitted. "It's just an old case from when I was a uniform. I never expected this particular perp to ever be considered for parole. So I need to get the old case files and what not and go over them so I know what I'm talking about at the hearing."

"Was it really bad?" she asked. "The case?"

"Bad enough. Punk ass boyfriend laying a beating on his girlfriend. Nearly killed her. Defence offered up a guilty plea to aggravated assault and forcible confinement and resisting arrest. We had him on attempted murder and the fucking DA accepts the plea. Only sentenced to fifteen years. Can you believe that?"

"I've heard worse unfortunately," Sam said with a sigh. "There's a lot of asshole men out there that get off on stuff like that. I could name a couple, but we won't go there."

"No," Flack said. "We won't. But that's what was bugging my ass last night. And today. It wasn't just you tossing and turning and driving me nuts. And I'm sorry if I was a bit a jack ass about it all."

"You were," she admitted. "But it's okay. I forgive you."

He smiled. Across the hall, the metal gate was rolled up for the registration desk of the clerk's office and he stood up. "You make sure you eat breakfast," he said, heading across the hall. "I don't want you skipping meals like you've been doing lately. You and the baby need all the nutrients you can get. Okay? Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I'm listening, daddy," she teased.

"And please be careful getting in and out of the shower. You're starting to get a little top heavy and.."

She laughed. "Don, stop while you're ahead."

"I'm just saying that…"

"I know what you're saying. And two nights ago you were saying how much you liked them and doing dirty things to them."

"I wasn't saying I don't love them. I was just saying you need to be careful now that you can't see your feet because of your stomach and your boobs."

"On that happy thought, I am hanging up now and you can actually do some police work. I mean, that's what you do, right? You are a policeman are you not?"

"Detective, actually," he said with a grin.

"Smart ass," she responded.

"Can I help you?" the officer behind the desk asked as Flack stepped up to it.

Flack held up his hand for the guy to wait. "Call me?" he asked into the phone. "Let me know how things went?"

"It's just a check up, Donnie."

"Call me," he told her.

"I will," she promised. "I need to go and feed the monster."

"He gets all the evil DNA from you," Flack informed her.

Sam laughed. "Sure he does…"

"I'll let you go," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she told him, and hung up.

Flack pressed end and snapped his phone closed and slipped it into his pocket. "What?" he asked the grizzled uniform.

The guy was well past his prime and had probably long ago decided he couldn't hack it on the streets and didn't have the clout to climb the NYPD ladder. So he'd accepted a position in the basement as opposed to retiring earlier than expected.

"Very sweet," the uniform scoffed.

"Yeah? Mind your own business. What? Was I holding you up from sitting on your ass all day?"

"What do you want?"

"I need some old evidence," Flack said, pulling a folded piece of paper from his other pocket. He unfolded it and sat it on the desk. "My CO's name and signature is on it and everything."

The uniform looked at the paper. "Could take a couple of days," he said.

"I need it now," Flack told him.

"This evidence is almost nine years old!" the uniform argued.

"So? I'll wait. I have all day."

He sighed and slid off his stool and handed Flack a clipboard and a pen. "Fill this out…name, date, badge number…"

"I know the drill," Flack said and went back and sat in the chair across the hall.

The uniform stood behind the desk for several minutes, staring at the young detective.

"I can always come back and help you look if you want," Flack offered.

The other man simply shook his head and disappeared to find the evidence.

"I didn't think so," Flack mumbled, and set to work on the form resting in his lap.

* * *

Adam could barely contain his excitement. He hadn't had a shared day off with his sister since she'd started at the lab, and with their busy professional and personal lives, neither of them had been able to find the time in the past months to just hang out together. Grab some lunch and walk through Central Park and just talk like they used to. His sister was his closest and truest confidant. His best friend outside of Gus. And there were things that he could discuss and share with his sister that he'd never felt comfortable sharing with anyone else.

They had been through a lot together. Especially as kids. And the pain and suffering and torment had made them closer than many brothers and sisters. His sister meant the world to him. She had often put herself in harms way with their dad just to keep Adam safe. She was the one that got in between them when their dad was laying a beating on her younger brother. Interfering and attempting to defend Adam only made the beats Sam got even worse. But she was quick to come to his aid and did it time and time again to make things less severe for him.

He'd often wondered if his dad had ever done more than just beat Sam. He could clearly remember nights when he'd be lying in bed, terrified as he heard his father, drunk as a skunk, mumbling incoherently as he stumbled down the hall and into Sam's room. There'd been no noises after that, and twenty minutes later Sam would come out of her room with her pyjamas a little messed and sneak into Adam's and shake him awake and whisper, 'Shove over, peanut. Dad passed out in my room. I need a place to sleep.'

Adam could remember that as if it was yesterday. It didn't cross his mind very often now that he was older. He'd never asked Sam if their father had ever done anything sexual to her. He'd thought about finding a delicate way to bring it up, especially after they got out of New York City and started over again in Phoenix. But she always seemed happy and upbeat and didn't appear to be hiding anything that painful and traumatic from anyone. And he was sure, if something like that had have ever happened, she would have told him. Or somebody.

Or would she? He thought as he watched his older sister as she filled out forms at the reception desk at her doctor's office. Sam wasn't the type to just offer up that kind of information. She kept a lot of her childhood memories to herself. It was her way of dealing with things. But Adam was pretty sure that it had happened. He could remember those incidences with his father lasting for at least a couple of years. And maybe even longer when he was too young to care or even remember.

He felt sick to his stomach thinking about it. And he felt an immense rage that he'd never experienced before. That the man who had given them both life could do something so horrendous and disgusting to his own daughter.

"We can go in now, Peanut," Sam called to him, snapping her brother out of the trance he'd fallen into.

He smiled. And blushed a little. Other than Gus, Sam was the only one he could tolerate calling him by the pet name she'd bestowed on him many years ago. He gathered up their winter coats pilled on the chair beside him and stood up and headed over to where she waited at the entrance to small hallway that led to the exam rooms.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked. "You were a little spacey there for a second."

"I was just thinking about something," he replied, following her through the door and down the hall.

"What something?" she inquired.

"Work stuff," he told her. "The massive backlog in trace that I am just so excited to be away from for an entire day. You should have seen the look on Mac's face when I told him I needed the day off. He was not too impressed to say the least. I thought for a second he just may kill me."

"Mac's harmless," Sam said.

"You only think that's way because you're his favourite."

"Give me break," Sam laughed.

"You are definitely his pet. I don't see him making anyone else an office of their own and letting them into his personal space. He lets you go through his files and answer his phone calls. That is just not Mac. He even lets you book his personal appointments and gets you to send flowers and gifts to Stella. You've even picked up his dry cleaning. Mac doesn't let anyone get that close to him. I bet you even know his shirt size."

"He's a large with a sixteen neck," Sam said quickly.

"My point exactly! No one knows that stuff about Mac. He's a mystery to all of us. I think other than Stella, you know the most about him."

"Pays to be nosy, Peanut," Sam said. "And he's my boss. And he was gracious enough to find something for me to do as opposed to forcing me to go on sick leave. He was just being a nice guy. He does have a nice side to him. He's not just all gruff and hard ass and Marine Mac."

"I don't know about that," Adam mumbled, than caught the hard glare his sister gave him. "Well it's true! I've had a couple run ins with him and he was anything but nice. And I like Mac and he's a fair boss to work for, but I would not want to really piss him off and get on his bad side. I mean, he's capable of killing someone."

"We all are," Sam pointed out.

"But he can do it with his bare hands!" Adam cried.

"I promise you I will protect you if he ever comes after you," Sam teased, as the receptionist led them to an examination room. "And if anyone is his favourite, it's you."

"Yeah, right," Adam snorted, helping his sister into one of the chairs before sitting down beside her.

"He talks about you a lot," Sam said, toeing off her shoes. Knowing the first thing the doctor would say would be to take them off and jump on the scale. "He's always telling me how smart you are. That you seem to know a lot about everything and that you're organized and keep things running smoothly."

"He said all of that?" Adam asked incredulously.

Sam nodded. "He also told me he found you quite amusing. In a good way."

Adam's face brightened. "Mac thinks I'm funny? He told you he finds me funny?"

"That's what he told me," Sam said.

"Wow," Adam said in disbelief, shaking his head. "You think you know a guy and than BAM! Hits you with something like that."

"There's a lot of things we all don't know about each other," Sam said. "Even me and you, Peanut."

He frowned. "I like to think we know everyone about each other," he said.

Sam gave a small smile. "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets," she told him.

Adam didn't know how to respond. He was surprised at her all but confessing that she'd been keeping things from him, and it added to his theory that something terrible had happened to her at the hands of their father.

"Look, Sammie, if there's something you need to tell me, about dad…"

The doctor came breezing into the room before Adam could finish his sentence. He sat and watched, saying very little as the basic examination went down. Getting on the scale, peeing in a cup to have the urine measured for protein, asking a million and one questions, especially personal ones, that Adam didn't care to hear the answer for. This was his sister. He did not want details on her overwhelming sexual desire and what sexual positions were the best at that stage of the pregnancy.

At the end of the visit, the doctor told Sam to lie on the table and pull her pants down slightly and lift her top up.

"So you're the proud uncle," Doctor Lightheart commented with a smile.

Adam nodded.

"Your sister was telling me you wanted to hear the heart beat."

"That would be the coolest thing ever," he declared.

"Just go ahead and stand by your sister and we'll give the baby a listening to," the doctor said, picking up a handheld device called a Doppler and following him to the exam table.

"I'm kinda nervous," he admitted, reaching down to take his sister's hand.

"Why?" Sam asked, smiling up at him.

"Never been an uncle before," Adam reasoned. "I'm excited."

The doctor switched the Doppler on and held the transmitter to Samantha's bare stomach. Almost immediately the room was filled with what sounded like, to Adam at least, like rushing water. This was all new to him. He'd never even been around a pregnant woman, never mind been an expectant uncle. And just before he got the chance to ask just what that sound was, a second sound, much louder and more persistent, poked through. The steady, strong heart beat that belonged to his unborn nephew.

"That's him?" he asked the doctor excitedly.

She nodded.

Tears welled in Adam's eyes. He had never heard anything more beautiful in his life.

And he made a vow, ride there and then, that his nephew would own a piece of his heart and soul forever.

* * *

All the evidence and records were there. Crime scene photographs and pictures taken of Carmen both at the scene and in the hospital. The clothes she'd been wearing that night and the knife that Mathew had drove deep into her stomach. The tape of the original 911 call that had been placed by a concerned neighbour who had heard the commotion across the hall followed by the horrific sound of a woman screaming and pleas for help. The DD-5 report that listed Flack as the arresting officer.

Every single shred of what had happened that night sat in the box still sealed as it sat in the visitor's chair at the side of Flack's desk. It had taken the officer down in the basement of One Police Plaza nearly two hours to find what Flack had requested. The sides and the top of the heavy cardboard coated in inches of dust and the slip of paper attached to the front displaying Carmen's first and last name turning turning yellow from age and elements.

He had wanted to get to the case right away, but when he finally returned to the precinct found that there were stacks of files piled on his desk -most likely dropped off there by Scagnetti who wanted Flack to do his fair share of work on their active cases- that demanded immediate attention. And judging by the level of activity and noise in the bullpen, it was going to be a crazy day and Flack expected his phone to start ringing off the hook any second.

His main concern was taking the evidence home with him. Gerrard had already told him to spend all his free time on it if he had to. That wasn't the part that bothered Flack. Spare time wasn't something that rolled around to often, but when it did, he and Sam usually spent it at home because the pregnancy was tiring her out and leaving her no energy to want to leave the house once she got in from work. And that was okay by him. The more quiet time he got to spend with her the better. Turn off the phones, have some take out and than curl up on the couch with a movie or a game. Or just sit there in the stillness and silence with the lights turned down low and just talk. Work was usually left at the door so they chatted about anything that popped into their heads. Usually it was childhood memories or the hopes and dreams they had for their son. Other times it was just mindless chit chat about news events or likes and dislikes or playful banter. They laughed a lot more now that the worries about the baby were behind them. They were more relaxed and calm around each other and enjoyed being together. They were getting along better than they had in the past nine eight months since they'd first hooked up.

His main fear over taking Carmen's old case home with them was the chance of Sam stumbling upon the files and the pictures before he had a chance to tell her about what had happened. And how he and Carmen had met all those years before and had agreed to keep the past in the past.

Flack almost hated the idea of admitting to somewhat of a history with Carmen more than Sam knowing the details of the case.

"Crimestopper," Danny greeted as he appeared before Flack's desk. "Got your message. Sorry I didn't get back to ya until now. Got stuck in shit traffic coming back from talking to a witness in Queens. What's up? You sounded like it was urgent."

Flack had called Danny an hour ago. Twice. And got his best friend's voice mail each time. Both messages asking the CSI to come and see him at his desk ASAP. And if he wasn't there, to call him and they'd meet somewhere.

"Mathew Stobbard," Flack said simply.

Danny blinked. "What about him?" he asked.

"He's up for parole."

"You gotta be kidding me," Danny said. "That's a sick fucking joke to be playing on someone, Flack."

"No joke, Messer," the detective told him, slapping his hand on the top of the evidence box. "Just picked this up this morning. Gerrard called me last night saying I needed to re-familiarize myself with the case to I knew what I was talking about when Mathew's parole hearing comes up."

"When's that going down?" Danny asked.

"Couple weeks," Flack replied.

Danny sighed heavily and shook his head in disbelief. "How?" he asked. "After what that bastard did to Carmen? How in the hell can he possibly be up for parole?"

"He only got fifteen years, Dan-o. Give or take the year and a bit he sat in jail waiting for a trial and brownie points for good behaviour, and we really should have seen this coming. I guess I just never expected it. I haven't given that asshole much thought over the years to be honest."

"I just washed my hands on him once he got locked up," Danny admitted, eyes on the evidence box. "I still can't believe that DA fell for that plea bargain bullshit. That was attempted murder. Cut and dry. And they all but gave him a slap on the wrist."

"It's the nature of the beast," Flack sighed.

"This is exactly what I was talking about that time we were talkin' at the bar during Mac's IAB fiasco," Danny said, picking up the box and setting it on the floor before sitting down in the chair. "Remember? When I asked you why we did this job? And you came out with that deep yet extremely lame answer about doing it for that one time someone thanks you for catching the prick that killed their kid."

"Those weren't my exact words," Flack said. "But yeah…and I meant every bit of what I said. Only somewhere between now and then, the reasons for doing the job have drastically changed."

"What you mean?" Danny asked.

"I mean that now it's not just me. I've got two damn good reasons to hold onto my career and make the best of it and climb the ladder the best I can. Can't stay where I am forever. I gotta kid on the way, Messer. I'll probably have other kids. And I can't take care of a family on what I'm making now and even what I'll be making if I pass that exam and become Sergeant."

"So much for it being about to protect and serve," Danny said.

Flack shrugged. "Gotta be honest. I work so I can support my family. And I have a job I'm damn good at so why even consider looking at other fields? Just suck it up and take it one day at a time and hope for the best. And I like to think that me doing this job is making this city safer for my kid."

"It's never going to be safe Flack with assholes like Mathew on the street," Danny said.

Flack just nodded.

"Carmen know?" Danny asked.

The detective shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"Someone is going to have to tell her," Danny said. "I mean, I don't mind doing it, but.."

"I'll do it," Flack told his best friend. "I'm the one that has to go and testify at this thing to attempt to keep his sorry ass in jail. I might as well be the one to break the bad news to her. How come I always seem to come out looking like the prick?"

"'Cause you are one," Danny teased. "'Cause you're good with the victims, Flack. You're better at handling the emotional break downs and what not. Look how you dealt with Stella over that whole nightmare with that shit head Frankie."

"Honestly, Mess, telling Carmen is the least of my worries," Flack admitted.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Carmen I can control if she gets all hysterical and shit. What really is getting to me is the thought of having to tell Sam all of this. Not just about the parole hearing and being involved with this case. But having to tell her that Carmen and I have history. Not a scandalous one or anything, but there was still a little something there. And Sam's going to be pissed I never told her. That Carmen and I just kept it secret and pretend we never knew each other."

"There was no reason to tell her. Or anyone else," Danny said. "Carmen wanted it in the past and we all agreed to that."

"Sam's going to be my wife, Danny. She's carrying my son. And I shouldn't have kept it from her that me and her best friend already knew each other. I've been keeping way too much back from her and it has to stop. Not good to start a marriage and a family having all of this hidden away."

"How you going to tell her?" Danny asked.

"I don't know. I seriously don't know. Sit her down and just tell her about what happened all those years ago and everything that went on and hope that she doesn't kick the shit out of me or toss my ass to the curb."

"Something tells me she'll surprise you," Danny said. "The new and improved Brooklyn. She's really mellowed out in the last couple of months."

Flack laughed. "I don't know about that. Yesterday we nearly got run over by a bike messenger and I swear to you, Messer, she unleashed a profanity laced tirade that made me blush."

"That's my girl," Danny said with a grin.

Flack sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Contemplating his next move.

"You're scared of her aren't ya," Danny stated.

"Shitless," he admitted.

"Whats the first order of business?" the CSI asked. "Piss of the BFF or the wife?"

Flack opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he leaned forward and grabbed his cell phone from where it sat next to the computer and dialled the familiar number.

She answered after three things.

"It's Flack," he said in way of greeting. "We need to talk. Think you could meet me somewhere? Say Belluso's in about an hour?….yeah, it's pretty important and I don't feel like doing it over the phone…alright, see ya than."

He pressed end and tossed the cell onto his desk.

Mathew Stobbard had opened the floodgates to Hell.

* * *

She was sitting at a small table for two at the back. Her hair pushed behind her ears and her chin resting in her hand as her eyes skimmed through a wrinkled copy of that day's Times. A half empty mug of French Vanilla cappuccino sitting on the table beside her.

Flack pushed his way through the lunch crowd that packed the small diner/bakery. He was running a half an hour behind and was just relieved to see her still there. He'd gotten up the nerve in the car on the way over to just come right out and tell things the way it was. To be sympathetic and accepting of her reaction. No matter how painful and difficult it may be to witness.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down.

"I'm getting used to it," Carmen said with a smile and closed the newspaper. "You and Tim seem to have the same problem. Not knowing when to take a proper break."

"You're starting to sound like Sam," Flack told her, waving a waitress over and placing an order for a refill of Carmen's drink and an extra large black, three sugar for himself.

"She worries about you," Carmen told him. "It's what women in love do. Worry about their men. Have you heard from her? About her appointment? I was hoping she'd call to say how it went."

"She called to say that everything went good and the baby's heart beat is strong and her blood pressure is where it should be. But she wasn't too happy that she'd put on another five pounds. She's worried about not being able to get rid of it quickly."

"What do you think?" Carmen asked. "If she doesn't."

Flack shrugged. "I'll love her no matter what. Doesn't matter to me if she's got some meat on her bones. She's still Sam."

Carmen smiled over the rim of her mug as she finished off her cappuccino. "You fall in love more and more every day," she told him.

"She gave me some last night so it's put me in pretty sappy kind of mood," Flack said with a laugh. Smiling at the young waitress as she sat their beverages down in front of them and picked up Carmen's empty mug.

"So?" Carmen asked. "You said you wanted to talk. That you had something to tell me. What is it? If it's about Sam's baby shower, Stella and I have that all planned out for the weekend before the wedding."

"It's not about that," Flack responded, sipping his coffee.

She frowned. "Sounds serious."

"It is."

"Is there something you're not telling me, Flack? About Sam or the baby? Is everything okay? Are they healthy?"

He nodded. "Everything is great with both of them, Carmen. Sam's doing good, Kieran's getting bigger and stronger every day. For once, things are going damn good in our personal life."

"Good," Carmen said. "So why are we here then?"

Flack sighed and rubbed his hands alongside of the china mug. "I've got some bad news, Carmen."

"About? Jesus, Don, is there something wrong with you? You're not sick or anything are you?"

"No. I'm fine. At least as far as I know. This is work related. Well, somewhat."

"You're talking riddles," Carmen scolded him.

He stared into the black, steaming liquid. "I have to tell Sam about me and you. About how we knew each other a long time ago."

"There was no me and you, Flack. It never got off the ground."

"I know that," he said. "And if she wasn't in my life and Speedle wasn't in yours, I'd say let's try and pick up where things left off. But she is in my life and I love her more than I ever thought I could love another human being. And that's why I need to tell her. I can't keep things from her."

"It's just one of those things she doesn't need to know, Don," Carmen told him. "It's in the past. Nothing came of it? What does it matter?"

"I want her to hear it from me before she hears it from someone else."

"Who would she hear it from? I'm not planning on telling her."

"Trust me, telling her is the best thing to do. Because when she finds out that I was the arresting officer on your case…"

"Flack, how is she going to ever know that?"

He sighed. Turned troubled blue eyes to her confused green ones. "I got a call last night. Mathew's up for parole."

Carmen stared at him. Her brain not comprehending the words that had just escaped from his lips.

"He goes up before the parole board in a couple weeks," Flack continued. "I needed to go and get all the old evidence because they're going to want me to testify. And the DA is probably going to contact you to give a victim's impact statement. They're going to do everything in their power to make sure he stays locked up. Where he belongs."

She shook her head. She felt unable to move or speak.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you," Flack told her. "I was the first one there to see what he had done and I wanted to be the one to break this news. And I had to tell you that I need to tell Sam about all of this. I'm not asking permission, Carmen. I'm telling you that that's what I'm going to do. Just giving you the heads up."

"How?" she asked, finally finding her voice. "How can he be getting out"

"He served seven years already. Add in the time he put in while waiting for trial, and he's done half his sentence. Toss in good behaviour in prison and he's a candidate for parole. Or at least a hearing."

"He tried to kill me, Don. And he would have had you guys not gotten there as quick as you did. If Danny hadn't have answered his phone that night…I would have been dead."

"I know. And I wish that I could guarantee to you that he isn't going to be granted release. Truth is, I don't know what's going to happen. He's gotta powerhouse of a lawyer and you working at the lab and with the arresting officer may actually give the defence a leg to stand on."

"What?" Carmen shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It could throw my testimony right out the window. They can argue conflict of interest because not only do we work together, you're best friends with my wife and the godmother of my unborn child. They could just say I'm too emotionally attached to you to be taken seriously."

"That's a bunch of bullshit!" Carmen snapped. "You're the least biased person I know, Don! You wouldn't lie for anyone."

"I know that. You know that. But the defence will use whatever they can to get their client out of there."

"So that's it?" she asked angrily. "We just throw in the towel and accept he's a free man?"

Flack shook his head. "I never said that."

"Well it sure the hell sounds like it!" she fought to control her temper. "And what happens when, and if, he does get out? I just wait around for him to come back and finish the job?"

"That's not going to happen, Carmen. None of us will let that happen."

"He won't be happy until he finishes what he started, Flack. And none of you will be able to stop him. I know Mathew! I know what he's like. I know how sneaky and manipulative he is and he will find a way to sneak past all of you and get to me."

Flack shook his head. "That won't happen."

"You can't promise me that, Don! You can't promise me that he's going to stay behind bars. And you can't promise me that if he gets out he won't come after me."

"I can promise you that we will stop him before he can get any where near you."

"That's not good enough. So what happens now? Do I throw in the towel? Pack up my life and call it quits? Leave New York and find some other place to run to?"

"Of course not," Flack said.

"You don't know what he's capable of!"

"I do know what he's capable of Carmen!" Flack struggled to keep his cool. "I've been doing this job a hell of a long time and I know what guys like him are all about. So don't sit there and tell me I don't. I saw with my own two eyes what he did to you! I know what he's capable of."

Carmen shook her head adamantly. "I can't live like that. Looking over my shoulder all the time. Wondering when he's going to come after me. Worrying about what he might do to Tim when he finds out I've moved on with my life."

"Speedle's a big boy," Flack told her. "He can take care of himself. And no one is saying Mathew is going to get out. He's up for parole. Doesn't mean he's going to get it."

Carmen snorted. "Assholes like him rule the world, Don. It's a proven fact."

"Not true," Flack argued. "That's not true. If it was, Zack would still be here. And he got what he deserved in the end and so will Mathew."

"What are you proposing?" she laughed dryly. "Get into Rikers and get rid of him? Find an inmate to shiv him?"

"Don't talk fucking stupid, Carmen. All right? I'm saying that if we nail this hearing, his ass will be in there for the rest of his sentence. And if something happens to him before it's up, oh well. No big loss."

"I can't take the chance that he's going to come after me or hurt someone I love. He won't stop, Don. He won't stop until he destroys me. He will go after everyone I love. Tim, you, Sam and the baby. Do you really want that happening? Him getting to Sam and the baby to get back at me."

"You're talking a lot of nonsense, Carmen!"

"Do you want that? Because he won't give a shit who he hurts. Do you really want something happening to your wife and your son?"

Flack sighed. "Of course not," he said. "But that's what I'm here for. To protect them."

"Not even you can protect them from someone like that," Carmen told him.

"No one is going to hurt my wife and my kid," Flack said. "He won't get anywhere near them. Because I will kill him if he even thinks about it. And Tim would do the same thing to protect you."

"I can't put him in that situation," Carmen argued. "I can't expect that from him."

"He loves you!" Flack shouted, drawing the attention of other patrons. "And he's a grown man and it's up to him to make the choice whether or not he wants to stick around or not!"

"Tim does not deserve to be caught up with Mathew. No one does. And the best thing is to let Tim go so that he doesn't get stick in the middle if…"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Flack felt like exploding on her but fought to keep his voice to a harsh whisper when he noticed the irritated glares coming from the other patrons. "Are you listening to yourself, Carmen? Mathew nearly destroyed your life back then but you managed to pick yourself up and continue on. When in the hell are you so willing to throw your life away because of that sonofabitch?"

"Because it's not fair to Tim. Mathew could come after us and Tim could get hurt. And I don't want that to happen. I would rather die than see him get hurt."

"That's the stupidest fucking thing I ever heard," Flack declared. "When you love someone you stick by them no matter what. You don't bail on them when things are tough. That's when you're suppose to hold onto them even tighter and do whatever you have to do protect them."

"You don't know what Mathew is like."

Flack slammed his palm down on the table, startling Carmen. His blue eyes furious. "You know what? I do know what he's like! Zack. Remember him? He came all the way to New York City to find Sam and fuck her up. He showed up at the lab even after I beat the shit out of him with a gun and if it wasn't for Speedle who the fuck knows what he would have done. But I never bailed on her because Zack was fucking crazy."

"You weren't even with her yet!" Carmen argued.

"Does that matter? What does that matter? It didn't stop me from being interested in her and wanting to protect her. It didn't prevent me from hooking up with her. I could handle Zack just like Speedle can handle Mathew."

"And she never should have asked you to go there that night and lay a beating on her either," Carmen fumed.

"Ask me? She never fucking asked me! I went there because the motherfucker deserved to have his face rearranged. She never asked me to do it. I did it all on my own because I wanted him to realize what it felt like to have someone bigger and stronger laying a beating on you. I taught him his fucking lesson. But she never asked me to do it! And you know what, if that asshole was still alive, I'd do it again if I had to!"

"Well aren't you just the most loyal man servant on the face of the earth," Carmen said dryly.

Flack laughed and shook his head. "Don't even try this tough girl, Queen bitch bullshit with me, Devine. I already live with a woman just like that and she doesn't get away with it either."

"It wasn't fair to you to get mixed up with the likes of Zack."

"No. That's where you're wrong. It wasn't fair for Sam to get mixed up with the likes of Zack and be treated like she was. I just happened to come along at a time in her life when she needed someone the most. I helped her because I wanted to. Not because she asked me or I felt obligated to do it. She never deserved what happened to her and neither did you."

"I am not putting Tim through all of that," Carmen remained adamant.

Flack shook his head in disgust. "You have a guy who'd be willing to walk through hell for you. Die for you even and you're just going to toss that all away?"

"It's the right thing to do, Don. For Tim."

The detective sighed heavily and nodded slowly. "Sounds like you got your mind made up, than."

"It's my decision. Deal with it. And thanks for at least having the decency to be the one to tell me. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to. Because you know, I am capable of being a decent human being once in a while," Flack stood up and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Taking out a ten he tossed it on the table. "I'm done here. I need to get back to work. And you need to go and concentrate on growing the fuck up."

"How does anyone go from being a nice guy to a prick in five seconds?" Carmen sniped as he walked away.

He turned on his heel and went back to where she was sitting. Laying his palms down on the table top, he leaned down and fixed her with icy, penetrating eyes. And for the first time, Carmen found herself terrified of him.

"You know something Carmen? You know what bothers me the most about this whole thing with Zack and you thinking I should have just walked away and minded my own business and let Sam deal with it on her own?"

"I never said.."

"What bothers me the most is when I think about what could have happened. If Sam had never come to New York City when she did. If I had never met her and I hadn't taken it upon myself to help her. What would have happened to her if I hadn't have cared enough to protect her. She wouldn't be here right now. And neither would my kid. And that's what eats at me more than anything."

He stood there, looming over her for several long seconds before finally straightening himself up, turning on his heel and stalking angrily away. None too politely pushing his way through the crowd of people as he headed for the front door.

Carmen's hands shook. She had never seen Flack like angry before. And she hoped she would never have to see it so up close and personal ever again.

Tears welled in her eyes as her gaze slipped from her friend's departing figure and down at that ring that sparkled so beautifully on her finger.

She had to let him go. It was the right thing to do. For him. It would hurt like hell for a long, long time. She'd never, ever love anyone ever again. She didn't deserve to hurting Tim like that.

She just hoped and prayed that one day, he would understand and accept that she had had no other choice.

* * *

After Flack had taken off to talk to Carmen, Danny had sat and pondered what his next move would be. He knew he just couldn't sit around and let things come crumbling down around him. Mathew being up for parole was going to cause major issues for everyone personally involved, and even those just on the sidelines. The shit was going to hit the fan. And Danny needed to cushion some of the blows that would come with that.

Once he figured out his first move, he headed back upstairs to the lab an sought out Speed. His friend was in the trace lab working diligently on some evidence brought in that morning. One look at Danny's face and the tone of his voice had told Speed that his friend business when he said that they needed to talk.

By the time that Flack had finished with Carmen and returned to the lab and scoured the place looking for the two of them, the detective found them in the employee lounge. And he just knew, by the tension that hung in the air and the sullen, dark expression on Speed's face, that Danny had felt an urgency and sense of obligation to give him a heads up.

"What's up, Flack?" Danny asked, as he perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch where Speed sat, staring out the window. "How'd it go?"

Flack shrugged. "He told you?" he directed the question at Speed.

He nodded. "You went and talked to Carmen?"

"Wish I could tell you it went good," Flack said. "But honestly, it shit canned pretty quick."

"That bad?" Danny inquired. "She cry? Rant and rave? What?"

"She's pretty fucking pissed," Flack said.

"Something tells me that's a major understatement," Speed mumbled. "You here with more bad news?"

"'Fraid so," Flack said with a sigh and took a seat on the arm of the couch. "Devine just told me she's going to break up with you."

Danny arched both eyebrows and sighed and shook his head. Taking his glasses off her rubbed at his eyes.

Speed snorted and shook his head. "Why did I figure that would be her initial reaction?"

"She's worried about Mathew getting out and coming after her and doing something to you," Flack told him. "And I understand her thinking that way, but I told her that there's no guarantee he's getting out and that no one would even let him get near her again."

"You also tell her I'm a big boy and can take care of myself?" Speed asked.

"I did," Flack replied. "But she didn't listen to a damn thing I had to say. Typical woman. Sam's the same way. She thinks I just pull whatever outta my ass or talk to hear my own voice. How much did Danny tell you?"

"If you're asking whether or not I'm pissed at the fact neither of you ever mentioned you already knew each other, I'm not," Speed said. "I think it's odd that you guys pretended you never met before and all that, but I understand that she wanted to keep that shit in the past and you were going along with what she wanted. You gonna tell Sam?"

"Do I have a choice?" Flack asked. "Better I tell her than someone else."

"Good luck with that," Speed said. "All those hormones going crazy, she's liable to kill you. So when's this going down? When's Carmen going to drop the bomb on me?"

Flack shrugged. "No idea. I just know that's her game plan. I wanted you to know before hand. So you could prepare yourself for it. Come up with a defensive strategy ahead of time."

"Thanks," Speed sighed. "And you might want to come up with one of your own in case your girl goes nuts."

"My couch is always free," Danny offered light heartedly.

"I'm hoping it doesn't come to that," Flack said, although he knew that Sam wasn't going to be thrilled with his confession, or finding out what had really happened to her best friend, he didn't see a reason for her to completely lose it on him.

"This is the biggest bunch of bullshit I ever heard," Speed declared, running his hands over his face.

"Just wanted to give you a heads up so you didn't go in there blind and have the bomb dropped on you," Flack told him.

The CSI nodded, took a deep breath and stood up. "I need to get back to work," he announced, and left the room.

Danny and Flack looked at each other.

"That went better than I thought it would," Flack commented. "I was expecting him to snap. That was me and Sam was pulling that shit, I'd be going nuts and hunting her down and talking some damn sense into her."

"It's the way he is, Flack," Danny said. "That's how he deals with shit. Closes everyone off and keeps it all inside. He's always been like that."

"Not healthy," the detective declared.

"What? You a shrink now? Gimme a break. It's all that therapy you're going to brainwashing you. You're starting to think like a therapist."

"That therapist saved my relationship," Flack declared. "And he keeps me and Sam sane most days."

"What's the date today?" the CSI asked curiously, cleaning his glasses on the bottom of his shirt.

"The thirteenth," Flack replied.

"And it's Friday, right?" he asked as he slipped his glasses on.

Flack nodded.

"Than that explains everything," Danny concluded.

"Makes sense," Flack said with a nod. "Now if Jason Voorhees comes in here in his hockey mask and a machete, no offence, but its every man for himself and I'll be the first one out the door."

"That's it, Don, save yourself," he laughed.

"Sorry, Messer. Love ya like a brother, but there's way I'm getting my head chopped off or my guts torn out trying to save you. I've seen how those movies go down."

"Nice to know how loved and appreciate the Messer charm is around here," Danny said. "Can you honestly believe this is all happening?"

"Honestly, the way my life has been going lately, nothing surprises me anymore."

"Think she'll actually do it? Dump him because of that prick Mathew?"

"She's pretty determined," Flack said. "She's convinced it's the best thing for Speed. And you know what it's like when Devine gets an idea cemented in her head."

"Think Speed will go down that easy?"

"He'll put up a good fight, but I don't think he even he's going to be able to change her mind," Flack sighed.

"So what do we do now?" Danny asked, as they headed for the door.

"We work, as Mac would say," the detective replied. "And make sure that Mathew Stobbard doesn't get a chance to see the light of day ever again."

**A/N: This would have been posted this afternoon. But those major issues with the site held it back. Hope it was worth the wait!**

**Aphina: **_I hope I do Carmen and the whole Mathew issue justice. I am really nervous and worried about it. Hope I can pull it all off.  
_**Brrtmclv: **_I just had this image in my head of Flack being the type who could just not take something like that. And Danny being the one to think how cool it is. Thanks for all your support. It means a lot to me.  
_**Hope4sall: **_I wanted some Flack and Danny interaction. I just love them together. That baby is something else, huh? He's going to be a hell raiser for sure.  
_**Blue: **_Lots of Mathew to come. Flack will surprise everyone when the time comes for that baby to arrive. He'll surprise himself the most.  
_**Forest Angel: **_Yeah, Mathew will cause some issues for all involved. Stay tuned! Enjoy your vacation!  
_**EddiesGirl: **_Danny is in awe at the miracle of life. He wants to get his hands dirty, so to speak.  
_**Eva: **_The t-shirt! LOL! I couldn't resist putting that in! Flack and Danny are great. I love their friendship.  
_**ImaSupernaturalCSI: **_Definitely Canadian Smarties! Canadian Smarties for all of you!  
_**Wolfey lady: **_Thanks!! I am so glad you love my stuff!  
_**Soccer: **_More to come! Thanks for the support!_


	90. Throwing it all away

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN**

**IMPORTANT A/N: PLEASE PRAY FOR ALL OF THOSE ON THE GULF COAST. PARTICULARLY THOSE IN NOLA. MY HEART AND PRAYERS GO OUT TO ALL OF THOSE AFFECTED BY HURRICANE GUSTAV. MAY GOD BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU. BEG75**

**Throwing it all away**

"You don't know what you do  
Every time you walk into the room  
I'm afraid to move  
I'm weakIt's true  
I'm just scared to know the ending  
Do you see me too?  
Do you even know u met me?  
I've waited all my life to cross this line  
To the only thing that's true  
So I will not hide  
Its time to try anything to be with you  
All my life I've waited  
This is true  
I know when I go I'll be on my way to you  
The way that's true."  
-True, Ryan Cabrera

* * *

It was past eight in the evening when Speed finally dragged himself through the door of his apartment. Another long, tiring day was behind him yet he knew there was so much more to come. For the past five hours he'd been calling Carmen non stop and getting no response. He'd left several messages both at his own apartment and on her cell phone and she never bothered to return him. He feared that the bullshit with Mathew had already pushed her too far out of reach. That she'd simply packed up and took off. Out of New York City. Hell, maybe even out of the state.

That thought was just too much to bear. He couldn't let her throw everything they had away. Not over someone like her ex husband. There was no logical explanation for her rash decision to break up with him. He was more than capable of taking care of Mathew himself. And he was worried, and scared, that she hadn't had the courage or the strength to say goodbye to his face. He deserved that. He hadn't given her all of himself when he'd sworn he'd never do that with another woman. He had devoted his life to her and loved her more than he'd ever thought it was possible to love someone.

So why in the hell was it so easy for her to just walk away? He wanted an answer. And explanation. Hell, he deserved that at least. It would destroy him if he lost her. There was no way in hell he was going to let someone like Mathew Stobbard win and he wasn't about to let the love of his life go without a fight. If he had to chase her to the ends of the earth, than so be it. No struggle was too big or too small. And he would do anything to keep her.

And that was what frightened him the most. The thought that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do. No line he wouldn't cross. Control was slipping away and the more he tried to grasp it, the more it slipped between his fingers.

He unclipped his cell phone from the holder on his belt and hit re-dial. Phone pressed to his ear and his eyes on the floor as he journeyed into the kitchen. Tugging his shirt out of the waist band of his pants as he went. In Miami he was able to get away with his shirts untucked and sleeves hanging well past his wrists. Mac Taylor was a little more strict when it came to dress codes.

He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Leaning against the counter top, he uncapped it and took a long, refreshing sip. No one was answering at Flack's place. It was already on the fifth ring and he knew on the seventh the voice mail clicked on. He also knew that someone had to be there. Sam had been off all day and Flack had called it a day two hours before Speed himself had.

The detective had looked weary and despondent when their paths crossed as Flack was leaving and Speed was returning from an interview with a witness. Flack said he was going home to face the music. Come clean about everything and anything and hopefully not find himself sleeping on the couch or in a hotel overnight. Or without a fiancee or monthly child support to be shelling out once the baby came along.

So there were two explanations to why no one was answering the phone. Either they were in the midst of the argument of all arguments or Sam had killed Flack and was unable to pick up because she was too preoccupied finding a way to ditch the body.

That thought made him snicker a little. He pressed end and tried Flack's cell phone. That went to voice mail as well.

Yep, Speed thought. He's dead.

He finished his water and dropped the bottle into the small recycling bin under the sink and headed for the living room. He'd try Carmen's cell a few more times before deciding whether or not he should begin scouring the city for her.

He dialled the number, than stopped in his tracks when the sound of a cell phone ringing came from the living room.

He hung up and headed in the direction the sound had come from. Pausing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room as he saw Carmen waiting for him on the couch. Her back rod straight as she sat wit her lips set in a firm line and her hands clasped in her lap. He could tell by the redness and puffiness of her eyes that she'd been crying. A lot. He stole a glance down at her left hand and saw the engagement ring still on her finger. Taking that as a sign that things weren't as grave as they seemed.

He approached slowly and calmly and tossed his keys on the coffee table. "I've been calling you all day," he told her. "I've left you tons of messages and you never bothered returning any of them."

"I've been busy," she responded. "Trying to sort things out. Get my head on straight. I needed some time to myself."

He nodded, accepting that reasoning.

"We need to talk, Tim," she said, gesturing towards the spot beside her, an unspoken suggestion to sit down.

He ignored the request and finished tugging his shirt out of his pants. "Look, if this is about Mathew, you're too late. Danny already told me."

Carmen blinked. "I wanted to.."

Speed held up a hand. "And Flack found me before you did to let me know that you're planning on sending my ass packing."

"He had no right to…"

"He had every damn right in the world," Speed told her, and shoving magazines and papers off of the coffee table, took a seat on the edge of it. "I mean, he's my friend. Other then Danny, he was the first one here to accept me as the new guy. He never asked questions about my past and he never expected me to talk about it. He's the closest thing I've had to a best friend since I left Miami. And I guess he thought enough of me not to let me get blindsided about this."

"What did he exactly tell you?" Carmen asked.

"Everything. He told me he how he was the responding officer to the scene and that he and a few other guys had to fight like hell to arrest Mathew. He told me exactly what he saw and heard that night. And he showed me the photos and the reports from the hospital."

She shook her head and dropped her chin to her chest. "He had no right to do any of that," she said, voice nearly a whisper.

"He also told me that you guys had a little thing," Speed told her.

"We didn't have a thing," she responded angrily. "He took me out for coffee a few times. You're blowing that way out of proportion, Tim."

"Am I? You think Sam's going to say the same thing when Flack tells her? Because he's going to tell her. She has a right to know. See, he has respect for her. He loves her. And he wasn't going to let her find out what went done from someone else. How do you think she's going to take the news that her best friend once had a thing with her fiance?"

"For Christ sakes, it wasn't a thing!" Carmen snapped. "He was there for me when I needed someone. He was my friend when I didn't have anyone else. And yeah, you know what, I liked him. He was funny and extremely attractive and a complete gentleman. But there was no way, after what I had just been through, that I was getting involved with him. And he accepted that and we went our separate ways."

"And how about now?" Speed asked. "How do you feel about him now?"

"He's engaged to my best friend. He's the father of her baby. And I'm happy for him. For both of them."

"But if Sam wasn't in the picture you would have latched onto him?" Speed asked.

"What does that have to do with any of this?" Carmen responded.

"Answer the question. Yes or no."

She sighed. "I don't know, okay? I met Sam before I ran into Flack again. I was the one that called him that night when Sam was drunk and told him that she was in love with him. I was the one that made them realize what was between them. But if Sam and I had never met," Carmen shrugged. "I guess maybe, if the opportunity ever arose…"

"I almost cheated on you with Samantha," Speed admitted.

Carmen stared at him. "You what?"

"I was tempted. Really, really tempted. We went out to lunch and that process server nailed her with those papers from Zack and this bike courier almost ran her over and she fell into me. And you know what? Standing there with my arms around her…it felt really good Carmen. I felt insanely attracted to her. And I was this close to kissing her too."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because Flack was my friend from day one. From the time I met him after interrogating Zack. And I wasn't going to do that to him. And I was already falling in love with you and wanted to see where that was going to go. 'Cause I knew in my heart of hearts that the only guy for Sam was Flack. And that it was just a moment that passed between us and nothing more."

"Why are you telling me all of this, Tim?"

"Because I'm trying to show you that there shouldn't be any secrets between us. And that I understand how you didn't want to feel like a victim after what happened to you and you just wanted to put shit behind you. I get that. But I also think that it was pretty fucked up on both yours, and Flack's part, to put on this big fucking façade about not knowing each other before you started at the lab."

"Flack and I agreed to leave it in the past. We never dreamt in a million years that it would ever come out. That Mathew would ever be granted parole."

"He hasn't been granted anything," Speed told her. "He's up for it. Doesn't mean he's going to get it."

She sighed heavily. "You saw the photos? Read the reports?"

Speed nodded.

"So you've seen what he's capable of?"

"I've seen that he's a twisted, sick bastard that gets off on beatin' on women," he said. "And he's probably the type that couldn't hold his own against someone his size and the same sex."

Carmen shook her head. "Don't underestimate him, Tim."

"I'm not. I'm taking everything I read and everything I saw at face value. You ask me, you're overestimating him. And you dumping me…you're only letting him win. You're letting him turn you into what you hate the most. A victim."

"I'm doing this so I don't end up a victim," she informed him. "So neither of us do."

"Carmen, listen to me," Speed leaned forward to laid his hand over hers. "I am more than capable of handling Mathew. I'll take care of you. Of both of us."

She shook her head and yanked her hand away. "Not even you can protect us if.."

"If. That's the magic word," Speed pointed out. "If he gets parole. If he comes after you. If he's a threat to you or everyone around you."

"He is a threat to me!" Carmen snapped, trying to hold back the tears of fright and indecision. "And he will come after me."

He sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face, feeling his patience and resolve slipping away. Nothing was more frustrating than having to talk to a grown woman as if she was a child that was hard of understanding. "For the last time, Carmen…just because he is up for parole does not mean he's going to get it."

"He's been in for seven years. Half a sentence and.."

"Flack is going to testify for the DA," Speed continued, cutting her off mid sentence. "He was the arresting officer and is probably going through that evidence box as we speak. His testimony alone should be enough to keep Mathew in longer. And Mac's going to have someone go to Rikers to have a little sit down with your ex and see if he's risk to re-offend."

"Flack's worried that anything he says will be tossed out," Carmen fretted. "He thinks Mathew's lawyers will argue conflict of interest because not only do we work together, we share the same address."

"So there's always you," Speed told her. "You'll have to give a victim impact statement."

Her face blanched and her chest constricted. "I never thought about that…I can't face him, Tim. I can't let him see me…I can't…"

"He can't hurt you behind bars, Carmen!" he snapped, his last shred of nerves dissolving. "You're panicky and blowing things way out of porportion! Listen to yourself for Christ sakes! You're not the only one whose ever had to go through this. People survive violent crimes every day and they don't act like a raging, fucking lunatic!"

"You know what!" she huffed and jumped to her feet. "I didn't expect you to understand! You never get upset about anything. You're always so fucking calm and cool and collected. Nothing bothers you! You're so goddamn closed off, Tim! You're so cold. Do you not feel anything for anyone?"

"I feel a lot for you, Carmen," he said quietly, looking up at her as she stood, hands on her hips above him. His dark eyes full of compassion and understanding. "I love you. More than I ever thought I would love anyone. And I understand you're frightened. It's normal to be afraid in a situation like this. But you're overreacting. Mathew can't control you're like unless you let him. And by doing this…by pushing me away, you're letting him win. Don't you see that?"

"Don't you see that I am doing this for you Tim?" she fought back. "To protect you? To prevent you from getting hurt?"

"For fuck sakes, Carmen!" he shouted, vaulting to his feet. He wanted to grab her and shake some damn sense into her. Convince her that her fears were unfounded and that he was a grown man who could more than take care of both of them.

She jumped back, slightly startled by his outburst. But she wasn't going to back down. She made her decision, and as heart wrenching and as difficult as it had been, nothing was going to stand in the way of her sealing the deal. "Listen to me, Tim," she said calmly, reaching for his hand. Hoping a quiet approach would work better.

"No!" he bellowed, yanking his hand away. "You shut up and listen to me for a change!"

Carmen glared at him and brought her hand back and slapped him across the face. The sound echoing throughout the apartment. She felt guilty and ashamed for doing it. But the more she did to make him realize that she wasn't worth it, that he needed to just cut his losses and walk away, the easier breaking both their hearts would be.

"You really think that's going to work, Red?" he asked, holding a hand to his stinging cheek. "I know what you're trying to do. I'm not stupid. You think by pushing me further and further away from you that I'll just give up and walk away. Well guess what, I'm not a quitter. And if you think I'm letting you walk away from me, especially at a time like this where we need to stick together, you have another thing coming."

"This isn't your fight. Tim!"

He shook his head. "You're wrong. This is as much about me as it is about you. We're suppose to be spending forever together. We're committed to each other, Carmen. People that are like that have each other's backs no matter what. They don't abandon one another and push each other away."

"They also don't lead each other into danger, Tim. And that's why I am doing this! Christ, why can you not understand any of this! I don't want you to end up hurt. And I don't want you going all half cocked and going after Mathew if he does get out. Like Flack when he went and knocked around Zack! Do you think that was smart! He should have known better than that!"

"He didn't care at that point in time. And you know why, Carmen? Because he loves her more than life itself and would do anything, and I mean anything, to protect her. He'd give up his badge for her if it ever came down to it. And that's his goddamn prerogative! He protected what was his! And if you ask me, he's a bigger man than most for even caring that much!"

Carmen snorted and grabbed her jacket off the back of the couch. "He's a fool if you ask me. No woman is worth that. And you need to realize that. That I'm not worth that, Tim."

"Yes," he said. "You are."

"Well I'm sorry you think way too highly of me," she said, slipping into her coat and scooping her purse off of the coach. "I guess maybe you just saw something in me that was never really there."

"What I see a scared little girl that runs away from problems instead of facing them head on and letting the people who care about her the most help her out from time to time," Speed retorted.

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself," Carmen informed him.

"And that's why you're playing immature drama queen right now," he scoffed. "Yeah, you're all grown up. How'd you ever survive in the big bad world thinking that you're the only one that matters and the only one that's ever had bad things happen to them? That's pretty goddamn self centered if you ask me."

"Well no one asked you," Carmen snarled and attempted to step past him.

Speed caught her by the wrist and yanked her to him. "Don't walk away from me, Carmen. From us. If anything is going to get you through this crap with Mathew, it's the two of us sticking together. You have to trust in me, Carmen. And in us and in everyone that cares about you. Everybody at work. Especially Flack and Sam."

"This bullshit nonsense is the last thing they need, Tim. Especially Sam. They have their own lives. A baby on the way. They don't need this."

"They love you, Carmen. They want to help you through this."

"They can't, Tim," she said sadly. "And neither can you."

He sighed heavily. "So that's it? You just throw your hands up in the air and give up? Let Mathew win?"

"I'm sorry you can't accept this," she said in response, and attempted to tear her arm from his grasp.

"You're right, I can't," Speed told her, tightening his grip on her. "I love you, Carmen. More than life. And I can't let you just walk away."

She looked into those deep brown eyes. Saw the pain and sadness and frustrating in them. Her heart was heavy and she felt sick to her stomach. But she had to force herself away. For his own good. She stood on her tip toes and kissed him softly. "I love you," she whispered, her lips on his.

"We can do this together, Carmen," he said, letting go of her arm and holding her face in both of his hands.

She shook her head and fought back tears as she kissed him one last time. Laying a hand on the side of his face, she searched his eyes with her own. Silently begging him to understand.

"We can," he insisted.

She stroked his cheek tenderly and smiled through her tears. "Good-bye, Tim," she said, and backed away from him.

"Don't do this, Carmen," he pleaded, watching as she hurried for the door.

"I have to," she told him. "Please understand."

"I can't let you go," he said.

"You don't have a choice," she responded.

"Just take some time, Carmen," he begged. "To think about what you're doing and what you really want."

The only response he received was the door slamming as she walked out of his life.

* * *

Flack didn't see the huge deal with the Saw movies. As far as he was concerned, they were just your average, run of the mill slasher flick with terrible acting, an even worse plot and the worst special effects he'd ever seen. One look at the blood and the guts and he just laughed. It didn't even look realistic. To him it looked like nothing more than crappy bloods and either watered down ketchup or cherry syrup. Working on death and gore every day opened your eyes to just how awful and laughable movies like that really were.

Only Sam wasn't laughing. Far from it. She was too busy cowering under the blanket she'd brought from the bedroom before they'd settled down on the couch with junk food and the movie, the lights dimmed as they indulged in the latest instalment from the horror franchise. She was cuddled in as close as she could, both arms latched around his torso, face buried in his chest. Her entire body trembling as she was close to tears.

"Sam, it's not that bad," Flack said, trying to hide how amused he was at her behaviours.

"Yes…yes it is," she argued. "It is that bad…it's scary."

"It's stupid," he told her. "Don't be such a damn baby."

"I can't look…tell me when it's over…"

"You've missed half the movie."

"I don't care…I can't watch it…I'll have nightmares for a month."

"You're being ridiculous," he told her. "Just take a peek. I promise you that it's not at a really nasty, gory part."

"Promise?" she squeaked.

"I promise you. I swear on my grandfather's grave that there is nothing going on that will scare you."

"Okay," she said, warily poking her head out of the blanket. "I trust you."

"I would not lie to you," he assured her, attempting to peel away the hand she had firmly clamped over her eyes.

She spread apart her fingers and peered through them. Just in time to see yet another poor soul brutally and inexcusably tortured. She shrieked and dove back under the blanket. Near sobbing as she shook like a leaf and gripped his arm tight enough that her nails nearly broke the flesh.

"Christ, Sam!" he exclaimed, wincing as her nails bit into his skin. "What is wrong with you? It's just a movie!"

"Turn it off!" she pleaded. "Please…turn it off…watch it when I'm in bed…just turn it off…"

"Would you just relax? It's a stupid movie."

"Please turn it off," she wailed, and tightened her grip on his arm.

"Alright…alright…take it easy…" he peeled her fingers off of him one by one and leaned over to snatch the remote off of the coffee table and switched off the television completely. "It's off, okay?" he dropped the remote beside him and lifted the edge of the blanket to peer down at her. "Baby…relax…I turned it off. Okay?"

She nodded and sniffled noisily and emerged from under the heavy cover.

"I'm sorry," Flack said, wrapping his arms around her and settling against the back of the couch. He stroked her hair as she rested her head on his chest. "I didn't know you'd be that scared."

"I told you I hated horror movies," she said.

"I didn't think you hated them that much. It's okay. It's off now and you can relax. Just lie there and close your eyes and relax."

She settled her head against him and laid her hand on his stomach as she closed her eyes. Relaxing at the feel of him stroking her hair and her back. It felt nice to just sit there, in the comfort and quiet of their own home and just be together. No television or radio on, no phones ringing off the hook.

Flack closed his eyes as well. Relishing the silence and the dimmed lights. Feeling her heart beating against him and the gentle touch of her head and her warm, sweet breath. "Better now?" he asked.

"Much," she replied.

"Good…and I promise when we go to sleep tonight that I'll check under the bed and in the closet so the Bogeyman doesn't get you."

"That is so not funny, Donald!" she cried, and pinched his side hard enough to make him yelp.

"Sam, one day people are going to see all these marks on me and charge you with domestic abuse," he said, rubbing the spot she'd inflicted the damage on. "Bites on my shoulders and my neck and the insides of my thighs, scratch marks across my back and down my chest. You're a cruel, sadistic little girl."

"And you get off on it and love every second of it," she declared.

He grinned. "That I do," he said, and kissed the top of her head.

"I have to go pee," she announced.

"You just went ten minutes ago," he reminded her.

"Well I can't help it. Your son is sitting right on my bladder. Will you come with me?" she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"To the john? Why? Afraid you're going to fall in? Need someone to wipe?"

"No…I just…" she sighed and smiled up at him sheepishly. "I'm scared to go on my own."

He laughed. He couldn't help it. Hearing a woman who made a career out of wading through blood and guts and maggots and God knows what else, telling him that she was afraid to go to the bathroom by herself was just too surreal.

"Don't laugh!" she scolded him, and slid her hand up the front of his shirt to tug on a patch of chest hair.

"What are you afraid of? What is there to be scared of?"

"The lights in the hallway are off," she reasoned. "And the switch is all the way at the opposite end and I'd have to walk through the dark to get to it."

"So you want me to hold her hand and walk you there?"

She nodded. "And turn the bathroom light on and check behind the shower curtain for me."

He laughed even louder and longer at that.

Sam frowned. "Don't laugh! When I was ten, a baby sitter made me watch Friday the Thirteenth and in one of the scenes, Jason was hiding behind the shower curtain! I nearly pissed my pants when he jumped out! That movie traumatized me! I had nightmares for three months and made Adam check for monsters under the bed and in the tub. I still can't sleep with the closet door open and I still can't sit on the toilet if the shower curtain is closed!"

"I doubt a serial killer is hiding in our tub," Flack told her. "Or in our closet or under our bed. But just to be on the safe side, I'll put my gun under my pillow and you're not to sleep with your legs or your arms dangling over the side of the bed. You know, just in case he grabs you and drags you under the bed to rape and pillage you and chop you into a million pieces."

"It's not funny!" she wailed, and sat up and punched him hard in the shoulder. She crossed her arms over her chest and collapsed back against the couch, pouting like a three year old.

He looked sideways and bit his lip, amused at her antics. He reached out to touch her cheek.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, yanking her head away from him.

"You really can't be serious about wanting me to walk you to the john," he said.

"I hope a serial killer gets you," she huffed. "I hope he's in the closet and when you go in there to get dressed for work in the morning he snatches you and does unimaginable, painful, disgusting things to you. And don't think for one second I'll help you either. I'll let you die a slow, excruciating death."

"And how would Jeffery Dahmer or the Son of Sam get in our apartment?" he asked, humouring her.

"I don't know! Maybe they scaled the balcony."

He arched an eyebrow. "Fourteen floors?"

"Maybe they snuck in while I was down in the laundry room and you were in the shower and they are just lying in wait. Just itching for us to get in there and slaughter us in our sleep. Think so? Sound logical?"

"Sounds like you need to take a valium," Flack told her. "Something to calm down your overactive imagination. Come here for a second," he reached out for her, hooking two fingers in the neck of her pyjamas and pulling her towards him. Circling her slender body with both arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have poked fun at you."

"You'll be sorry if I go in the bathroom and don't come back out."

He sighed heavily. "Fine," he said, letting her go and pushing the blanket off of them and standing up. "I will escort you to the bathroom."

"And check behind the shower curtain?" she asked hopefully.

"You can not be serious," he complained.

"Please?" she pleaded.

"Christ woman, you are going to be the death of me," Flack declared and held out a hand.

"But I'm a hell of a lot of fun," she said, taking his hand and wincing from a kick to the ribs just as he helped her to her feet. "And you love me and would be bored without me. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself."

"I'd sleep a solid eight hours and have the whole bed to myself for one," he said, leading the way from the living room and down the dark hallway.

"You can have the whole couch to yourself if you like," Sam offered. "It is a pull out."

"My back could not take sleeping on that thing. What? You want me all crippled up and unable to perform my manly duties?"

"You've preformed enough manly duties," Sam informed him, casting a glance down at her stomach.

Flack frowned. "I was talking about getting things down off of high shelves and doing heavy lifting," he said.

"Sure you were."

"Don't be such a perv, Sam," he said, and reached into the dark bathroom to turn on the lights. He stepped to the side and motioned for her to go ahead.

She paused in the doorway, nodding in the direction of the closed shower curtain.

"You're kidding me," Flack said, frowning and shaking his head in disbelief.

"I will piss myself before I'll sit on the toilet without you checking the tub!" she declared.

He sighed heavily and stalked into the bathroom and tossed open the shower curtain. "See!" he exclaimed, gesturing to the empty tub. "Nothing! There's no one hiding in here! Now unless this killer is small and skinny enough to slither down the drain, you've got nothing to worry about. Okay? You can take a leak in peace. Alright?"

"You don't have to be so snarky," she complained and padded into the washroom. Undoing the ties on her pants and than pausing before dropping them, staring at him.

"What?" Flack asked. "What now?"

"I can't pee with you in the room," she replied.

"Jesus H Christ, woman," he huffed as he stalked from the bathroom. "You are too damn much!" he declared and shut the door.

"Thank you!" she called. "Can you make me some warm milk and some toast and peanut butter?!"

"No!" he yelled in response. "I can't! You're driving me nuts!"

"Fine," she mumbled to herself, and had just parked herself on the toilet when a loud knock came to the door. "Can I help you?" she inquired.

"You want two pieces of toast or one?" Flack asked from the other side of the door.

She smiled. "Two plus one," she replied. "Thank you, baby. I love you."

"Yeah…yeah…" he grumbled, the sound of his footsteps receding down the hall.

* * *

Flack was glad that they still had clothes on. That there was nothing more going on other than a fully clothed make out session there on the couch. Just a lot of kissing and necking and hands exploring through fabric. Some joking and giggling about how cramped and uncomfortable things were and feeling like horny high schoolers who were trying to get some dirty in before the parents came wandering through the front door.

Which is exactly what happened. No parents, but one very pissed off and unexpected Carmen Devine storming through the front door and slamming it shut behind her. Flack had heard the key in the lock just as his soon to be wife was initiating things by unzipping his fly and reaching inside, and he'd nearly thrown his back out completely and fallen off the couch when the jingling of the keys sent him scrambling to get himself into a sit and straighten his clothes out. In the past month, Carmen had been home twice, three times at the most.

Sam ducked under the blanket to do up the buttons on her jammie top, just as Carmen came into the living room and fixed her two roommates with looks that could kill.

"Uh…hey, Devine," Flack greeted. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she reminded him. "I mean, I am paying my third of the rent, aren't I?"

"I didn't mean that…I just meant…"

She smirked at how out of breath they both were. How flushed their faces were and how Sam's hair was messed up and two of her buttons misaligned and Flack's shirt was wrinkled.

"Is that all you two do?" she asked. "Don't either of you have hobbies?"

"Don't be such an off handed bitch," Flack snapped.

"I should be giving you shit," Carmen said, tossing her jacket on the arm chair and her keys onto the coffee table. They made a loud clatter and slid across the wood before tumbling over the edge.

"What's your problem?" Sam asked, straining herself to bend down and pick the keys up.

"I come home and I have to be subjected to the two of you getting naked on the couch? Go in your room if you want to fuck."

"Take it easy, Carmen," Sam defended herself. "We weren't doing anything. And you haven't been home in nearly a month. So even if we were going to fuck on the couch, it's really none of your business."

"Keep your bodily fluids confined to one room," Carmen requested. "Preferably your own room. Last thing I want to be cleaning up is your guys' messes. I see enough of that shit at work without seeing it at home. You wanna put out, you've got a bed to do it in."

"Oh fuck you, Carmen," Sam said, slowly getting to her feet. "I can't help it that some of us have men that know how to satisfy a woman. And who don't use working too much as an excuse not to be bothered."

"Sam," Flack said, shaking his head. A silent plea for her to just stop and play nice. Last thing he wanted was to be breaking up a cat fight between the two of them. Or her finding out what was going on just because Carmen was pissed off and needed someone to take it out on.

"I'm going to bed," Sam announced, a hand on the small of her back as she journeyed from the living room.

"I'll be in in a second," Flack told her, standing up and gathering the dirty dishes and glasses that littered the coffee table.

Carmen smirked and dropped onto the love seat. "Hurry up, now, Don. So I can spend the rest of my evening listening to her faking it."

"Do me a favour," Flack said. "Either shut the fuck up or walk your ass out the door and than walk back in again and at least try and be civil. Just because you made the biggest mistake of your life and screwed your entire existence up, don't come in here and take it out on a pregnant woman."

"Gerrard was right," Carmen said with a bored yawn. "You do have a damsel in distress complex."

"My weakness, I guess. But at least to me, she's worth fighting for and I just didn't let her walk out on me."

Carmen blinked at the implication of his words. "Were you born a mean bastard Flack or is it a gift?"

"I'm my father's son," was his cool response.

"Well let's just hope your son takes after his mother than."

Flack smirked. "Good night, Carmen," he said, and carried the plates into the kitchen.

"You should have minded your own business, Flack. You shouldn't have gone running to him like some little bitch."

He ignored the comment. Turning the water on to rinse the dishes before dropping them into the washer. He wasn't going to get himself into an altercation with the woman. She was obviously torn up inside about the decision she had made and had been drinking. He heard the word she slurred some of her words and the unsteady way in which she walked. And he could smell the booze from a mile away.

"Did you tell her?" Carmen asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "I mean, I guess you didn't seeing as you two were getting ready to get naked on the couch. Doubt she'd want you anywhere near her if you'd told her."

"It's my business, Devine," he replied. "And I'll tell her when I'm ready to."

He tried to slip past her through the doorway and she sidestepped so that she blocked his path.

"What do you want from me?" Flack asked. "It's not my fault you screwed things up with Speed."

"Do you ever wonder what if, Don?" she inquired, reaching out to toy with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"No," he responded, squeezing between her and the door frame. "I don't."

"I do," Carmen told him, moving in close, so that his back was pinned to the arch way. "I often sit back and wonder what my life would be like now if I had have just given you a chance. I mean, I know you were into me back than. And you were this really young and cute uniform that all the girls liked it. Yet you were paying attention to me. Spending all that time with me."

"I felt sorry for you," Flack told her.

"Bullshit," she laughed, and commenced playing with his buttons again. "You were so into me. I saw that disappointed look on your face when I told you I just wasn't that into you."

"That was a long time ago, Carmen," he pointed out. "A lot of things have changed since than."

"I know…we're both older and wiser…hornier…"

Flack laughed. "You're drunk," he told her, laying his hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her away from him. "You're drunk and talking a lot of shit and you need to have some coffee and sleep it off."

"Come on, Don, don't you ever just want to do?" she asked, her eyes sparkling up at him. "Don't you ever just want to find out what you missed out on a long time ago? Get off on being with someone other than the same person every single night?"

He considered it. Felt that warm, welcoming and willing body pressed up against his. The incident between him and Sam on the couch had him on edge and raring to go.

"You're thinking about doing it aren't you," Carmen said. "Right here in the kitchen. Just saying fuck it and doing it right here, right now. You're seriously thinking about it."

He took Carmen's face in both his hands and moved in close, so their lips were almost touching.

She smiled at him, licked her bottom lip in anticipation. "You really want to do it, Don. I know you do. You're really thinking about doing it. With me. Aren't you."

He smirked. "No," he stated confidently. "I'm not."

She frowned as he pushed her away from him. Staring daggers at his back as he slipped from the kitchen and disappeared into the living room.

"Tell her or I will," Carmen called to him, as she opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of red wine.

"Fuck you, Devine," he responded, the bedroom door clicking softly closed behind him.

She shrugged and uncorked the wine. "You're loss, Detective Flack," she said, and taking a huge swallow of the alcohol, carried the bottle with her to her empty, lonely room.

* * *

When Flack slipped into the dimly lit bedroom and closed the door behind him, Sam was already in bed, pillows propped behind her as she reclined back against them, a pair of earphones on her pregnant stomach and an old fashioned CD Walkman Adam had had lying around resting on her chest.

"What are you guys listening to?" Flack asked, peeling off his shirt and tossing it in the hamper in the closet.

"Adam made me a mixed CD," Sam replied. "Everything from pop to electronic to chamber music. Right now, your son is shaking his booty to 50 cent."

"Gangsta rap?" Flack smirked, unbuckling his belt. "You're letting my unborn child listen to gangsta rap? Well at least I know whose to blame when he's three and talking about blunts and forties and bitches and killin' cops and popping caps in someones ass."

"Maybe his first words will be bitches and hoes," Sam said with a giggle. She whistled as he dropped his pants. "Giving me a free show are you officer?" she asked, stretching her leg out to run her toes along his back as he sat on the edge of the bed to yank off his socks.

"Watch it," he warned, grinning at her over his shoulder as he stood up. "May have to use to cuffs and the nightstick on you."

"Now that's my idea of a fun Friday night in," she said, grimacing as a series of punches and kicks assailed her stomach. "He's getting really strong."

"Got ourselves a regular Evander Holyfield," Flack commented, standing up and going into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"I swear to God sometimes it feels like there's more than one in there with all this movement," she complained, adjusting the pillows to make herself more comfortable.

"Bite your tongue," he said.

"So what was up with Carmen?" Sam asked, as Flack turned off the bathroom light and rejoined her in the bedroom a few minutes later. Watching as he shed his boxers and threw them in the overflowing hamper before snagging a pair of sweats from the dresser and pulling them on.

He shrugged.

"She was just a whole load of crazy tonight," Sam said. "I wonder what the hell happened."

"I'm not entirely sure. But I think I may know a little bit," Flack told her, and sat down on the edge of the bed closest to her.

She frowned at the seriousness in his eyes and voice. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Me and you need to have a little chat," he replied.

"About?"

He sighed and got off the bed and went to the closet. Re-emerging seconds later with the evidence box he'd stashed underneath a pile of dirty clothes. He'd kept it in the back seat of his SUV, covered with his suit coat, and than had gone down to get it once Sam had fallen asleep on the couch before supper. Quietly and efficiently returning with it and hiding it in their bedroom.

He sat the box on the floor and opened it and pulled out a heavy case file. Holding it out to her as he returned to his spot on the edge of the bed.

"What's this?" Sam asked, taking it from him.

"This is Carmen's case file from when she was assaulted and nearly killed by her ex," Flack replied.

"And why do you have it?"

"He's got a parole hearing coming up and I need to testify at it."

Sam opened the folder. Carmen had told her most of the details on the anniversary of the attack. She knew of the massive concussion and the broken ribs and the fractured jaw and the orbital bone. How Mathew had stomped so hard on her stomach he'd nearly obliterated her uterus, leaving doctors to wonder if she'd ever have children. How he'd ripped chunks of hair out of her head and beat her mercilessly all because she refused to help him get rid of the bloody clothes he'd come home in after him and some Tanglewood buddies killed some poor, innocent kid.

But the pictures brought tears to her eyes and made her stomach sick. And one unanswered question still remained.

"But why do you have to testify?" Sam asked.

"Take a look at the DD-5 report," he responded.

She sat the photos and medical reports on the bed and concentrated on the DD-5 report. Not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

"The very back, Sam. Look who the arresting officer was," Flack said gently.

She flipped the pages over and looked down at the name and signature. Surprise registered on her face and she turned curious golden eyes up to worried, intense blue ones.

"I wanted to tell you," Flack told her. "Since the day that Carmen started at the lab. I was pretty shocked when she called me that night you guys went out together. Remember? When you guys were drunk and she called to tell me you were in love with me and hook us up?"

Sam nodded.

"I honestly nearly shit myself when I heard her voice. I knew it was her right away. And when I saw her at my crime scene…you and I were just getting together and I wanted to tell you Sam."

"But you didn't," she pointed out.

"I wanted to, baby. I told Carmen I thought that it was best if I told you, but she said she didn't want you or anyone else looking at her like she was victim and that the past was best left in the past. That me and her knowing each other had no bearing on you and me. We never thought that Mathew would come back to haunt us and that we'd have to tell you this way."

Sam just nodded and calmly sat the DD-5 report on the stack of papers beside her. "I understand," she said.

Flack blinked. "Come again?" he asked.

"I understand. I have things in my past that I've been trying to run away from for years and no one has ever held that against me. I mean, you don't think any different of me because of what my father did to me or my nightmare of a relationship with Zack."

Flack wondered who was more surprised. Sam for finding out he and Carmen had previously known each other, or himself for not facing her wrath for keeping such a secret.

"Did you ever have a thing with her?" Sam asked.

"I took her out for coffee a few times. Got to know her as a friend. She wasn't ready to get involved with anyone and I didn't push it," Flack responded honestly.

"Were you attracted to her?"

He nodded.

"And now?"

"And now I find her an attractive woman. But she's my friend and nothing more. I love you, Samantha. Only you. And I want to marry you and spend my life with you and have a family with you."

She nodded slowly and turned her head and smiled at him. "Come to bed, Donnie," she said. "Put this stuff away and come to bed. I'm tired."

He leaned across the bed and laid a hand on the back of her head and kissed her forehead softly. Then he stood up and gathered all of the reports and folders up and repacked them in their box. Which he sat in the chair by the window.

Sam turned the Walkman off and removed the headphones and laid the contraption on the nightstand. Reaching up, she flicked off the bedside lamp and readjusted her pillows before lying down on her left hand side.

"You forgot something," Flack said, gently lifting her top leg and sliding a pillow in between it and her bottom one before gathering the comforter around them both and lying down alongside of her. Her back pressed into his stomach, his hand resting on her swollen belly and his lips in her hair.

She suddenly started giggling.

"What's so funny?" he asked. "Baby do something? I didn't feel anything."

"I was just thinking that I'm a whole lot of crazy and it hasn't scared you away."

He smiled into her hair. "Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment," he said.

"You're no stand up comedian, my dear," she said with a laugh, elbowing him playfully.

"You're not with me for my sense of humour," Flack reminded her, his lips finding the back of her neck.

She sighed. "I'm tired, Donnie. Really, really tired."

"You're kidding me, right?" His lips were next to her ear. "You get me all worked up on the couch and than shut me down in here?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

He sighed heavily. "It's okay," he told her.

"Yeah? Then do you mind getting your knee out of my ass?" she asked.

He chuckled. "That's not my knee."

"Pervert," she laughed. "Seriously, though. Do you mind maybe rolling over and facing the other way so I can get some sleep?"

"I mind," he told her. "But I'll still do it. I love you," he kissed her temple and rolled over onto his other side. Still close enough to her that their rear ends were touching.

"I love you, too," she whispered in the dark, reaching behind her to rub his hip.

"Mm-hm," he said and yawned noisily. "Goodnight, baby."

"'Nite," she responded, nestling into her pillow.

There was silence for several minutes. Before she felt him jerk once. Than twice. Than a third time behind her. She was just started to wonder what the hell was wrong, that maybe he was having a seizure or something, when he finally spoke. In a frantic, almost frightened voice.

"Sam…Sam… SAM!!"

She bolted upright and reached over to flick on the lamp. "What? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Something under the bed has my arm," he told her. Than burst into laughter.

"Bastard!" she scolded him, swatting him with her pillow. "I thought something was wrong with you!"

"Sorry," he said, rolling over onto his back and looking over at her in the dark. "I just couldn't resist."

She smirked and leaned over and kissed him. Giggling as he curled an arm around her neck and pulled her down on top of him for a long, toe curling, body tingling kiss.

They were both breathless when the kiss ended, staring at each other.

"Still tired?" he asked, desire evident in his voice.

"Exactly," she responded, kissing him chastely. "Yes, I am."

"Damn you," he said, as she flopped back over onto her side. Sighing, he shifted onto his hip and leaned over to press a kiss to the side of her stomach, and than to her cheek. "Good night, guys," he said, and turned over onto his stomach.

"Good night, daddy," she said in a childish voice.

Flack smiled. One word had never sounded so good. Or had the power to bring tears to his eyes and warmth to his heart.

**Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you!! And lurkers, if you like the story, please drop me a line! I know there's lots of you!!**

**Thanks to:**

**Brrtmclv  
****Hope4sall  
****Laplandgurl  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Wolfeylady  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****Forest Angel  
****muchmadness  
****Soccer-bitch**

**And a welcome to GregRox!!**


	91. Running Scared

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN**

**A/N: AFTER SOME RESEARCH, THE NAME OF THE PRISON MATHEW IS IN HAS BEEN CHANGED TO SING-SING FROM RIKERS. RIKERS IS NOT A MAXIMUM SECURITY PEN. SO JUST IN CASE SOMEONE WAS WONDERING ABOUT THE SUDDEN CHANGE……**

**WARNING: I AM PUTTING A MILD M RATING ON THIS CHAPTER FOR THE USE OF LANGUAGE IN THE FINAL SECTION.**

**Running scared**

"Hey you, what you running from?  
all your hate  
what you've become  
bet you didn't think  
it would happen to you  
all used up  
half way through  
and this is not my face  
and this is not my life  
and there is not a single thing here  
I can recognize  
this is all a dream  
and none of you are real  
I'll give anything  
I'll give anything."  
-Head Down, Nine Inch Nails

* * *

Bright sunshine filtered in through the vertical blinds that covered the bedroom window. A crisp breeze filled the room and made Carmen shiver as she lay, partially clothed, in the middle of her rumpled bed. She attempted to sit up. A ferocious head ache and the sensation of the room spinning sent her collapsing onto her back with an agonized groan.

She felt nauseous and dizzy. Her chest ached from the powerful sobs that had wracked her body and sent her into an alcohol induced sleep. She had somehow managed to get her shirt off and nothing else before curling up and pleading to die because of the tremendous ache in her heart. Her eye makeup was smudged and her hair a ratty mess.

She was now past caring about what she looked like or even felt like. Everything that had been wonderful and promising in her life was gone. Her future shattered right before her very eyes. Because she had pushed it away instead of holding on tight and praying and hoping for the best. The look of heart break and confusion and pain that had taken over Tim's eyes the night before was branded into her memory. Her heart was shattered beyond repair. Mathew had left her with no other choice. She had needed to protect those that loved her the most. She could never had been able to live with herself if Tim had been caught in the middle of something so nasty and evil. He was a good, decent and loving man that deserved so much better.

So she had set him free. It had nearly killed her to do it, but she was convinced it was the only, and the right thing, to do.

He would go on with his life and Carmen hoped that he did. He had a lot of love in that body of his, and some lucky woman would be the beneficiary of that. She had wanted with all of her heart to spend the rest of her life with him. Call him her husband and herself his wife. Bear his children. Grow old and grey alongside of him and fondly recall years gone by as they sat on a front porch swing.

But that was all gone now. Every hope and dream for the future. Mathew had somehow managed to weasel back into her life and destroy everything that meant something to her. Mathew had always been good at that. Destroying people. And he showed neither shame or remorse. He got perverse pleasure from causing others catastrophic pain and suffering. He deserved to rot in the hell for the rest of his life, and instead, he was knocking on freedom's door. It didn't seem fair. That someone like that could be out walking around and breathing fresh air and feeling the sunshine beating down on his face. Creating a new life for himself.

In this day and age, evil seemed to be winning. It was a sobering, sickening thought that the world was struggling to come to grips with. Tim Speedle had been the one bright light in Carmen's other wise stale, boring and predictable existence. He'd come into her life when she'd given up on love. When she'd been convinced that there were no good guys left. And he'd shown her that there were decent, solid and dependable men still left in the world.

She wondered what would happen now. If Tim would stick around New York or find it too difficult to work around her now that things were over. She wondered if maybe he'd transfer to another lab out of state. She knew of several that were always keen on hiring people with Tim's experience and credentials. Maybe he would even go back to Miami. There were people there that loved him and cared about him and missed him. He talked fondly about his old coworkers and boss all the time. There were a lot of good memories he could escape too.

But the bad far outweighed them and Carmen knew it. The shooting and the woman that had broken his heart. He had sworn up and down on several occasions, that he would ever go back to his old life. He'd put the past behind him and that was that. The old Tim Speedle had died that day on the cold floor of that jewellery store. Coming back to New York to heal and regain his strength had been a blessing. He'd been able to start anew, create a second life for himself. And trust a woman again. Something he had sworn he would never do. Yet Carmen had been able to find the chinks in his armour and peel it away.

And she'd single-handedly managed to destroy him.

Despite convincing herself that breaking up with him had been the best thing for everyone involved, Carmen could not rid herself of the dull ache in her chest. She missed him already. The smell of him, the feel of his skin under her fingertips, the touch of his lips on hers. The sound of his voice. Things that she would hold near and dear to her forever. There would be no other man in her life from there on out. She had already had the best and given him up. No one else would ever come close and it seemed unfair to any man to have to be compared to Tim.

So she would spend the rest of her life the way she deserved to. Alone.

The alarm belonging to the clock radio on the nightstand buzzed noisily. Quarter after six. The sound to her throbbing head equal to that of a jet plane taking off. She moaned at the intrusion and launched herself across the bed to slam a hand down on top of the device.

She closed her eyes and swallowed back bile and clasped a hand to her unsettled stomach. She was tempted to call in sick. And would have if she wasn't sure Mac hadn't already heard the news of her Tim's demise and would no doubt be expecting her do something that weak and pathetic. It was why Mac, although involved with Stella, frowned upon work place romances. Some people could handle it. They managed to stay mature and professional whether things were going great or whether they were completely falling apart. Others, as Danny and Lindsay had proved, just totally fell apart and let their work and judgement suffer. Carmen had sworn up and down, during her 'talk' with Mac that she'd be able to cope if things ever went south in her relationship.

Boy, had she been wrong. The thought of seeing Tim at work and having to explain what had happened the night before to curious co-workers made her more nauseous than any bottle of ten dollar wine could have. But she would not, and could not, disappoint Mac by running away from her problems and leaving him in a huge lurch. He couldn't run the lab properly with another absent employee, and she knew it would seriously damage her reputation in her eyes, and most likely, she'd lose his respect. And that she could just not deal with. Mac was like a second father to her, and she couldn't handle the thought of him not respecting her or trusting her again.

And her co-workers relied on her. To be part of a team. An essential part of the bigger picture. She was determined, despite her broken heart, that she wouldn't let them down. She'd forge ahead and suck it up and get on with it. Because that was what living and learning was all about.

* * *

She forced herself out of bed. Snatching her terry cloth robe from the hook on the back of the door, she slipped it on over her dishevelled attire and quietly opened her bedroom door. In case the couple in the room next to her were still fast asleep. Sam worked strictly eight to four and she slept in as long as she possibly could without running the risk of being late. And as far as Carmen knew, Flack was suppose to begin the first of four afternoon shifts in a row that day. The last thing she felt like doing that morning with the ferocious hang over plaguing her, was face either of her friends. She'd been a massive bitch to both of them and they hadn't deserved it.

No sooner did she get halfway down the hall when she heard the tell tale sounds of life in the kitchen. The slight clinging of a spoon against a ceramic bowl and the faint rustling of the morning paper. She felt a wave of nervousness sweep over her. She had never been good at apologizing and knew that whoever it was simply going about their morning rituals deserved one. A big one in fact.

So swallowing her pride and steadying her nerves, she tightened the sash on her robe and stepped into the spacious eat in kitchen.

Samantha looked up as she sensed her best friend's presence in the doorway. She looked Carmen up and down with an impressed look on her face and went back to the bowl of Corn Flakes and slices of toast with peanut butter in front of her. Eyes riveted on that day's copy of the New York Times. She wasn't about to let Carmen walk all over her. She just wasn't the type to act all happy go lucky when someone had talked to her with utter disrespect the night before. Especially when she'd been up half the night thanks to the paranoia brought on by the horror movie and the fact that her son refused to sleep at night.

"Good morning," Carmen greeted, slowly and cautiously making her way into the kitchen and to the kettle.

It was half full of water and lukewarm to the touch. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard above the sink and poured some of the water into it. She snagged a tea bag from the container resting on the counter and dropped it into the mug, which in turn, she put in the microwave and set for a forty seconds.

"Morning," Sam simply greeted, and bit into a piece of toast.

"Sleep good?"

"Not really."

"Baby kept you up?" Carmen asked, attempting conversation.

"Among other things," Sam replied. "It was hard to sleep with the sound of you either bawling your eyes out or puking your guts out."

"Sorry," Carmen said sheepishly. "I had a rough night."

Sam gave a small laugh. "Apparently."

The microwave beeped and Carmen removed the now steaming mug. She grabbed a spoon from the dish rack and slipped into the chair across from Sam. The two women didn't speak. Sam kept her eyes on the newspaper and quietly ate her breakfast. Carmen watched her best friend. Wondering just where, and how to start.

"Look, Sam," she began. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I acted and…"

The petite brunette held her hand up, stopping Carmen mid sentence. "I don't want to hear it, okay? You were drunk and me of all people know the shit that can come out of someone's mouth when they've been drinking. Both Don and I are guilty of spewing crap under the influence. You being three sheets to the wind is the least of my worries. My main concern, right now, is this bullshit you're pulling with Tim."

"We broke up."

"No. You broke up with him. There was nothing mutual or amicable about it. You broke up with him because you don't trust him enough to be able to deal with the crazy ass nonsense your ex may bring about."

"You know about Mathew?"

"Don showed me the evidence box. I saw everything. The DD-5, the medical reports, the photographs taken of you in the hospital. It was a horrific thing that happened to you, Carmen. The guy is a first class bastard and a psycho. But you're not the first woman in the world to have the shit kicked out of them and unfortunately you won't be the last. You're lucky. You survived. Others don't get that luxury."

"And you survived Zack," Carmen added.

"Zack has nothing to do with this," Sam said, spooning some Corn Flakes into her mouth. "I'm lucky. Zack's rotting in hell where he belongs and I don't have to worry about him coming back to haunt me. And I get that your freaked out over Mathew being up for parole and you're concerned about him coming after you, but what I don't get is why you'd be willing to throw away a great guy like Tim for a piece of garbage like that."

"I don't want him to get hurt," Carmen told her best friend. "He doesn't need to be in the middle of this."

"That's up to him," Sam said. "He's a big boy and makes big boy decisions. And he's more than capable of handling himself if Mathew tries any bullshit with either of you."

"Like Flack handled himself against Zack?"

"I never asked Don to go after Zack and put the beats on him. Don did it on his own. And I agree it wasn't the smartest thing and he could have lost his badge for it and he could have handled things a lot differently, but it was his decision to react like he did. Just like it's Tim's decision how to deal with Mathew."

"I just don't think it's fair that he get involved, Sam. He's a good man that deserves so much better."

"So you just make that choice for him?" Sam asked, sipping her tea. "What's fair and what's not?"

"It's what's best for him," Carmen replied.

The other woman snorted and went back to her paper. Her silence and indifference telling Carmen just what she thought about that reasoning.

"I know you think I did the wrong thing," Carmen said. "But I know what Mathew is like. I know the grief that he'll cause when he gets out."

"It's not when," Sam told her. "It's if. Don's going to do the best he can at that hearing to make sure Mathew doesn't see the light of day for at least another few years. You can't just give up on everyone because you found it so easy to give up on yourself."

"I don't even know how safe it is for me to be here with you and Flack and the baby when Mathew's back on the streets," Carmen said, staring into her mug. "He's capable of anything. I wouldn't want him to come here and cause issues for the three of you."

"Well unlike you," Sam said, shifting uncomfortably in her sleep. "I have faith in my man to protect me and our child from the likes of Mathew."

"I wish I could be as loyal and true as you, Samantha."

"It shouldn't be that hard when you love someone. It should be second nature. And that's why I can't wrap my head around you dumping Tim when I know for a fact how desperately in love with him you are. It just makes no sense. And in my honest opinion, you're being immature and ridiculous and just plain stupid."

Carmen smirked. "Well you always have had a flair for being brutally honest."

"I shoot from the hip," Sam told her. "And I call it like I see it and that's how I see it. It's just plain idiotic."

"And you've never made a decision I haven't agreed with? Or that you haven't regretted afterwards? Like maybe not telling me how you and my now ex fiance nearly had a thing?"

"We never nearly had a thing," Sam informed her. "We had a moment. Plain and simple. A moment that came and went. It's possible to be attracted to someone but be in love with someone else, you know. Don's my everything. My entire world. And I wouldn't throw that away. For anyone. And if anyone's been keeping secrets…"

Carmen sighed. "He told you about that too? We never meant for you to find out that way, Sam. And Flack wanted to tell you on many occasions and I always convinced him otherwise. So if you're going to blame someone…"

"I'm not blaming anyone," Sam cut her off. "I get the whole wanting to keep the past the past. And there was nothing really between the two of you. I didn't see a huge deal. Don had a life before me. I know he dated other women before me and I know he had sex with other women before me. I'm not stupid. There was no reason for me to freak out over that little tidbit. He knows where his priorities lie now."

"He loves you, Sam. And the baby. You guys are his whole life."

"Just like you were Tim's whole life?" she asked.

Carmen fought back tears. "I really don't want to talk about him anymore."

"That's fine," Sam said with a shrug as she finished her toast and sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach in slow, smooth circles. "But you're going to have to face him at work. And trust me, he's not going to give up that easily."

"I know," Carmen agreed.

"Just as long as you do," Sam said.

"So where is Flack this morning?" Carmen asked, anxious to change the subject. "It's only quarter to seven. I thought he was on afternoons."

"He was suppose to be," Sam replied, pushing her chair away from the table and rising slowly. She gathered up her dishes and carried them to the sink. "He got called in at five thirty. The crazies are on a rampage apparently. Not enough detectives on shift for the amount of work. Why are you asking?"

"Just curious," Carmen told her.

"Really?" Sam rinsed her dishes off and set them in the washer. "Or were you asking because you were hoping to try and fuck him in the kitchen again this morning?"

Carmen swallowed hard and stared at her best friend who now leaned against the counter top. Surprisingly calmed and composed.

"I was hoping that that was just a dream I had," Carmen said.

"Well it wasn't. He told me about it this morning. Because unlike you, his conscience tends to kick him in the ass from time to time."

Carmen shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. "It was a moment, Sam. Just like your moment with Tim."

"I never came right out and asked Tim to do me in the middle of the kitchen. And Tim didn't have a pregnant fiancee down the hall either."

"I was drinking," Carmen told her. "I know that that's not an excuse. I was drinking and caught up in this moment and this whole Mathew thing…Flack was there for me a long time ago and he was there for me last night and I may have misread his signals."

Sam laughed dryly. "His signals? And what signals were those? He told me he came right out and told you it wasn't going to happen. Sorry, but I don't exactly see what signals he would have been giving off. And honestly, I am more inclined to believe his version of events over yours."

"I propositioned him." Carmen admitted. "And he said no."

"He shot you down," Sam said. "Hopefully that will discourage you from ever trying it again."

"I would never actually do anything with him, Samantha. He's almost your husband. You guys are having a baby. It was all the alcohol and the hell of a day I'd been through and…"

"If that's what booze does to you, makes you put the moves on your best friend's man, something should be telling you that you can't handle your liquor," Sam told her. The truth hurt. So did tough love. But sometimes it was absolutely necessary.

"I'm sorry," Carmen said sincerely. "I wasn't in my right frame of mind."

"Obviously. But let's get one thing straight. And I'm putting all my cards out on the table here."

"By all means," Carmen told her.

"If you ever try something like that with my husband again, I will fucking bury you. I love you like a sister, Carmen. You know that. But if he ever comes to me and tells me something like that again or I see you even flirting with him or getting a little too cozy, I will fuck you up. I may be pregnant, but I'm not going to tolerate anyone's shit. Got it?"

Carmen nodded. "You know, pregnant or not, you're damn scary for such a little thing Ross."

"I trusted you, Carmen. I trusted you to have my back. My family's back. And than you go and do something like this."

"I really am sorry, Sam. And it won't happen again. I promise you. It was a moment of weakness. I was at a low point and he was there. That's it."

Samantha nodded, taking in her best friend's words and promises. "I'm going to go and get ready for work," she said at long last, a hand on the small of her back as she journeyed from the kitchen. "Oh," she said, and back tracked and poked her head into the room. "One more thing."

"What's that?" asked Carmen, wiping tears that slipped down her cheeks. Humiliated by what she had done.

"For the record, I don't fake."

Carmen arched an eyebrow.

"Last night you said I faked. Orgasm. Just to let you know, I don't. I never have. I don't have a reason to. Just thought I'd clear that up."

Carmen laughed lightly and sipped her tea. "You're a damn lucky woman than."

Sam smiled brightly and disappeared from the doorway. "Yes," she said as she padded down the hall. "I most certainly am."

* * *

"This is exactly why I don't promote office relationships," Mac declared, as he and Flack, coffees in hand, stepped into the crime lab boss' office at quarter to nine that morning.

Flack didn't have the energy, or the balls, to point out to Mac that he himself was in a relationship with Stella, someone whom he had worked closely with for years. First, he was too tired and irritable from yet another near sleepless night due to Sam's incessant tossing and turning and complaining about being uncomfortable, and because of the horror movie from earlier, petrified of the dark. He didn't know how he was going to handle having a baby in the house and up to eat every three or four hours when he could barely function now some days.

Second of all, Mac didn't seem in the mood to hear any form of wise cracks that morning. Not that Flack had intended the Stella thing to sound smart ass. It was merely stating a fact. But with Speed calling him up that morning and announcing he was taking a few days off to sort himself out, Mac's patience and resolve was on short supply. He obviously needed someone to rant and rave to about the predicament of the severely short staffed lab and Flack just happened to be that lucky someone.

He couldn't help but think, that when Mac had shown up at his desk twenty minutes ago asking if he wanted to grab a cup of coffee and talk, Mac's true intentions were not to piss and moan about Tim and Carmen's sudden and shocking split or the fact that Sam had really gone and fucked things up when she'd gotten pregnant and couldn't work out in the field. Flack knew there was something else on Mac's mind. Mac didn't just show up and ask you for coffee unless there was something big on his plate.

And when Mac Taylor closed the door after you'd stepped into his office, there was no doubt that whatever was on his mind was pretty damn huge.

"Give it a couple days, Mac," Flack said, as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Mac's desk. "The two of them will get their crap together and work things out and than all will run smooth in the lab again. They just need a little time to calm down, think about what they've done. Once they realize how irrational and stupid this all was, things will go back to normal. Whatever normal is these days."

"I don't have a couple of days, Flack," Mac told him, slipping into the leather chair behind his desk. "It's Thanksgiving weekend. I've got Adam heading to Phoenix four days, Samantha stuck semi permanently behind a desk, and now Speed's taken off on me. That leaves Hawkes, Stella, Carmen and myself to pick up the slack. We've been short staffed since Lindsay quit and Sinclair doesn't see the need to hire more people."

"Well no one ever said Sinclair was the sharpest tool in the shed, Mac," Flack said. "He's just hoping to stay on the mayor's good side by keeping costs down within the department. He's just looking for anything that looks good for his drive to be commissioner."

"Lucky for us Sinclair is no diplomat," Mac said, sipping his coffee. "Because I can't honestly see the mayor lacking enough intelligence to eve give Sinclair that high profile of the job. The way he runs things now…this lab and the whole department will be the least efficient in the country under his watch."

"I think you're putting a little too much faith in the mayor," Flack told the older man. "Brains seem to be on short supply some days in this city. Hell, in the country. I mean, if forty million plus people are dumb enough to vote Bush in for a second term…"

Mac cleared his throat noisily and shot Flack a pointed look. While Mac wasn't one to openly discuss his political views at work, everyone knew he was a staunch Republican. The man kept a framed photograph of Ronald Reagan on his office wall and had more than once referenced how partial he was to presidential nominee McCain and his views. Flack didn't care. Democrat, Republican, independent. It made no difference to him. Political preferences didn't determine that measure of a human being. And mostly everyone at work strayed far enough away from such issues.

"Sorry," Flack said, somewhat amused by the look on Mac's face. "Just an observation on my part. I wasn't slamming you or any one else. Sometimes my mouth has a tendency to run off on it's own."

Mac smiled. Well, what was considered a smile for Mac.

Flack sighed and stifled a yawn and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Baby's not even here yet, Don," Mac said teasingly.

"May as well be. Moves around so much at night that Sam can't sleep. And when Sam can't sleep, neither can I. She tosses and turns all night long and bitches and moans about heart burn and being uncomfortable and how fat she is. And if I even dare say I'm sleeping on the couch, she gets moody and bitchy and accuses me of being insensitive and says I'm taking off 'cause I find her repulsive and some other shit that comes out of her mouth. I just want her back, Mac. The old Sam. The one without the rampaging hormones and the aches and pains."

"Just a little while longer," Mac assured him. "And you know, she's hardly the only one to blame for getting herself in this situation."

Flack chuckled. "She said that exact same thing to me this morning. Honestly though, I don't know what's got me more nervous. That I'm going to be a dad in two plus months or that I'm going to be a husband in four weeks."

"It's normal to be nervous. I wouldn't know about the becoming a father part, but I remember very well how nervous I was leading up to marrying Claire. And we'd been living together for quite some time just like you and Samantha and I still felt as if my whole life was going to be turned upside down."

"How about now between you and Stella?" Flack asked. "You still nervous or are you more calm seeing you're old hat at this marriage stuff?"

Mac considered the question. "I'm a man, Don," he answered at long last. "Spending forever with any woman whether you've been in the boat before is terrifying."

"Amen to that," the detective said and took a gulp of the strong coffee. "So? What's up, Mac? I know you didn't just bring me up here for a chat and a friendly coffee."

He sighed and nodded slowly. "It's this Mathew Stobbard business," he said.

"What about it? If you're worried about how it's going to affect Carmen's work and the issues it's causing between her and Speedle…"

"You're going to be testifying at the parole hearing," Mac stated.

Flack nodded. "I was the responding officer. I assisted in the arrest."

"Gerrard wants me to send someone to Sing Sing to talk to this kid," Mac told the younger man. "Get inside his head. Ask him about the incident, about his plans when he gets out of prison. See if he's remorseful at all. And most importantly, if he's liable to re-offend."

"What's that have to do with me?" asked Flack.

"I need someone I trust implicitly to escort them to Sing Sing. And you're the only one I place that kind of trust in, Don."

Flack just sipped his coffee. He had no idea how to respond to that. Hearing Mac Taylor say words like that seemed almost surreal. It wasn't every day the boss of the crime lab came right out and said those types of things to someone. And he felt honoured and a little humbled that Mac felt that way about him.

"So who you thinking of sending?" Flack asked.

"Samantha," Mac answered simply.

Flack snorted. "So you're not really asking me to escort anyone there. You're asking me permission to let her go."

"I knew you wouldn't agree to the idea unless you went with her."

"You're right. I wouldn't have. And I'm not fond of the idea of her being in a maximum security prison surrounded by cons that have been locked up for years and will just tear into her for being a woman. You know what they're like Mac. You know what vulgar stuff is coming to come out of their mouths seeing her. They won't give a shit if she's pregnant or not. Some would probably like that even better."

"I'll make sure that the two of you are sent to a secure area of the facility. She won't have to be out in the general population with any of the prisoners."

"And that's suppose to make me feel better about the whole thing? It's still Sing Sing and she'll come in contact with some of the cons no matter where we go. She's six and a half months pregnant. She shouldn't be in a place like that. Hell, the doctor barely wants her leaving the house some days. What's going to stop Stobbard from losing it and doing something to her?"

"You'll be there," Mac said. "You'll keep an eye on her. And there will be guards in the room and Stobbard will be restrained at all times."

"Why Sam? Of all people her? Why not Hawkes or Stella? Why not you even?"

"Samantha has a B.A. in Criminal Profiling, Flack."

"So? She's a ballistics expert. That's her baby. She wanted to do profiling she'd work for the Feds."

"She knows how to deal with people like Stobbard. What questions to ask. How to get under their skin to see what really makes them tick. And she has a way about her that makes people open up to her, trust her."

"Fool Stobbard with the whole innocent, naïve girl next door act she has going on sometimes. I know her very well, Mac. I know her personality. And I also know that people like Stobbard prey on people like her. Twist them around to make them feel bad for them. Make himself look like the victim, play on her soft spots."

"You're underestimating her, Don. She's a smart girl. She knows how to interact with someone like that. She knows how to play her cards to suck them into trusting her to get what she wants out of them. We need to prove that Mathew Stobbard is still a threat. That he belongs in prison for the rest of his sentence."

"And sacrificing my pregnant wife to make sure that happens is suppose to be okay to me?" Flack shook his head incredulously.

"I was extending a courtesy to you. By letting you know that this was the plan before I just went ahead and asked her to do it. I wanted to give you the heads up."

"You wanted to clear it with me," Flack corrected him.

"I wanted to show you some respect," Mac said. "And like I said, I wanted you to escort her there because I knew that was the only way you'd agree to this and that you'd feel more comfortable being in charge of her safety."

Flack ran his hands over his weary face.

"Samantha is our best bet for nailing Stobbard," Mac said. "And I thought you'd be the first person who'd want to nail his ass."

Flack laughed dryly. "Don't play that game with me. Make me choose either my wife or the job. Don't do that."

"That's not what I was doing."

"You were. You were hoping to play on my hatred for people like Stobbard. You know guys like him and crimes like his are my weakness. So you tossed his future on my head because you know I'd never be able to stand myself if he got out."

"Matt Stobbard is a violent, persistent felon with tight ties to the Tanglewood gang, Flack. He gets his kicks out of abusing and degrading women."

"This isn't just any woman, Mac. You're not asking me to set up just any woman as a sacrificial lamb so the department can gloat about keeping a prick like that behind bars for a few more years. This is my soon to be wife. The mother of my unborn child, and I'm all for keeping things professional at work and keeping that firm line between business and pleasure, but you're asking me to put her and my kid on the front lines here."

"You're overreacting. Nothing is going to happen. I will make sure that the two of you are far enough away from the general population that even if trouble broke out, you'd all be out of harms way."

Flack shook his head. "I'm not talking about me. I'm not worried about myself."

"I need your help here, Don. It's not often I ask for it. I want Stobbard's ass behind bars for the rest of his sentence and I know you want that, too."

"Of course I do. Guys like that…" he sighed heavily. "Guys like him and Zack deserve to be shot and pissed on. Zack's dead and he's in hell where he belongs. But I can't take the risk of something happening to Samantha while we're there."

"I'm asking you to have some faith in me here, Flack. I guarantee you that Samantha and the baby will be safe. There will be armed guards around her at all times. And you'll be there and I know that gives you some sort of peace of mind. And I wouldn't be considering sending her there if I didn't have the utmost faith in her ability to keep that sonofabitch where he is."

"Okay…so even if I do agree to this, whose saying she's going to?"

Mac didn't respond.

A light clicked on in Flack's head. "You've already ran this by her. That's why you're trying to smooth it over with me. Because you've talked to her and she agreed to do it and you wanted to cushion the blow for me."

"I called her and I asked her if she would go there," Mac confirmed. "And she told me that she would go under two conditions. One, that I cleared it with you and two, that you be allowed to go there with her. She made it very clear that she wouldn't go unless you went as well."

"And this is okay with Gerrard?" Flack asked. "This has been cleared with my C.O.?"

Mac nodded.

"Jesus," Flack said and shook his head. "This is just insane. I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I think this a good idea. 'Cause honestly, I don't see how any good could come of this."

"Mathew Stobbard could be denied bail," the older man said. "And that should be good enough."

"Still doesn't have me convinced that this is the best thing," Flack said. "But I trust you, Mac. And if you say you'll find a way to keep her and the baby safe…"

"You have my word, Don. I'll arrange whatever I can with Sing Sing to assure that all of you are in a secure environment."

Flack sighed heavily and put his face in his hands and closed his eyes briefly. Weighing the good against the bad. Seeing what options there was. Truth was, he didn't see an other option. He knew that Mac was in a tight spot. Sending Hawkes or Stella would only leave the lab in more a hole staff wise. And with Speed taking off to God knows where and Carmen too personally involved, there was really no one else Mac had to do the job.

"Fine," Flack said against his better judgement. "We'll go. But I am telling you right now, Mac, one sign of trouble and I'm yanking her out of there regardless if she has the info you need."

"Fair enough," Mac agreed. "I'll call them right now, make the arrangements."

Flack nodded and stood up. "What time we need to be there at?" he asked, as Mac picked up the phone.

"Warden is expecting you at eleven thirty."

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything else," Flack said, and made for the door.

"Don," Mac called to the younger man.

The detective paused in the doorway.

"You made the right decision."

"Maybe," Flack said. "But you also said that to me after I coughed up my memo book and look at the fall out from that."

"It's time to let that go, Don," Mac told him sternly.

Flack smirked. "I'll decide that for myself," he said, and walked out of the office.

* * *

Sing Sing was a maximum security penitentiary located in Ossining, New York, thirty miles north of New York City proper. It sat on the banks of the Hudson River and held over 1,500 hard inmates. Murderers, child molesters, rapists. The scum of the earth. Last Flack had heard, Sonny Sassone was making license plates there and running his own mob of cons that thought they owned the place.

But it wasn't Sassone he thought of as he and Sam signed in at the front desk and waited for the warden to come and escort them to the main offices of the facility, where the meeting with Mathew Stobbard would take place. Flack felt better knowing that Mac had arranged to have the interview done far away from the general population to avoid the chances of anything horrific happening. But the walk past the exercise yards of the prison were enough to make him want to turn around and head for home.

The inmates flocked to the chain link fence like animals on display at a shelter. Desperate for someone to come and pay attention to them and show them some love. Any woman would do. Only this woman happened to Flack's pregnant soon to be wife, and hearing the comments directed her way had made him see red. Sam took it well.

Working in law enforcement had taught her how to have a thick skin when it came to sexual comments no matter how grotesque and disturbing. She just kept walking, her head held high, not giving any of them men the time of day or engaging in verbal sparing of any sort. She was there to do a job and she was determined to see it through and remain as professional as possible.

They were escorted by the warden and three heavily armed guards. Flack walked with a firm grip on Sam's hand. More of protective gesture than a romantic one. And Sam appreciated it. It made her feel safe and secure despite the hardened criminals and vulgarity around them.

They had just rounded the corner of the main yard and were heading past the solitary confinement wing and were less than a hundred yards from the main offices when the heavy metal doors of solitary swung open and a shackled inmate was led out by four guards. Two holding him by the upper arms and another two following behind with their weapons at ready.

Samantha didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary about the prisoner. He was clad in the same orange jumpsuit as the other inmates and was securely kept in line by the shackles around his ankles and the hand cuffs around his wrists. Both the shackles and cuffs attached by chains to a heavy belt around his waist. He was tall and muscular and wore his hair in a brush cut. The thing that caught her eye was the smug, indifferent look on his face. Like he didn't give a rats ass where he was or how he got there.

He looked directly at her. A sly smile curving his lips.

She was startled, and alarmed, by Flack tightening his hand around hers even more, and then quickly and aggressively yanking her in front of him and moving her to his right hand side. So she was all but wedged between his heavy body and the wall as the group they were travelling in came to a dead stop.

"Aww, come on, don't hide her," the inmate complained. "I wanna see your newest flavour of the month, Flack."

"Just keep walking," the detective responded. "Shut your mouth and keep going, Truby."

"So why ya hear, big man?" the inmate and former cop inquired. "Come to pay me a conjugal visit? So you can fuck me up the ass a second time?"

"What's a matter, Dean?" Flack chided. "The boys in here not showing you enough love? You're not getting fucked up the ass enough?"

"Fuck you, Flack. I'm the one that does the fucking around here."

"Bet you're all into that, huh, Dean? You always did seem a little odd to me. Probably been doing it long before you got locked up."

"Nah, man, you just take where you can get it. I'll tell you what though, when I get out of here, I'll come to your house, pay your bitch a visit and show her what a real man can do."

"You're never getting out, Dean. Hope you like where you are and the treatment you're getting, 'cause you're going to die here. Just like you deserve to."

"Better than living the rest of my fucking life as the department rat."

"Get him the hell out of here!" the warden bellowed at the guards.

"That's enough out of you," the guard to Truby's right snarled and nearly yanked the big man off of his feet.

"You know, Dean, I must have missed that part in the academy where they taught us that it was okay to steal drugs from a department raid and than kill some innocent kid that got in the way of you sellin' it."

"Always black and white for you, huh Flack?" Truby managed to shrug off the guards holding onto his arms. "Always had to do the right thing to look good for daddy. Never could be your own man and make a name for yourself. Always had to be under daddy's shadow."

"Fuck you, Dean. I'm not the one in here for being a murderer. Sleep good at night? Knowing you're never ever going to step out from behind these walls? You're old man must be so proud of you. He must just love the fact you're the cell block bitch."

"Stop," Sam pleaded, terrified at the situation quickly spiralling out of control around her. "Donnie, just stop…please don't say anything else…"

"Listen to your bitch, Flack. You know, she's damn fine. Wouldn't mind getting a piece of that ass. What's it like? I bet her pussy feels real good doesn't it? Tastes good, too, I bet."

"I said get him the hell out of here!" the warden ordered yet again. "You don't shut your mouth, Truby and you'll be getting another two weeks in solitary, here me?"

"My lips are sealed boss," he chided. He winked at Sam. "Ever want a real man instead of junior here, look me up."

"Trust me, I'd become a lesbian first," Sam shot back.

"Keep one eye open, Flack," Truby called as he was dragged away by the guards. "'Cause I get out of here and I'm coming for her and that bastard kid she's carrying. And that ain't a threat. That's a promise."

"Over my dead body, Truby," Flack responded.

"Don't tempt me. 'Cause I wouldn't think twice about offing a piece of shit like you."

Flack didn't respond. He simply watched as the guards tugged a now chuckling, yet still smug Dean Truby away.

"Sorry, about that," the warden said regretfully. "Can't always make them behave themselves when there's guests here."

The small group continued on their way. Sam said nothing. Although the paleness to her skin and her visibly trembling body was witness to the fact she was scared and horrified of what she had seen and heard.

"It's okay," Flack told her, laying his hand on the small of her back. He was furious, but needed to be the strong, calming one. "He's just got a big mouth. He's just bitter about the way things went down. He's never getting out of here and he knows it. He just wanted to stir up shit."

Sam nodded. "But what if he does?" she asked, turning tear filled eyes up at him.

"Never going to happen, Sam. Not after what he did. You and the baby are safe. He's no threat to you guys."

She glanced over her shoulder, frightened eyes riveted on Dean Truby's departing back. "He's evil, Donnie," she said.

He nodded in agreement.

"He'll make good on it, you know. If he does get out of here."

Flack sighed heavily. "I knew this was a terrible idea," he muttered.

"Ready, folks?" the warden asked, holding open the door to the main offices.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Flack told him.

The way he looked at it, the day couldn't possibly get any worse.

**Thanks for everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you and I continue to do this story for you guys!! Even the lurkers! Although I wouldn't mind you guys dropping me a line from time to time!!**


	92. Getting a Grip

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK) AND BABY KIERAN**

**Getting a Grip**

"I'm only pretty sure that I can't take anymore  
Before you take a swing  
I wonder what are we fighting for  
When I say out loud  
I want to get out of this  
I wonder is there anything  
I'm going to miss  
I wonder how it's going to be  
When you don't know me  
How's it going to be  
When you're sure I'm not there  
How's it going to be  
When there's no one there to talk to  
Between you and me  
Cause I don't care  
How's it going to be, How's it going to be."  
-How's it going to be, Third Eye Blind

* * *

Mathew Stobbard was over six feet tall and powerful looking. Broad shoulders and a thick neck and arms that bulged around the short sleeves of his prison coveralls. Despite being closely escorted by three armed guards and being restrained the same way Dean Truby had been, he still carried himself with a profound air of cockiness and indifference. Samantha was struck by his incredible resemblance to actor Daniel Craig. A brief, startling thought of how she could see why Carmen had married the man so long ago crossed Sam's mind. And she scolded herself for being so damn immature at an important time. She was still relatively shaken from the encounter with Truby, and her thoughts were all over the place. She knew she had to get it together and quick.

Just be a quick observation of body language and demeanour, Sam hastily scrawled notes on the yellow legal pad in front of her. She'd seen Mathew's type before. Cool, calm, collected. They would try and be charming and smooth, doling out a line of crap about being rehabilitated and how remorseful they were for what they had done. Some repeat offender giving them lessons on what to say and how to act in order to be granted parole.

She'd been handed that shit many times over. And she wrote as much on the paper and slid it sideways for Flack to read.

_**He's not sorry for a damn thing. **_

As he was led into the small conference room that adjoined the warden's office, he briefly glanced down at the two detectives already seated at the round wooden table. The female -short and modern brown hair and golden eyes and visibly pregnant- looked frightened and out of place. The guy- tall and big with cold, steely blue eyes- was all confidence and kiss my ass attitude. And despite the years that had passed and the physical changes that had taken place, Mathew knew exactly who he was.

Two of the guards led him to the table. Keeping their hands on his biceps as the third officer selected a key from a massive ring of the items that dangled from his utility belt. He unlocked one of the prisoner's wrists, attaching the handcuff to the arm of the chair bolted to the floor before the other guards none to gently, with their hands now on Mathew's shoulders, shoved him down into the seat.

The jail guards moved to the back of the room. Leaning against the wall with their arms crossed over their chests. Keeping a close eye on the prisoner that was now engaged in an intense stare down with the two cops.

"Mathew Stobbard?" Flack asked.

"As if you don't already know that," the prisoner snorted.

"This is Detective Ross from the Crime Lab," Flack continued, gesturing to Sam. "And I'm Detective…"

"I know who you are. You're the cop that nearly broke my back taking me down the night I was kicking the crap out of my wife."

Flack nodded in recognition of that night years ago. "Where I come from, we call incidents like that attempted murder."

Mathew smirked and turned his cold eyes towards Samantha. "So what are you doing in an evil, soul crushing place like this sweet thing?"

She offered up a bright smile despite the fact her legs were shaking uncontrollably under the table. Flack shifted in his chair beside her, so that his knee rested against hers. A small, discreet attempt at calming and comforting her.

"I'm here to talk to you, Mathew," she said, in a confident, even tone. "About what happened eight years ago."

"Seven and a half," he corrected her with a smug smile.

"You're being considered for parole," Sam continued, opening up Mathew's inmate file that rested on the table in front of her. The warden had given it to her prior to entering the room. "In fact, you're hearing is two weeks away. And it's up to me to keep you in here, and up to you to convince me otherwise. So, go ahead. Convince me."

"What is it you want to know?"

"Tell me you how much you've changed in the years you've been in," Sam told him. "Tell me what makes you a different man from what you were when you tried to kill your ex-wife."

"My wife," Mathew informed her.

"Hmmm…" Sam flipped through the papers in front of her. "My mistake. I would have sworn I read somewhere in here that you and Carmen Devine were divorced shortly after the incident. It looked like a legal document filed in the courts to me."

Flack couldn't help but hide a smirk at the sight of the agitated look that crossed Mathew's face. Or at the sweet, innocent and somewhat naïve girl next door persona Samantha was putting on. She had many, many different sides to her. Flack had come to know, and somewhat love, each and every one of them. And she knew just what attitude she wanted to pull out of the proverbial hat to get what she wanted, and needed, out of someone.

"We were divorced," Mathew confirmed. "Three months after I did what I did, she got a lawyer and she filed."

"Did you contest it?" Sam asked.

"Why bother? She wanted nothing to do with me. I had nothing to give her being locked up in here. How you suppose to take care of your own behind four walls and steel bars? You think working in the mess hall or in the laundry earns you enough of a pay cheque to send home to help pay for bills?"

"What?" Flack asked. "Cigarette smuggling and pimping yourself out and making license plates don't pay at least minimum wage?"

Sam coughed to disguise to the laugh that threatened to erupt from her.

Mathew chuckled dryly and stared daggers across the table at the detective. "This is between me and the girl. So you just sit there and be her bodyguard and me and her will chat. Alright?"

Flack held his hands up in mock surrender and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and a smirk on his face, eyes permanently fixed on the piece of garbage in front of him.

"You married?" Mathew asked Sam.

"Why?" she countered. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Just asking. Merely curious. If you are, what would you think about your man being locked up in here for nearly a decade? You gonna stick around while he's in there? You gonna be waiting with arms wide open when he comes walking out those gates? Hell no, you would do the same damn thing she did to me. Find some other poor, desperate bastard to fuck."

"Hey," Flack said. "Watch your mouth."

"Not that you're not real cute and all that," Mathew told Sam. "But after seven years in Sing-Sing, he's.." Mathew smiled and nodded in Flack's direction. "..more my type."

"Sorry, Mat," Flack said. "I'm into brunettes and the intelligent, nerdy Science geek type."

"You're loss, big man," the prisoner said with a shrug. "So back to you darling," he said to Sam. "You married?"

"Tell me how you feel about your ex-wife now, Mathew," Sam ignored the question.

"Why don't you tell me what you want to hear? I know you're just aching for me to go on some tirade about what a dirty, filthy bitch she is for abandoning my ass when I got locked up. Say how bad I wished I'd finished the job off. Rid the world of her nasty self. You're just jonesin' to hear something like that, aren't you."

"I want to hear the truth from you," Sam told him. "Starting with how you feel about Carmen."

"I'm not going to fall for some bullshit so you can trick me into saying crap that will keep me in here longer."

"Look, Mathew," Sam leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I have sat across the table from many cons. Okay? And I know when someone is shitting me. So regardless of what comes out of your mouth, I'm going to know you're lying. So if you are going to sit here and tell me how you're still madly and desperately in love with and feel bad for what you did to her and want a second chance, I'll be able to tell like that," she snapped her fingers together. "If you're fucking with me. And I don't take kindly to being fucked with by the likes of you. So you're best chance of getting out of here my friend is to look me in the eye and make sure you are telling me the honest to God truth. Understand me?"

Flack cleared his throat noisily. Trying his best to fight off the proud grin that was trying to sneak across his face. What he wouldn't have given to just wrap her in his arms and kiss her and say, 'That's my girl'.

"What you want to know, darlin'?" Mathew asked. "Since you're running the show and pretty boy here is just sitting around, looking good."

"Your ex-wife is the reason you're in here," Sam said. "She's the sole reason you ended up sitting in here for almost eight years. That's a tough road to hoe, Mathew. If it wasn't for her managing to get away that night, you probably would have been long gone out of the city with your Tanglewood buddies protecting your every move. I mean, you boys are pretty damn crafty. I bet you Sonny Sassone would have orchestrated a hell of a show. He would have made sure the NYPD never found you. We all know how resourceful and smart he is."

"How you know Sonny?" Mathew asked.

"A long time ago, I was somewhat affiliated with the Pelham Bay guys. I ran into Sonny a few times. And from what I can remember, he was a hell of a leader. Ran a tight ship. No body fucked with his crew. So when Carmen survived that night and Sonny and his boys couldn't help you get away, that really must have pissed you off. And Sonny."

Mathew sighed heavily and nodded slowly. "You know what? It did piss me off. 'Cause that punk ass rat bastard deserved what he got for all the frontin' he was doing. Fake tat. A forgazi. Tanglewood doesn't put up with shit like that. He had it coming and it was justice served if you asked me."

"This is the incident that led to the beating you put on your ex wife?" Sam asked, referring to the papers in front of her.

"Some bitch kid thinking he was all big and bad," Mathew told her. "The real Tanglewood taught him a lesson."

"Says here that the reason you and Carmen got into it was because she refused to help you destroy the clothes you were wearing at the time the Tanglewood boys attacked this kid."

"That's right," Mathew told her. "She's my wife. Wives do shit for their husbands. They don't threaten to turn them into the cops. They stand by their men a hundred percent. No matter what."

"Marriage vows don't mention having to destroy evidence or cover up a crime," Sam commented dryly.

"She was going to turn me in!" Mathew argued. "She was going to call the cops! On her own husband! I wasn't going to put with that shit! I did what I had to do! I stopped her. And I wanted to stop her from good until that fuck head Messer showed up."

"Danny Messer?" Sam asked.

"Yeah…Louie Messer's kid brother. Works for you people now. Go figure he'd turn out to be a fucking pig."

"How'd you feel when Carmen told you she wasn't going to help you?" Sam asked.

"How you think I felt? I was fucking pissed. My own wife! Betraying me! Turning her back on her husband. The man she supposedly loved! What is that shit? Huh?" Mathew's voice rose in anger. "You think that's right to just fuck someone over like that?"

"So you decided to teach her a lesson?" inquired Sam.

"I needed to show her who the fucking boss was!" he spat. "All women need to be shown that once in a while! They need to be kept in line and treated like the bitches they are. Chain them up and beat them like dogs. 'Cause that's what they are! She deserved what she got!"

"But you wanted to do more, didn't you," Sam stated. Calmly egging him on.

"I wanted that fucking bitch dead!" Mathew raged, leaping up from his seat. Yanking at the handcuffs securely attaching him to the chair.

Flack was on his feet as well, one hand instinctively going for his gun, the other reached down to grab a hold of Sam's arm in an attempt to get her the hell out of the there. The guards descending on Mathew, fighting to get him back down into the chair.

She shook off Flack's hand and stood up and leaned forward to challenge Mathew, her palms flat on the table top. ""And you want her dead now, too, don't you Mathew!" she yelled back. "You are just waiting to get out of here and finish off the job. Am I right?"

"You're damn right! And you go back and tell her I said that! You tell her to be looking over her fucking shoulder! 'Cause I get out of here, and I'll be paying her a nice visit."

Sam smiled victoriously and flipped her folder closed and gathered up her things. "You won't be getting out of here, Mathew. You just sealed your own fate."

He blinked. Realizing he'd been tricked. "You fucking bitch!" he raged, struggling to get away from the guards who'd unhooked him from the chair, re-shackled him, and were now dragging him to the door. "I hope I get to see you one day when I get out! You're the next dirty little whore on my list!"

"Get in line!" Sam yelled back, as the guards finally managed to get Mathew out of the room. He screamed and ranted and raved, his obscenity laced tirade continuing as he was escorted back to the main wing of the prison.

The door clicked closed. Leaving Sam and Flack alone in now silent room.

"That was a fucking three ring circus," Flack commented.

"That was tame," Sam told him. "I've seen a lot worse."

"Ever been in a lot worse?" he asked,

"No. And I don't know if I ever want to be. It's why I didn't focus on profiling to begin with. I don't like the way I feel coming out of these things."

"And how's that?" Flack inquired, a hand on the small of her back as he led her to the door.

"Vindictive. Sneaky. Deceitful."

"Just your job, Sammie. It's not who you are outside of the job."

"I know," she said with a sigh. "But that's such a thin line. The job and real life. And sometimes…sometimes I'm afraid I'm crossing it. Sometimes I don't like who I am. Does that make sense?"

"Sure," he said with a nod, as they stepped out into the hallway where the original group of guards and the warden waited to escort them out. "I've felt it a couple of times in my career. But you know what? You're nowhere near the line. You're still firmly on the good side."

"And if I ever do step over it?"

He grinned, laid a hand on the back of her neck and couldn't resist drawing her into him to press a kiss to the side of her head.

"I'll bring you back from the dark side," he vowed with a chuckle.

* * *

Mac stood in the doorway to the small, cozy office, watching as she sat behind the desk, her elbow on the desk top and the side of her head resting in her upturned palm as she wrote feverishly on the report in front of her.

It had been two hours since Sam and Flack had returned from Sing-Sing. Mac had been out of his office when they got back. On a homicide call in Harlem. A rival group of kids fighting it out for time on a basketball court had resulted in a sixteen year old kid pulling a knife and fatally stabbing a fourteen year old. The criminals were getting younger and younger and even more ruthless and calculated these days it seemed. Parents couldn't send their children to school or to the park anymore without worrying about whether their kids would come back in the door at the end of the day.

Cases like that disturbed Mac. Because he couldn't help but question what was wrong with the state of the world when children were carrying weapons and inflicting damage, and in extreme cases, death on each other. He questioned the availability of the parents. There was obviously lack of care and attention when you failed to recognize your flesh and blood was on the verge of self destruction and had the ability to inflict torment on someone else.

He wondered where Mathew Stobbard had gone wrong. What had gone wrong in his young life to make him seek out the likes of Sonny Sassone as a teenager? He'd taken a glimpse into Mathew's background and nothing suggested he lived in a home where there was any form of abuse present. A phone call to his mother had told Mac that up until the age of fifteen, Mathew had been an all around, all star athlete and hung around with a decent crowd. He'd never gotten remarkable grades, but his jovial personality and his good looks had made him popular with everyone around him.

And than one day his mother said that all changed. He began hanging out with an entirely different crowd. A small group of young men that called themselves new school mafia. He started smoking and got onto the bottle. He had several citations for under age drinking and public intoxication. An assault charge that was later dropped when the victim refused to testify. He quit school and spent his time hanging with his 'crew' as he called them. He became mean and controlling and violent. And petty crimes quickly escalated into more vicious, callous ones.

The DA had dropped the ball allowing Stobbard to cop to a lesser plea. It didn't take an Einstein to realize that Stobbard had been out to kill his young wife that night. It was a great miscarriage of justice when someone as brutal as that was able to get away with nothing more than merely a slap on the wrist.

Mac was bound and determined that he was going to see to it that Stobbard stayed right where he was until the end of his sentence.

He knocked on the open door,

She lifted her head and glanced towards the door. Golden eyes widening as she quickly at up in her chair and began frantically organizing the papers and folders in front of her.

"Hey, Mac," she said, embarrassed. "I was just working on this Mathew stuff. I guess I kind of just let my mind wander off a little too much and I got distracted from the job at hand. I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay," he assured her. Holding up two take out beverage cups as golden eyes looked over at him. A small smile curving her lips. "May I come in?" he asked.

"It's your lab, Mac," she reminded him.

"But it's your office," he said. "Your personal space."

"Of course you can come in," she told him, tidying up her desk. "I warn you though, I'm not in the greatest mood right now. I'm not a social butterfly at the moment."

"Not feeling well?" he asked, as he set a cup of steaming decaf tea, lots of milk, down in front of her before taking a seat in the chair in front of her desk.

"This is the longest nine months of my life, Mac," she replied with a sigh. "I didn't think it would drag on like this. Or give me this many problems. I just get past the scare and the operation and now I have heartburn that won't go away and some serious insomnia. I swear, I have so many Tums at home I may as well have stock in the company. I'm just tired and uncomfortable and I still have forever to go it seems."

Mac just smiled. Claire had never gone through a pregnancy -at least not while she was married to him- and he had never, in all his career, had to deal with an expecting employee. It was all new to him. A learning experience to say the least.

"But you're not here to listening to me bitch and moan," Sam said, sipping her tea. "So I will spare you and leave it for poor Don when we get home."

"Have you ever thought of leaving work early?" Mac asked curiously. "Taking advantage of the department's sick leave policy?"

She stared at her boss had if he'd grown a second head.

Mac chuckled and held a hand up in defence. "I know. That's a sticky, dangerous subject to approach with you. I know that you don't want to go off of work until it's absolutely necessary. But to be honest, Flack's worried about you. He thinks you're working too much. You're not sleeping properly or eating right and you're still pulling in forty, sometimes close to fifty, hours a week. He approached me and said he feels that's too many."

She snorted and leaned back in her chair, a hand resting on her baby bump. "Leave it to Don to go into over protective, possessive jerk mode."

"Actually, I have to admit that I agree with him," Mac told her.

"Boy," Sam said. "I bet you never thought you'd see the day where you would ever admit to agreeing with Don Flack about something."

Mac smiled lightly. "He has a valid point, Samantha. You've already had complications with the pregnancy. He doesn't want anything happening to you or the baby. None of us do. And I know that you love to work and feel like part of the team. A piece of the bigger picture. But there comes a time when you have to put the job second and the well being of yourself, and your child, at the top of your priority list."

"My child and I are fine, Mac. And I'd really appreciate it if everyone just backed off and minded their own business."

His eyebrows arched at the harsh tone to her voice.

Sam blushed slightly when she realized what had come out of her mouth. And how it had come out. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm majorly hormonal today. The baby is just sucking all of my brains out and making me say stupid shit…I mean crap…sorry Mac…"

"It's okay," he said with a light laugh. "This is all new to me too, Samantha. I've never had a pregnant employee. So, let's talk about this another way. You tell me what I can do to make things easier on you."

"You've already done enough," she said. "You accommodated me. Made a position just for me and set me up in an office and you give me stuff to keep me busy and off my feet for most of the day. There's nothing more you can do. And you know I appreciate everything you've done for me, Mac. For us."

He nodded. "I was thinking of alternating your hours. Strictly part time. No more than twenty five a week."

"Well seeing as I know there's no sense in arguing with you, I'll just say that's fine and suck it up and pretend I'm happy with it."

"It's for the best," he told her. "For you and the baby. There will be less stress. Less stress means less of a chance of things going wrong."

"That's fine," Samantha said, although her tone made it clear it was anything but fine. She leaned forward in her chair and pulled the pad of paper closer to her. "I made some notes on my meeting with Mathew. I was just working on getting an assessment and report typed it. I should have it done in a few hours."

"You can finish it tomorrow," Mac told her. "Why don't you take the rest of the day?"

"No," she said. He'd hit a nerve with his suggestion. On top of cutting her down to part time and listening to Flack's incessant, aggravating bitching about how worried he was about her and the baby, now he was telling her to cut out of work early despite all of the tasks she still had to do. That was the final straw. "I don't want to go home early, Mac," she said. "I want to stay here and get this done. I did you a favour by going there today. No one seemed to particularly worried about sending a pregnant woman into Sing-Sing."

"That's not true," Mac told her calmly. "Flack was dead set against you going at first."

"Why am I not surprised? He's practically dead set against me going to the bathroom and wiping my ass on my own."

"He was worried. He expressed his concerns and he listened to why I needed you there and than I accommodated his fears by getting in touch with the warden and assuring you were in a safe area of the prison. He has a right to be worried about you. You're his wife nearly and that is his child."

"Well he worries too much," Sam declared. "It's suffocating me! He needs to just relax and take it easy and give me the chance to handle myself."

"Handle yourself?" Mac asked incredulously. "You're six and a half months pregnant with his child! In a maximum security prison and you want him to give you a chance to handle yourself! Against cold blooded murderers and rapists and child molesters? People that would love to prey on someone in your condition! And you want him to relax and take it easy?"

"I don't need him suffocating me! I would have been fine."

"Fine? In your condition? Even if you weren't pregnant. Fine against someone like Mathew Stobbard? Against someone like Dean Truby?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "He told you about that?"

"Flack didn't tell me anything. I haven't seen him since the two of you left. The warden called me and told me my people had had a run in with an inmate. Imagine my shock when I found out who it was."

"Dean Truby wouldn't have even bothered with me had Don not been there," Sam argued. "I wouldn't have known Truby if I tripped over him. And he had no idea who I even was. If Don hadn't have come with me…"

"Someone else would have gone with you in his place," Mac told her. "Either myself or Danny. You weren't going there alone. You were a woman in a prison. Do the math."

"He directed those comments at me because he knew I was with Don. And I'm not just talking in a business way. And he brought up stuff to Don that didn't even affect me. The drugs from the raid and that whole log book bullshit…"

"The stolen drugs and the murder of Kym Tanaka and Flack handing over that memo book are all on Truby's head. Flack did the right thing. Don't put the blame on him. Especially about something that happened long before you were ever part of his life. What happened regarding Flack's handling of the Dean Truby incident and any other case prior to him meeting you is none of your business."

"You're right, Mac, it's not," Sam fumed, tossing her pen onto her desk. "It's not my business what he did or what went on in this department before I arrived here. But it's my business when a shit head like Dean Truby makes personal comments about my husband and my unborn child. And I wasn't blaming him for anything. In fact, when he told me months ago what had happened with Truby, I told him I was behind any decision he made a hundred percent. And I am. Because I'm probably the only person in here that wouldn't fuck him over at a price."

"We're a team here, Samantha," Mac argued back, trying to keep some shred of composure as he stood up and made his way to the door. "No one is going to fuck anyone over. And I resent that you would even suggest that any one on my team would do something like that."

"I never meant to…"

"Take the rest of the day!" he bellowed, stepping out into the hall and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

It was quarter after five when Flack found himself making his way through Sullivan's. He'd stopped becoming a regular face there when he'd made the conscious decision to give up booze. It hadn't been an easy decision and there had been many a time since he'd made that choice, and now, when he'd wanted to fall back on nothing but a bottle of Jack Daniels or some pints of Guinness. He'd almost cracked a few times. Especially when Sam was sick in the hospital and the worry of the operation and the health of both her and their son loomed on the horizon. But he had made a promise to her and his child and especially himself that he was going to clean himself up before his love affair with the bottle became an addiction.

Now if only he had enough will power left to give up smoking. Because a pack and a half a day habit was nothing to brag about. Sam nagged him incessantly about it. How it made his clothes and his breath smell. He found himself brushing his teeth damn near a dozen times a day and carrying around gum or Listerine Pocket Packs so she wouldn't bitch and moan that kissing him was like licking an ashtray. His only saving grace from her wrath was the fact he didn't smoke around her. He did it out on the balcony or outside when she was nowhere in sight. He went for too many cigarette breaks at work and had been called up about it by the duty captain more than once.

But shit, he needed a vice, a crutch to keep him afloat some days.

And this was one of those days. The unexpected and nasty run in with Truby and Mathew Stobbard's ignorance had done a number on him. And those bottles of liqour on the glass shelves behind the bar were all but calling his name. He did his best to block them out and continued walking towards that lone figure at the very end of the bar, nursing a scotch on the rocks.

"Hey, Flack!" Frankie, the long time bartender called out to the young detective as he passed by. "Long time no see!"

"Frankie," he greeted, swerving off his intended path to step up the bar. "Been a while. How's things? How's business?"

"Booming as usual. Want a pint of the good stuff? JD on the rocks?" Frankie all but had the bottle of whiskey and a glass of ice in his hands.

"Nah," Flack said with a shake of his head. "Just a black coffee is fine for me."

Frankie arched an eyebrow but said nothing as he snagged a mug from under the bar and went to a coffee machine at the end of the counter. "You on the wagon?" he asked when he returned, setting the steaming beverage on the bar.

"Trying my best," Flack replied.

"How's the girl doing?" the bartender asked, helping himself to a handful of beer nuts in plastic bowl sitting on the bar. "Last time I saw Messer he was telling me that she's getting closer and feeling it."

"She's nearly seven months," Flack replied, sipping his coffee. "Not too much longer now. Mind you, she wishes she could go right now."

"And you?" Frankie asked.

"I'm starting to wish that kid was born yesterday," Flack chuckled. "The wife's uncomfortable and isn't sleeping properly and has got constant heartburn. She's miserable. And her being miserable, makes me miserable."

"You know what they say about having that constant heartburn?" Frankie asked.

Flack shook his head. "What's that?"

"Kid's gonna have tons of hair. When my Julie was pregnant, all three times, she suffered sun up and sun down for the entire nine months with horrid indigestion. And guess what?"

"What?" Flack asked.

"Every damn one of them kids was born with a head full of thick, curly red hair," Frankie popped a handful of nuts into his mouth. "No word of a lie."

"Guess they all made up for their dad's lack of hair," Flack chided.

"You're a goddamn wise ass," the bartender complained. His green eyes twinkling in amusement. "Get the hell out of here before I jump the bar and lay a beating on your pretty face."

"Like to see ya try," Flack teased the older man as he picked up his mug and journeyed towards the end of the bar. "Your best days are long behind you."

"Screw you, Flack!" Frankie called after him. Than added: "I'll keep a pot on for ya!"

"Thanks!" the detective returned. He took a sip of the steaming brew and than sat the mug on the bar and clapped a hand on the shoulder of Mr Single Malt on the Rocks.

"Cryin' in your booze, huh?" he asked.

"Fuck you, Flack," Speed said miserably. "I didn't ask you here to listen to your smart mouth."

"Fair enough," he said as he loosened his tie before dropping onto the stool. "So why did you ask me here? To a bar? At…." he checked his watch. "…twenty two minutes after five. In the afternoon."

"You always said when I needed a friend, I could count on you," Speed said.

"And you can. And I'm here. So what's up? Why are you in here three sheets to the wind instead of out there fighting to get your woman back?"

"I've been trying," the CSI lamented. "I've been calling her cell and the apartment all afternoon. She's screening the calls big time."

"Well, how about going over there and doing things face to face? 'Cause Sam went home early and when I called to check up on her, Carmen was an hour ago. So I know that your girl is sitting at home right now, drowning her sorrows in a cheap ass bottle of red wine despite an already nasty hangover. So instead of calling, get some balls and go over there."

Speed shook his head and knocked back some of his drink. "Not that easy, Flack," he said.

"Tell me what is so goddamn hard about it. You love her, she loves you. That seems pretty fucking simple to me. You go over there, you tell her what a selfish bitch she's being and that regardless of what she says and thinks, you are man enough to take care of herself and you."

"Would you take that advice if it was Sam?" Speed asked.

"I wouldn't have let it get this far if it was Sam. I wouldn't have let her leave that apartment. I would have kept her there by force if I had to. Until she saw where I was coming from and realized I wasn't a pushover. I sure as hell wouldn't have let her just walk out on me. I did it once after that huge fight, and you know what? I was scared right shitless she wasn't going to come back. I swore than and there that I wasn't letting her go without a fight. Even if it killed me to hang on to her."

"You sound like an obsessive stalker," Speed snorted.

"Call me what you will. But she's my entire world and I'd walk through hell for her."

Speed drained his glass and motioned down the bar for another drink. "Well, you're an evil bastard Flack, and seeing as you're from Hell, something like that would be easy for you."

The detective smirked and shook his head. "Insult me all you want, Speedle. Doesn't make you any more of a 're still a fucking pussy in my books for letting her bail on you like that."

"You know what…" Speed jumped up from the stool and wobbled and nearly fell on his ass. He took a drunken lunch at the bigger man. "You're suppose to be my friend!"

Flack was on his feet and kicking his own stool away before Speed could even take half a step towards him. He reached out and firmly grabbed Speed by the front of his shirt. "Sit your drunk ass down!" he bellowed, and forcibly shoved the smaller man back onto the stool.

Speed frowned and attempted to yank Flack's hands away from him.

Flack tightened his grip and lowered himself to eye level and tugged Speed towards him. "You ever come at me again, Speedle, and I will hand you your ass twice over. Understand me?"

"Get the hell off of me," Speed struggled to push the bigger, stronger man away.

"Than you sit the hell there like a good little boy and listen to what the hell I am saying to you!" Flack warned, loosening his hold on his friend. Not fully releasing him in case Speed, in his drunken state, attempted to take a swing at him. And if that happened, he was laying the guy out.

"Stop meddling in my life and worry about your own," Speed responded, shoving Flack's hands off of his shirt and unsteadily rising to his feet once more. "You and Sam got enough problems to do all of us. So go and fix your shit before you try and fix mine."

"You asked me to come here," Flack reminded him. "You left three messages on my cell asking me to meet you. You really think I want to be here dealing with this shit? I'd rather be at home with my pregnant wife with pizza and wings, on the couch watching the Rangers. But instead I'm here putting up with your crap!"

"Than go," Speed slurred, motioning towards the door. "You go home to your perfect little existence. You're perfect wife and you're perfect baby. Go! Get the fuck out of here! But don't come fucking crying to me when she's out fucking some other guy."

Flack snorted and shook his head and laid a hand over Speed's face and pushed him back down onto the stool. "If you weren't drunk, Speedle, I'd be hauling your ass out onto the street and knocking out those pretty teeth of yours."

Speed had no response. Other than to yell down the bar for his drink.

Flack sighed and took out his wallet and tossed a few bills onto the bar to cover his coffee and his friend's booze. "Go home," he told Speed. "Sleep this off and get your ass to work tomorrow."

"Yes, sir, super cop," the CSI responded, snapping off his sharp salute. "Running away from me, huh, Flack? Can't take the truth about your girl? What were you? Second? Third? On her list of available bachelors in the department?"

"Watch your mouth, Speedle," the detective warned. "Don't be walking it into trouble you can't handle."

"Came this close," Speed said, holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "To fucking her and taking her right away from you."

"I'm warning ya right now, shut your mouth."

"Can't handle the truth about your wife. Can't handle that you probably weren't the only guy she's been banging since she's been here."

That was all Flack needed to hear. A solid left to the face brought Tim Speedle down on his ass at Flack's feet.

"Next time.." Flack said, tossing Speed a napkin from the bar to clean his bloody nose. "…stick to something non alcoholic."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left the bar. And Tim Speedle in a crumpled, lonely heap on the floor.

* * *

Sam was sitting on the couch, a dozen paint swatches laid out on the coffee table as she attempted to decide which shade of blue she wanted to do the baby's room in. She had originally settled on something neutral. She'd never been the type to fall for the whole blue for a boy and pink for a girl way of thinking. But she'd been browzing through a Martha Stewart magazine three days before and had spotted the nursery of her dreams. White crown moulding with light blue walls boasting big, fluffy looking white clouds painted right on them.

She'd gone running - as best as she could run in her condition- into the bathroom where Flack was showering, magazine in hand and jubliation on her face. And she'd yanked back the curtain , startling him and sending shampoo suds cascading into his eyes, and announced she'd found what she wanted. She'd shoved the magaizine under his nose despite the profanity escaping his lips and the fact he was frantically trying to rinse shampoo from his now burning eyes.

When he had taken a look- albeit a blurry one- he'd said "Sure, sure, whatever you want, babe," he gently shoved her away and yanked the curtain back across so he could continue with his shower. She was pretty sure that he had just agreed with the decision because he wanted her out of his hair and was pissed at the way she'd just surprised him like that, and she'd spent the rest of the night in a dejected, forlorn state on the couch with a package of Oreos.

The next day, while she was on the phone with the mayor's office attempting to organize a meeting for Mac, Flack had breezed into her office unannounced despite the door being closed, went behind her chair and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, and a handful of pain samples from Home Depot on her desk.

God I love that man, she thought as she replayed the moment in her mind. Planning the nursery was about the only thing that took her mind off of the incredibly shitty day she had had. She had wandered down to Mac's office before clocking out and the two had had a heart to heart. About how overwhelmed she felt with work and personal issues. About how tired and sick she was and how she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she just couldn't keep up at the pace she was moving at. She accepted Mac's offer of twenty to twenty five hours a week and when he'd escorted her to the elevator, she'd nearly broken down when she said she was sorry for being such a disappointment to him. That he had hired her and things had happened that had prevented her from doing her best for him. And he'd put an arm around her and tucked her into his side and assured her that they had a long boss/employee relationship ahead of them and she had all the time in the world to prove herself. That things just happened. There was no rhyme or reason. That we took whatever came our way and dealt with it.

Sam heard the key in the door and she laid a hand on the arm of the couch and slowly got to her feet. She looked closer to eight months than seven, and she was absolutely miserable because of it. Cursing the man letting himself into their apartment as she headed to the door, a hand on the small of her back.

"Hey," Flack greeted, as he found her waiting for him. His arms and hands full of a pizza box and two plastic grocery bags.

"Hey to you delivery boy," she teased, holding the door open for him and taking one of the bags and his keys. "Mmmm…" she said as the delicious aroma wafted through the apartment. "Smells amazing. What's the occasion?"

"Just because," he replied, as he headed into the kitchen and she shut and locked the door. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Okay," Sam said, joining him in the kitchen and dropping his keys on the microwave and setting the bag on the counter. "I took a nap when I got home and did some paper work."

"You feeling a bit better?" he asked, setting the pizza box and the second bag on the stove. "About the whole going part time thing?"

She had called him when she'd gotten home. In tears over the decision. And he'd done his best to be sympathetic and understanding. She hadn't told him about her fight with Mac. And she doubted Mac would make mention of it.

She shrugged. "It will grow on me," she replied. She moved closer to him. "What happened to your hand?" she asked, taking in the obviously bruised knuckles.

"Speedle ran into my fist," Flack told her.

She arched an eyebrow.

"It's a long story," he said, and laying his hands on her sides, drew her into him for a long, soft kiss. "One I don't feel like relaying at the moment."

"That's fair," she said, smiling against his lips as he kissed her a second time. "The rest of your day was good?" she asked.

"Not bad. Same old." He laid moved one of his hands to her stomach. "How's the baby been?"

"Fine. He took a nice long nap when I did. Than as soon as I got up, boom, he was right back at it."

"Boom?" Flack grinned, rubbing her stomach in smooth, slow circles. "What? You the female Danny Messer now?"

"He's rubbing off on me," she said with a giggle. "Ow!" she cried, when their baby laid a fierce kick to her navel. "I think your son is hungry."

"Takes after his dad," Flack smiled proudly.

"Absolutely," she agreed. "Donnie…about that thing with Dean Truby today…."

He sighed and pulled away from her and began unpacking the bags.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry you had to go through that. The whole log book thing. And that I'm proud of you for the way you handled it and for the way you handled today."

He smiled and looked at her. God, she looked so innocent and beautiful standing there in a pair of denim overalls and a t-shirt and one of his dress shirts hanging open. She had a glow to her that he couldn't describe. And he loved her so much it hurt.

"Just wanted you to know all of that," she told him.

"I love you," he said.

She smiled brightly. "I love you, too."

He turned back to the unpacking. "Where's Carmen?"

"In her room. Avoiding Speed's calls," Sam replied, moving alongside of him. "What did you get for dessert?" she asked curiously.

He opened the bag in front of him and pulled out a tub of ice cream. "Mint chocolate chip," he said, waggling both eyebrows.

She blushed from head to toe and giggled at the private, erotic memory they shared. "You are a dirty boy," she declared.

"Maybe," he said, pulling off the protective plastic seal and than yanking off the lid. "But it was fun."

"Yes," she agreed. "It was."

He stuck his finger into the ice cream and licked it off. Than repeated the motion, only this time, reaching out to smear the sweet dessert down the length of her nose.

"Donnie!" she squealed, attempting to reach up to wipe it off, only to have him take her face in his hands and clean the ice cream off with his tongue. She protested and squirmed and giggled at the absurdity of the moment, only to have him cover her lips with his in a long, deep, toe curling kind of kiss.

"You two make me sick," Carmen grumbled from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Evening, sunshine," Flack greeted.

She smirked and came into the kitchen. Peering into the container. "Mmmm…mint chocolate chip. My favourite."

Sam giggled yet again. Flack smirked.

"What's so funny?" Carmen inquired.

"Nothing," Flack replied, and pulling open the top drawer next to the stove, grabbed some spoons and than picked up the tub of ice cream and headed from the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Carmen asked.

"Bedroom," he replied. "Be in there in five minutes Sam."

Carmen frowned and looked at her best friend who was turning a dozen shades of red. "What's that all about? And do I really want to know?"

"It's nothing," Sam assured her, picking up the pizza and wings box and journeying out into the living room, where Flack already had the Rangers on and was sitting on the couch. She sat the pizza box on the coffee table and ran a hand over his hair and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head before he helped her take a seat beside him.

Carmen joined them minutes later. Bringing out napkins and plates and bottles of water. She sat everything on the table as well and plopped down on the couch as well. So that Flack was between her and Sam.

"Now this is the life," Flack declared, helping himself to a slice of the extra cheese, extra pepperoni pizza.

"What is?" Carmen asked.

"This. Great pizza, some wings, the Rangers. Two beautiful woman to keep me company. Every guy's fantasy of the perfect night in."

Both Carmen and Sam smiled.

Sam leaned sideways and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Carmen laid her head on his shoulder.

Enjoying the warmth and security her friend provided her with.

Enjoying the calm before the storm.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you!! Please, please, please review if you like this! It's what keeps MOB alive and the chapters coming!**

**Thanks to my reviewers last chapter:**

**Brrtmclv  
****Hope4sall  
****muchmadness  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Forest Angel  
****Soccer-bitch  
****ImaSupernatural CSI**


	93. Going for broke

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK. ONLY TWO AND A BIT MORE WEEKS FOR THEM PEEPS!) AND BABY KIERAN (SOON FOR HIS DEBUT TOO!)**

**A/N: Special thanks to Aphina and hope4sall**

**Going for Broke**

"Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air  
Can't live, can't breathe with no air  
It's how I feel whenever you ain't there  
It's no air, no air  
Got me out here in the water so deep  
Tell me how you gon' be without me  
If you ain't here, I just can't breathe  
It's no air, no air

I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew  
Right off the ground to float to you  
There's no gravity to hold me down for real  
But somehow I'm still alive inside  
You took my breath, but I survived  
I don't know how, but I don't even care."  
-No Air, Jordin Sparks & Chris Brown

* * *

Mac knew as soon as he neared his office and saw assistant district attorney James Powell waiting in a chair inside, that the young, vibrant and phenomenally talented Harvard grad wasn't there on a social call. Powell was barely out of his twenties and stood close to six foot five and was built like an NFL linebacker. His wore his blond hair in a military style brush cut and he had chubby, rosy cheeks that made him look younger than he actually was and intense grey eyes that could spark fear in the most hardened of criminals when it came to courtroom battles.

Mac could easily see the kid having an outstanding career as the district attorney one day. With clients and law personnel he was gracious and patient and laid back. In the courtroom, he was a pit bull. He hammered home the facts and got in defensive witnesses' face and didn't back down from anyone. The DA was grooming the young man for bigger and better things so it was of no surprise to Mac to find Powell in his office. What alarmed him slightly, as he slipped into the room, was the uncharacteristically way the ADA was shaking his legs back and forth anxiously and the beads of nervous sweat that dotted the young man's forehead.

"Something tells me you're not here with good news," Mac commented, shutting his office door behind him.

"I wish I could say I was, Detective Taylor. But I'm afraid we've hit a stumbling block with Mathew Stobbard's parole hearing. A massive stumbling block to be exact."

Mac frowned at the sound of that. He journeyed behind his desk and removed his holster from the waist of his pants . Bending down, he pressed a set of numbers on the key pad on the front of the small safe on the back wall. He placed the holster and weapon inside and locked it up right.

"You make me nervous when you say things like that, James," he commented, pulling out his leather chair and taking a seat. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Stobbard's parole hearing is in three days.. And the DA was just informed today, by Stobbard's defence attorney and the parole board that there's an issue with that report you submitted a few days ago. The one detailing Stobbard's behaviour in prison and his apparent lack of remorse for what he did."

"An issue?" Mac cocked an eyebrow. "That report was filed by one of my best people who went there and got exactly what the DA wanted and needed from Stobbard to ensure he remained behind bars. I read and checked that report myself and I saw no problems and issues with it whatsoever. If I had, I would have had my CSI re-write it."

"It's not the report itself," Powell told him. "The report itself was flawless and everything we wanted and more to keep Stobbard behind bars where he belongs. The DA was more than pleased with it and the results he knew it would bring."

"So than what's the problem?" Mac asked. "I submitted it before the deadline set forth by both the DA and the defence."

"You're not the issue, Detective Taylor. It's your employee that you sent to Sing-Sing to interview Stobbard," Powell flipped open the folder in his hands and referred to a paper inside. "A Detective Samantha Ross."

"I know who wrote it," Mac said irritably. "She has a B.A. in profiling. She was perfect for the job."

"Her credentials aren't in question. But her background is."

"Her background? What does her background have to do with how well she does her job"

Powell sighed and leaned forward in his chair. "Detective Taylor, you know the defence plays hard ball. And that they will go to whatever extent they have to, to guarantee their client's release."

"You're talking in riddles, James," Mac snapped. "You're not telling me what Samantha Ross' background has to do with anything."

"The defence did their research," the young man said. "They uncovered evidence that Samantha Ross was a battered spouse."

"She was beaten by an ex fiance who came to New York City to inflict more physical and emotional damage on her," Mac informed the lawyer. "He came to my lab, with a gun, with all intents and purposes to bring her suffering. He was sent back to Arizona and died in prison. What does that have to do with her report?"

"The defence took the matter to the parole board. And they won a ruling based on the fact that her personal history causes her to be too emotionally involved with the nature of Stobbard's crime. That she may have fabricated some parts of the interview so the report highlights only negative aspects of Stobbard's personality."

"That's a load of shit!" Mac exclaimed. "Her personal life does not affect how she does her job. She wrote exactly what happened at that jail and paints Stobbard in his true light. A cold and calculated threat to not only his ex-wife, but society in general. What happened to Samantha Ross in the past has no bearing on how she does her job."

"I understand that. I do. But it wasn't the own reason the defence went on the attack."

"And what are these other reasons?" Mac asked angrily.

"You never told us that this Samantha Ross was a colleague and roommate of Miss Devine."

"I didn't see what that mattered," Mac defended himself. "What does it matter if they're close friends and live together?"

"And you also never told us that Samantha Ross is the fiancee of Detective Don Flack. Or that she's expecting a child with him. The same Detective Don Flack who was the arresting officer the night Stobbard attempted to kill his ex-wife. The same Detective Don Flack who is testifying for us at the hearing."

"Well excuse me, James, if I didn't think the personal lives of my people were any business of the DA's office, the defence or the parole board," Mac snapped.

"Conflict of interest!" the young man argued back. "You've been in law enforcement a long time and you can't tell me that you didn't realize there was a possibility that the defence would play the conflict of interest card!"

Mac sighed and nodded slowly. "I realized it. I just took the gamble that the report would be solid enough that their personal lives wouldn't affect the outcome."

"Well it did, Detective Taylor. Because you took a gamble…" sarcasm and disgust dripped from James' voice. "…this report…" he held it up "…is useless. It's inadmissible!"

The young lawyer stood up and angrily tossed the folder in the direction of the waste paper basket at the side of Mac's desk. The folder was shy of its mark and hit the edge of the can, sending papers tumbling to the floor.

"It's garbage!" James yelled. "All because you decided to take a chance! Do yourself a favour, Detective Taylor," he said, as he gathered up his trench coat and briefcase that lay on the chair beside the one he'd been sitting in.

"What's that?" Mac asked.

"Don't ever go to Atlantic City or Vegas," James suggested as he stalked to the door. "Because you're a damn lousy gambler."

Mac said nothing in return and simply stared after the young man that stormed from the office, slamming the door with such force that the glass rattled and threatened to break.

The head of the New York City crime lab sighed heavily and swivelled his chair around and gazed out the window at the dreary December sky.

He'd laid all his cards on the table and went for broke.

And lost.

* * *

The Manhattan office of the New York City Clerk was located on One Centre Street. Diagonally across the street from City Hall and its respective park. At eleven thirty in the morning, Sam and Flack parked in the underground lot and took the short elevator ride to the second floor. Second floor south, the instructions, in Flack's hand writing, said on the small piece of yellow sticky note paper he held in his nervous, trembling hand. The fingers of his other equally as shaking hand, entwined tightly with the fingers with his soon to be wife. Who was getting quite the kick out of him being so damn petrified as they stepped off the elevator and hung a left and journeyed down the hall to their destination.

The Wedding Licence Bureau.

"You can always back out," Sam suggested, as he reached for the handle on the glass door in front of them.

"No way in hell," Flack declared. "I managed to find you and somehow hold on to you. Not a chance I'm bailing now. Why? You thinking of bailing on me?"

"Once or twice," she said with a grin, her eyes sparkling up at him.

He smirked. "Very goddamn funny. I swear, you better not stand me up Christmas Eve. You don't show up and I'm hunting you down."

"Where am I going to go?" she laughed. "Look at me. I'm a beached whale. I can't go to the corner store without getting winded. It's highly unlikely I'm going to hope the next Greyhound out of the city."

"Better hope not," he said, opening the door and motioning for her to go ahead of him. "'Cause I want the ring back if you're planning on taking off."

"Are you crazy? I'm finding the closest pawn shop and getting some money from this sucker."

There was a small line up of people waiting to be served by half a dozen city clerks. Several other couples were filling out the required forms and information in a cluster of chairs in the middle of the spacious, well lit room. Sam yanked off her hat and gloves and shoved them into her jacket pocket before untying her scarf and unbuttoning her coat as they waited in line. Christmas carols were being piped through speakers in the ceiling and in the far corner someone had erected a looming tree with nothing but silver, white, and blue balls and garland. It had obviously been decorated by a professional. Sam didn't know anyone that could get a Christmas tree to look that perfect and organized. Other than the decorators down at Macy's and Martha Stewart herself.

"How come our tree doesn't look like that?" she asked Flack, nodding in the direction of the enormous Christmas tree.

"Maybe because ours is like three feet tall so you could reach the top of it," he teased, than dodged an elbow to the stomach. "I mean, how much decorations can you put on a midget tree?"

"You're mean," she pouted dramatically.

"Come here," he said, reaching out and laying a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her into him. "I'm just kidding, baby," he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "And I'm sorry you're the size of a twelve year old boy."

"Screw you, Don Flack," she said, her face buried in his chest, an arm sneaking underneath his coat and around his waist. "I'm tired," she complained with a noisy yawn. "I really wish your son would take it easy on me at night. I can only get away with taking naps in my office for so long."

"Once we're done here, we can go get some lunch and than I'll take you home. You can sleep all day if you want. You know it was a good thing, right? Going down to part time hours?"

She nodded. "Makes me feel pretty useless, though," she said with a sigh. "I didn't think being pregnant would wipe me out this badly. But it has just kicked my ass."

"Not too much longer," he assured her, laying a hand on her stomach and rubbing it in slow, smooth circles.

"Too bad we couldn't have babies in six months," she said, inching forward as the line progressed. "I mean, why nine months? Why so long? Whose idea was making the process last forty weeks?"

"The big man upstairs," Flack said. "Guess he just figured you women needed to be tortured for making Adam eat that apple so he said here, pregnant for three quarters of a year. Boom."

"You have been friends with Danny way too long," Sam informed him. "You're even using his catch phrase now."

"I'll have you know that I've been using it probably longer than he is. Few years ago, we had this case where blood was dripping through the ceiling of this apartment, which was rented to a former Miss Iowa. Paige something or other. Anyway, we're going about our business doing a second search of the apartment when it turns out that the DB, who was missing when we first got there and than found stuffed down the garbage chute, was actually Paige's friend. Can't remember her name off hand. But Danny and I were talking about how you can get anything delivered in New York City. I was telling him how if I wanted one, I could get a pastrami sandwich from the Korean deli by my old place, delivered to me. And I said, BOOM, done at the end of my story."

"Are you telling me that you can remember talking about pastrami sandwiches four years ago but you can't remember the supposed victim's or the actual victim's, names?"

Flack nodded.

"Wow…I mean I know you love to eat, Don. But that's just a tad bit strange."

"Not as strange as me finding you watching tv last night at one in the morning and eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich with relish on it. Now that was gross."

"I told you not to bite into it."

"Relish, Sam," he grimaced. "With peanut butter and banana? I mean, come on."

"Hey, it's what your son wanted. Talk to him. Do you have all of our stuff?"

He nodded and reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope. Inside of which was their birth certificates to use as identification. Two pieces were required to obtain a marriage licence in the state of New York, and their employee I.D. cards could be used as the second.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, noticing his hands were still trembling. "You're really freaked out."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This is a huge step, Samantha," he said in an uneasy voice.

"Donnie, if you don't feel you're ready for this so suddenly, I already told you that that's okay," she reminded him, her voice gentle and soothing. "I mean, I'll be disappointed and a little hurt, but I don't want you to feel like you're being forced into anything. If you think it's better to wait until after the baby is born and we get the whole parenting thing under our belts…."

He shook his head. "I don't want to wait. I'm ready for this. I want to get married. I'd marry you tomorrow if I could. Shit, I'd find Bloomberg himself and force him to marry us right this second if it was possible. It's just…it's a massive step and it's freaking me out a bit. Other than deciding to join the academy, I've never made a decision this big. Honestly…I'm scared."

She smiled and hugged his arm. "So am I," she told him. "It's normal to be scared. We're going to be spending the rest of our lives together. That's just a little freaky."

"Do you want to back out?" he asked, taking a tentative step and finding himself at the front of the line.

She shook her head. "That doesn't mean you can't," she quickly added.

"I'm too far gone to back out, Sam. I just…I worry that we're going to end up like my parents. Their marriage was over a long time ago. They're still together, but whatever they had was dead a long time ago. And I'm terrified one morning you'll wake up and realize this wasn't for you. Being married to a cop. When you could have had so much better."

"You're wrong, Donnie. I already have who I want and what I want. And nothing will ever change that. How do you know that somewhere down the road you're not going to be tired of me and wish you'd never hooked up with me."

"Never going to happen, Sam. I've told you that a million times."

"Next please!" the clerk at the far end called out.

"Tell me now, Don," Sam said, grabbing a hold of his hand and squeezing it tightly. "Nothing is signed. We can just walk out and do this when you're ready."

He sighed heavily and looked down at the envelope he was holding and than at the engagement ring and band of diamonds that adorned the love of his life's finger.

"Next please!" the clerk repeated in an annoyed tone.

"Donnie," Sam pressed, wanting and needing an answer. A reaction.

He nodded as if coming to a decision in his mind and leaned down to kiss her quickly.

"I'm ready," he said.

* * *

It took less than half an hour to fill out the paperwork and have it processed. Thirty five dollars on the credit card later, Flack was now in possession of an official marriage licence and a litany of small yet important instructions from the city clerk. After the licence was completed and returned by the official performing the ceremony, the clerk would have a certificate of marriage registration sent out to them within fifteen days. The licence itself was valid for sixty days and New York City laws decreed that couples had to wait a full twenty-four hours before having a marriage ceremony.

Having that simple yet life altering paper in his hands had taken the weight of the world off of Flack's shoulders. It made it seem as if the most difficult part was over and now all he had to in less than three weeks was show up on time at that courthouse. He'd already pledged his undying and unwavering love and affection for the woman that now strolled hand in hand with him through the lightly snow covered streets. The only thing left to do was get those rings on their fingers and make the whole thing legal.

He'd seen the way Sam had paused, when, during the filling out of the application, she'd gotten to the part where it asked what she wanted her name to be legally changed to when she was married. Was she going to keep her maiden name? Hyphenate both names? Just go with his? He'd teased her about it. That Flack wasn't exactly the most appealing last name in the free world and she had every right to tell him to shove it and stick with Ross. Hell, he'd said laughing, I've even considered changing my name to Ross.

She'd smiled at the good natured teasing and leaned sideways and kissed him softly before turning back to the task at hand and quickly and confidently filling out the missing piece.

Samantha Marie Flack.

Seeing his last name attached to her first had been an almost surreal experience for him. Because never in his life had there been a woman that he had considered ever sharing his last name with.

Even now, when he ran the name through his mind and thought of her as his wife, it seemed unreal. Too good to be true, almost.

They'd left his squad in the underground lot and opted to walk a couple of blocks to the small Italian restaurant/bistro that they had passed on the drive to the clerk's office. It was a brisk December day. Half an inch of snow crackled under their feet as they walked down the sidewalk. A light, gentle snow tumbled down. Yet there was a warmth that existed between them that seemed to be burning hotter as the days got closer and closer to their wedding. And the birth of their first, but hopefully not last, child.

"You've got this goofy grin on your face," Sam commented playfully, as they stopped at the red light and she pressed the button for the cross walk.

"Can't help it," he said, dropping her hand and reached out to tighten the under the chin ties on her wool hat and tuck her scarf further into her jacket. "I'm disgustingly happy."

She smiled up at him. Looking so young and innocent and pure with no makeup on and those freckles on full display as her nose crinkled in contentment.

He couldn't resist taking her face in both of his hands and covering her lips in a slow, languid kiss.

"Still freaked out?" she asked, taking his hand once more as the light changed in their favour and they headed across the street.

He shook his head. "You?"

"A little," she admitted.

He frowned.

"I was just thinking about how I've gained more weight since we bought the rings and since I picked out my outfit and I'm worried neither will fit."

"It's all good, Samantha," he assured her, dropping her hand in favour of circling her waist with his arm. "I guess if worse comes to worse, we get the judge to come to the apartment and you get married in slippers and pyjamas."

She snorted. "Now isn't that the memory you want of your wedding ceremony. Boy, I bet when you used to think about getting married your thoughts never included a massively pregnant fiancee and six guests and a small civil ceremony."

"No, they didn't," he admitted. "But than I never thought about getting married before. So it's all new to me. And I'm not into all that fancy stuff. Tons of guests and a ten course meal and a gigantic church and all that crap. And a tux. Come on, that's just not me."

"I don't know," she said. "You look damn hot in a tux. And you've never ever thought about it? Getting married?"

He shrugged. "Maybe once or twice when I got into my late twenties. But it was more thinking about how I wanted to meet someone that I'd consider marrying and spending the rest of my life with and having kids and all that. Because the women I've dated…never mind. Devon. That's all I have to say. Your imagination can take over for there."

"She was a little bit of an airhead," Sam reasoned. "And she had that clingy, ex-girlfriend, stalkerish Single White Female thing going on. But I bet she wasn't all that bad when you were actually with her. I mean, she had to have some good points or you wouldn't have hung around that long."

"It wasn't that long. It was barely two months."

"Two months for you is a lifetime," Sam teased. "But she must have had something that you really, really liked or you would have just dumped her after you got what you wanted. Something held you there and made you keep going back for more."

"I guess," he said, and thought about just what it was that had kept him with Devon that long.

The sex wasn't that good but at least it was something and after the bombing, intimacy of any kind had been on massively short supply. Mostly because when things got down to it, women bailed because of his whole not taking his shirt of paranoia. So relatively boring, crappy sex was better than no sex for someone that was practically starving from not having it in so long. He'd liked having someone around after a long day that he could talk to. Although she did rapidly change the subject whenever he brought up a tough case or anything remotely disgusting. But at least he had someone. He wasn't alone. He had been tired of being alone.

But not tired enough that he would have ever considered marrying her. Not so she could parade him around at charity events like he was some kind of trophy. Pay his way to things. That crap got old fast and it was a serious blow to his ego to be treated like a pauper by a woman. So when the novelty of banging a blue collar guy had worn off, Devon was history. And he had missed her for a while. But never enough to call her up and hook back up with her. He figured it was far better to accept being alone than to pretend that he was in love and happy.

"I guess I just needed somebody," he said at long last. "I didn't want to be alone. I needed and wanted to feel like someone loved me."

"And did you?" Sam asked. "Feel that way?"

He nodded. "For a while. Until I realized it was more lust the two of us were feeling than love."

"And when did you realize that? Before or after you two broke up?"

"After. When I met you and things started happening so fast and I was feeling things I'd never felt before…that's when I realized what her and I had was bush league."

She laughed at that.

"What?" Flack asked, smiling at the sound of her musical laugh. "What's so funny?"

"Leave it to you to find a way to compare love, or lack there of, to sports."

"Well when you think about it, being in love with someone is a lot like hockey," he said.

She frowned. "And how's that?"

"Simple. It's all fun and games until someone looses an eye…"

"And than it's a sport," she smirked and pinched his stomach and than playfully pushed him away from her.

"It's true," he chuckled.

"You're a strange man, Don Flack," she declared, reaching out to grab a hold of his arm when her foot hit a patch of ice buried under the snow and she slipped slightly.

"But you love me," he said, smiling at her and wrapping his arm around her waist once more, keeping a tight grip on her to prevent her from falling on her ass. "Maybe we should have taken the car. Last thing I need is you wiping out and going into premature labour."

"I don't know about that," she sighed. "I was ready to have this baby yesterday. And I am almost seven and a quarter months now…so the baby would be perfectly fine if he was born now."

"How about we just leave him where he is for now? Longer he's in there, the better off he is."

"How long to you want me to be pregnant for?" she asked. "Forever?"

"No…but I was thinking that we should have another one really soon after Kieran. You know, so they're close in age and he has someone to play with and what not."

"Okay," Sam agreed, pausing as they reached the small Italian restaurant. "On one condition."

"What's that?" Flack asked.

"You carry the baby and give birth to it."

"Even if it was medically possible, babe, no way. I could never do it. I'm a wimp. I stub my toe on the end of the bed and I'm looking to have my whole foot amputated to deal with the pain. You're a hell of a lot stronger than I am. But other kids…I don't want to just have one."

"Well I'll tell you what. I'll have this one and see how traumatic it is before I decide on another one so soon. Okay? Fair enough?

"But we can still do the whole thing that leads to baby making, right? I mean, practice does make perfect."

She grinned. "Is that all you think about?"

He leaned down and kissed her gently. "It's one of two things," he told her.

"And what's the second thing?" she inquired curiously.

He smiled and pulled open the door to the restaurant. "Food," he replied simply.

She rolled her eyes and journeyed inside. "You are such a man," she complained.

* * *

They sat a quaint table for two near the back of the restaurant. Tucked away from the noisy, bustling crowd at the front of the establishment. It felt refreshing and relaxing to be able to spend some time together, just the two of them, where neither felt compelled to talk about work related issues. They stayed away from anything that involved Mathew Stobbard and the upcoming hearing. Briefly touching on Speed's vain attempts to contact Carmen and the more than three dozen messages that had been left for her on his behalf. Carmen, in Flack's opinion, was being a stubborn, immature bitch and had told her as much the night before when she went into a rage at yet another Speedle profession of undying love and support left on her cell's voice mail.

Flack sipped a double espresso while Sam nursed a decaf tea and they nibbled on a basket of fresh baked and still warm foccacia bread while waiting for their meal.

"So you know how I've always avoided the whole marriage thing like the plague," Flack said. "But we've never really touched on you."

"I was suppose to marry Zack," Sam reminded him. "And it never happened. And you know why that is."

Flack nodded. "I know he was a crazy, lying, cheating bastard. But I mean, what kind of wedding was it suppose to be?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "It was a wedding. Formal, in a church. An expensive white gown I sold in the end before I came here. Fancy reception, lots of guests. "

"Lots?" he asked. "As in how many? How big was big?"

"Two hundred people."

He coughed on his sip of espresso. "Did you even know that many people?"

"I knew about forty. The rest were people Zack knew from his work and his extended family and guys he went to school and played football with. It was his idea to have a huge thing. It was all about showing off to him. Letting people know what he had and making himself look good. That everyone knew what belonged to him and they better not try and fuck that up."

"Did that include you?"

"I was a possession to him. Something that he could use as much as he wanted and treat as bad as he wanted and than clamp down on when he felt threatened that someone would try and take it. That's all I was. Just a little toy he could dress up and parade around to make himself look and feel good."

"So why did you stay? If things were that bad right from the start why'd you stick around? Lots of guys would have killed to be with you, I'm sure. If he was such a bastard how'd you wind up getting so deep involved with the guy that you came within twenty four hours of marrying him?"

"Lack of self worth, I guess. Someone says bad things for long enough, you start believing them, Donnie. He made me think that there were no other guys in the free world that would even look at me. That I was damn lucky he even bothered with me. I believed him when he said he loved me and wanted to take care of me. Most of all, I believed I was in love with him."

"And were you?"

"I don't know. I guess I was at first. Even when things started going really bad I still believed there was some good in him. That I could change him. I don't know, Donnie. Why are you asking me all of this?"

"I was just curious. I guess I just wanted to hear what is different between then and now."

"A lot is different," she said. "You and Zack are nothing alike. I didn't marry Zack and I'm marrying you. I don't see why we even have to talk about this."

"I was just wondering if maybe you were so against having a big thing with me because maybe it reminded you of Zack."

"No. That's not why I didn't want a big thing with you. I just wanted to marry you and it didn't matter to me if it was just us and the judge and a custodian as a witness or if it was in front of a priest and three hundred people. And maybe on day we can have a big thing. On an anniversary or something. I know how stressful and expensive a big wedding is. And I don't need anymore stress while I'm pregnant. Maybe somewhere down the road we might want huge thing. But right now it's no big deal and I don't know why you're turning it into one."

"I wasn't, Sam. I was just asking you about your past because you asked me about mine when we were walking here. That's it. I wasn't asking you about it to piss you off."

"I'm not…" she fought to control her voice as the waitress brought their meals. Putting on a polite, appreciative smile as the young woman set the heaping plates of pasta and salad down in front of them. "I am not pissed off," she said in a calmer tone as the waitress left. "I just don't like discussing Zack. Especially with you."

"That's fine," he said. "I wasn't asking to upset you. I was just curious. You never talk about what things were like in Arizona that's all."

"Arizona is the past," Sam told him, digging into her vegetarian lasagna. "And that's where I want to keep it."

"Fair enough," he said. "I know it's hard for you, Sam. To talk about things in your past. But I'm here for you. Always. You know that right?"

She nodded and chewed quietly on her lasagna.

Flack decided not to pursue the subject of Arizona or anything remotely related to it any further. Instead, he dug into his plate of chicken parmesan and a Caesar salad and they ate in companionable silence for several long minutes.

"I gotta start studying for that sargeant's exam on the weekend," he said, spearing a piece of romaine with his fork.

"You are such a procrastinator," she teased and winked at him as she popped a piece of bread into her mouth.

"I suck at anything that has to do with school or studying. I was horrible at exams in high school. I'd study like crazy and think I was ready and I'd get in there and just bomb completely. I am dreading this test. Because I want this so bad and I don't want to screw it up."

"I can always help you," she suggested. "Help you study. Tutor you."

A slow, wide grin spread across his face. "Tutor me, huh?"

"Yeah…why? You don't like the idea of me tutoring you?"

"Sure I do," Flack said, chewing on a piece of chicken. "You know what the best part of having you tutor me would be? If you put your hair back in a bun and wore some funky dark framed glasses and wore a tartan skirt that barely covers your ass."

She frowned. "Why is it you have this uncanny ability of twisting something around and making it perverted?"

"Oh I'm sorry," Flack said. "Did I offend you? Your virgin ears? How old are you again?"

"Apparently I look young enough to be your daughter. Or so said that guy on the street a few months back."

He smirked and pointed his fork at her. "You're a smart ass."

She just smiled.

"But come to think of it, I may take you up on that tutoring thing. I have no idea what I'm doing, Sam. And you're the scholar in the relationship and maybe you've got some tricks up your sleeve that will help me out. Like I said. I don't want to screw this up."

She sipped her tea. "I may have two or three things that may help you out."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Flash cards are always good. Write things down on them. Like sections of the penal code and you have to to tell me what number and section and context it's used in. Little pop quizzes for each section you study…"

"Okay…I can handle that."

"A yard stick so when you're a bad boy I can bend you over the table and smack your ass with it," she said casually.

He laughed. "And you call me perverted! You're far worse than I am."

"Girl's gotta have a little fun," she reasoned. "And you've been testing my patience lately and just aching for a punishment."

"I've already apologized over and over again for leaving the seat up three nights in a row," he said.

"There's something I do not find particularly pleasant about finding myself ass first in freezing cold toilet water."

"You don't find anything wrong with finding yourself ass first in…"

She balled up her napkin and tossed it at him. "Keep the comment to yourself, Detective Flack!"

"You know what Sam? Us talking like this? About sex? It's normal. Means we're totally comfortable with it and ourselves. We have healthy attitudes about it. We're open minded. And let's face it, we enjoy it and we're both damn good at it."

"You have been an outstanding teacher," she praised.

"Yeah? Well you're a very loyal and willing disciple."

They both laughed and shared a smile and a long, tender gaze across the table before going back to their meals. The waitress had cleared the table and Sam was enjoying a piece of Tiramisu when Flack's cell phone, tucked into the pocket of his winter coat draped over his chair started to ring.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Flack said with a sigh, and rummaged through his coat pockets.

"I'm surprised you actually managed to sit down with me and eat a proper meal and relax before you were called out," Sam commented. "When's the last time we had lunch or dinner and conversation while you've been working?"

"I don't know…a month? Maybe more?" he snagged his phone and pulled it out and checked the caller ID.

"Dispatch?" Sam asked.

"Mac," he replied and pressed talk. "Yeah..this is Flack…"

Sam watched curiously as he listened quietly for a few minutes before giving a curt nod.

"I'll just take Sam home and I'll right over," Flack said into the phone and hung up.

"Everything okay?" she inquired.

"Mac wants me to come and see him. Something about Mathew Stobbard's parole hearing. He didn't say much, but the tone of his voice….I could tell whatever it is, isn't good."

Sam sighed heavily. "When is it ever?" she mused.

* * *

The phone calls weren't working.

He'd left an obscene amount on both her home and cell phone. He'd sent flowers and notes to the lab and he never received a response. He'd spent nearly every waking moment since she'd walked out on him in an alcohol fuelled depression.

Push had come to shove. He wasn't taking any more of her shit and he damn sure wasn't taking no for an answer. He was going to get back what was his even if it broke him in the process.

Which was why, when Sam and Flack made the way down the hall towards their apartment from the elevator, Tim Speedle was on his ass, legs stretched out in front of him, his back leaning against their door.

"Figured it was time for a face to face," Speed said, turning soulful dark eyes up at the two figures who stood above them. "I've called her tons of times, I've sent her notes and flowers. And nothing. I come here and I bang on the door and I plead for her to answer and I pour my heart out and she ignores me! Can you believe that? Why the hell is she doing this to me?"

"Tim honey, " Sam began in a soft, understanding and compassionate voice. "Carmen isn't here."

He looked at the tiny brunette. Perplexed. "What? She's had Thursdays off for the last two months."

"When you asked Mac for some time off, she had to help Danny and Hawkes pick up the extra shifts," Sam explained. "She's not in there ignoring you. She's at work."

"She is?"

Sam nodded. "I wouldn't lie to you, Tim. And how's your eye?"

Speed touched his bruised and swollen eye tenderly. "Your boy has a hell of a left on him," he said, casting a smirk at Flack, who had his hands on his hips as he paced the width of the hall shaking his head, apparently not impressed at finding Speed on his door step.

"Why don't you come inside," Sam said, snatching Flack's keys out of his hand so she could unlock the door. "I can make you something to eat? Some coffee?"

Speed nodded and got up off of the floor. "Coffee sounds good," he said in response. "I'm not that hungry."

"That's the first time a man has said that around here," Sam teased, winking at Flack over her shoulder. "Go ahead, Tim," she said, unlocking the door. "I'll be in in a second."

"Thanks," he said, and let himself into the apartment, the door clicking closed behind him.

Sam turned to Flack and held his keys out to him.

"Think you can hunt Carmen down?" Sam asked, moving to her fiance and laying her hands on his sides.

"I can fit some time into my crazy ass schedule," he replied. "You know, to tear her another asshole."

Sam smiled. "God, I love you," she said.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, than her lips. "I'll call you and let you know how far I get with her," he said. Than handed her the envelope holding their licence and birth certificates.

"Okay," she accepted another kiss, a longer, sweeter one. Than watched as she headed down the hall towards the elevator. "Donnie!?" she called.

He paused before pressing the down button.

"Thank you," she said. "For lunch. It was nice spending some normal time with you."

He smiled and winked at her. "Just think. In nineteen days we'll be married. Nineteen days and about…" he checked his watch. "Eight hours, forty seven minutes and about, I don't know, give or take thirteen seconds."

"You're scary," Sam declared and turned to the door.

"Hey!" Flack called to her.

She glanced down the hall.

"I love you, too, Thumbelina," he said, using the nickname he'd developed for her a few days ago and he knew drove her absolutely nuts.

She smirked and disappeared into the apartment.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean we can't use it?"

Flack posed the question to Mac Taylor as he stood, in the middle of the head of the Crime Lab's office, holding the report that Samantha had busted her ass to get finished in his furiously trembling hands. The moment Mac had handed him that file and told him, with a straight face and no emotion in his voice that that report was useless as shit, Flack had felt his temper begin to simmer.

He promised himself that he wasn't going to lose it. Despite the fact he wanted to rip those papers in half and tear Mac a new one, the rational side of him told that if he wanted that promotion, not only did he have to pass that dreaded exam, he also had to show he was graceful under pressure.

"Mathew Stobbard's attorney filed a motion that that report be rule inadmissible. And the parole board reviewed the motion and agreed with him," Mac answered calmly, sitting behind his desk with his legs stretched out and his hands behind his head as if this news was of no great cause for concern.

"Why?" Flack asked. "Sam did everything right. She asked all the right questions and never once stepped over the line. She had Stobbard hook, line and sinker. She didn't do anything during that interview that the defence could call her up on."

"This has nothing to do with the way she handled herself or Stobbard," Mac responded.

"So what does it have to do with, Mac? Because from where I stand, and as the person who was in the room when that interview went down, I can tell you for a hundred percent certainty that this report alone could keep that sonofabitch in Sing-Sing where he belongs."

"The report is not what's in question, Flack. It's the person who wrote it."

"Five seconds ago you told me if had nothing to do with her!" Flack fought to keep control. "Now you're saying it does. So what is it, Mac? Do you even know."

"Conflict of interest," Mac told him.

"Okay," Flack said. "You wanna elaborate on that or am I suppose to guess?"

"The report can't be used because Samantha is a colleague of Carmen's and they have a personal relationship outside of work."

"They're roommates, Mac. Not lesbian lovers."

"And because you and Samantha are getting married and having a child and you were the first officer on the scene."

"Wait a second, Mac," Flack laughed dryly and approached the desk and tossed the report on it. He leaned forward, palms on the desk. "Are you telling me you never told the DA any of that?"

"If I did would I be talking to you about this right now?"

Flack shook his head and put a hand to his forehead as he back away from the desk. Sighing heavily he ran a hand over his face. "We needed to nail, Stobbard, Mac. That report was essential to keeping him in prison. And now you're telling me it's nothing but a piece of shit? You of all people should know that you have to disclose that kind of info to all the parties involved! I just assumed you did! 'Cause had I know you were keeping that back, I would have known we'd get nailed by the defence and I never, ever would have put Sam in the position she was. I trusted you, Mac! To have our backs in this!"

"And I did that, Flack!" Mac argued back. "I made sure the two of you were in the safest place possible!"

"Well isn't that just so gracious of you," Flack snorted, pacing the office. "I put my wife and my unborn child at risk! For the greater good! And now you're sitting here telling me it was all for nothing! Jesus Christ, Mac!"

"I understand you're upset," the older man said.

"Upset? No. I'm not upset. I'm pissed off. Livid. 'Cause if they ruled that report inadmissible, you damn well know the chances are that my testimony will be too. I might not even make it onto the stand."

Mac sighed. "I took a chance, Flack. That the defence and the parole board would overlook the relationships."

"Overlook the relationships!" Flack laughed louder this time. "Those bottom feeders don't overlook it if you pick your ass in a public place. And you expected them to think it was okay that Carmen and Sam are roommates and me and Sam are having a kid and getting married. You've got to be kidding me."

Silence fell between the two men. Flack stood in the middle of the office, one hand massaging his throbbing temples and the other on his right hip, just above his holster. Mac sat forward in his chair with his elbows on his desk, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he watched the young man in front of him.

"So what now, Mac?" Flack asked, breaking the silence. "Where we go from here?"

"Honestly? There's nowhere to go. All we can do is hope that your testimony is allowed."

"Shit," Flack muttered. "As if the month of December isn't stressing me out as it is."

"I screwed up, Don," Mac said quietly. "I took a chance and it backfired. I screwed up. Huge."

Flack just nodded. He wasn't about to come right out and agree with the boss of the crime lab.

"I guess that's as good of an apology as any," the homicide detective said and made for the door.

"Do you want me to call Samantha and tell her?" Mac asked.

"I'll handle it," Flack replied as he opened the door to the office. "I usually am the bad guy when it comes to the relationship."

"Keep your head up, Don," Mac called, as the detective stepped out into the hallway.

Yeah, right, Flack thought.

* * *

Despite his arguments that he wasn't hungry, Tim Speedle polished off two plates of Hamburger Helper that Samantha had whipped up for him. It was far from the organic food that he coveted, but he'd been drinking more than eating as of late and his stomach was beginning to rebel against him. He needed a good meal. A few cups of strong coffee and a shower and a shave. And some peaceful, sound sleep. Something his torture mind and soul was refusing him.

Now him and Samantha sat quietly across the kitchen table from each other. He sipped a massive mug of steaming black coffee while she nursed a tumbler of white and chocolate milk mixed together and snacked on cheese and crackers.

"I need your help, Sam," Speed said in a shaky voice.

"I don't know what I can do," she told him honestly.

"Talk to her. Make her call me. Make her see me."

"Both Don and I have talked to her," Sam told him. "We've both laid into her and it's gone in one ear and out the other. It's like talking to a brick wall. She's a tough nut to crack, Tim. I think she's even worse than Don in the stubbornness department most days."

"Talk to her again, Samantha. She's your best friend. She loves you and respects you and will listen to you."

Sam sighed. Knowing she'd already hit a dead end in the attempting to smack some sense into Carmen department. But the way Tim looked at her with those pleading dark eyes and that lost little boy expression…her heart just couldn't take it.

"I'll try," she told him. "I don't know how far I will get but I'll try. It's all I can really do."

"I wouldn't be here begging like this if I wasn't out of all other options," Speed said.

"I have to admit," Sam offered up a small smile. "It does a little something to me to see a grown man beg."

Speed managed a grin. "Well, we all know you're a bit disturbed."

"I prefer insane," Sam joked.

Speed ran his palms along the side of his cup. "I told her. About us."

"There was no us, Tim. There was a moment."

"Does Flack know?"

Sam picked up the tumbler of milk and took a sip. "I told him a long time ago. When we were in couples therapy."

"What was his reaction?"

"Other than him wanting to rip your head off and shit down your throat?" she smirked. "He took it well considering. He trusts me, Tim. Explicitely. And not throwing a fit over me and you being here alone? That's a major step for him. He's trying so hard to be a better person. And so am I."

"Seems to be working," Speed commented. "For both of you."

She nodded. "We have to work really hard to keep it together. But I love him and it's all worth it. I can't imagine my life without him. I mean, it seems as if he's always been in my life. I know that sounds weird but it's how I feel. Today, at the licensing place, he was filling out his section of the papers and I looked at him and I thought for the first time, this man is going to be my husband. We're having a son together. And it was the most surreal feeling I've ever experienced in my life. Sounds corny and soap opera-ish. But that's how I felt."

Speed smiled. "Very few people find what you guys have. We all wish we could but very few do."

"You and Carmen have that," Sam told him. "And you need to do something about it to keep it that way."

He nodded and sighed heavily.

And prayed for some guidance.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! And even to those who are just lurking! I appreciate all of you and look forward to the reviews! So please, drop a line if you like this! Much love, BEG75**

**Thanks to:**

**Hope4sall  
****Aphina  
****Brrtmclv  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****muchmadness  
****GregRox  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Joanne F  
****Soccer-bitch**


	94. What goes around

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK) AND BABY KIERAN**

**What goes around….**

"We'll do it all  
Everything On our own  
We don't need  
Anything or anyone  
If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world  
I don't quite know  
How to say  
How I feel  
Those three words, are said too much  
They're not enough  
If I lay hereI  
f I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"  
-Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

**A/N: I am dealing with some unpleasant things at home right now in the form of family. So my updates may be a little slower. I hope everyone can understand and hang in there! Thanks for your support, BEG75**

* * *

Speed felt like a new man. Or at least the start of one.

He'd stood under the steaming, pounding water of the shower for what seemed like hours on end. His palms flat on the tiles of the back splash, his eyes closed and his mind plagued by his thoughts and thousands of regrets. It may have washed his body clean, but it did little to cleanse his tortured soul. He'd done whatever was remotely possible to try and shake some sense into her. Without resorting to physically shaking if into her, of course. His brain replayed the final moments and words over and over again. He'd plotted ways to just get her to take him back. To make her see that they could weather whatever storm together.

And as he towelled off and than shaved his weary face with a disposable razor he'd found under the bathroom sink, he had come to the conclusion that he had been doing it all wrong. He'd been a coward. He'd been hoping that things could be patched up the easy way with little or no effort. He was relatively a novice when it came to serious, long term commitments. Every other woman he'd been with, when they wanted out, he simply agreed and all but helped pack their bags and escorted them to the door. It hadn't broken his heart to watch them walk out of his life.

He'd realized, as he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, that he'd never lost anything that mattered to him. Until now. And she was too precious to him to let her simply brush him off and push him away. She'd done nothing wrong. She'd acted with the best of intentions. Hoping to protect herself and him. She hadn't betrayed him or lied to him. And she deserved far more than flowers and messages left on her voice mail. She deserved a face to face. So she could look into his eyes and realize he was sincere. That it would kill him to loose her.

He'd put on a change of clothes Sam had dropped outside of the steamy bathroom for him. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt that were freshly laundered. He'd left them behind after his last stay at the apartment. Then he'd gone out to where Samantha Ross rested on the couch. Her legs stretched out and her aching, swollen ankles propped on a pillow on the coffee table as she read a wrinkled copy of People magazine and occasionally glanced up at the television to catch the headlines on CNN.

He wanted to hang around until Carmen got him. Sam was all for it. She was glad he was taking the initiative to fix things. To show that he was the bigger man. Speed had asked if there was anything he could do around the apartment. Take the load off of her a bit.

Which was how he ended up in Carmen's bedroom, sitting in the middle of the floor, parts to a baby stroller scattered around him and his brow furrowed in both concentration and annoyance as he studied the instructions in his hands. When Sam had asked him to do it, so that Flack would have less on his plate with all the studying and other chores he had to do, Speed had gladly accepted the task.

He was quickly starting to regret it.

"How goes the battle?" Sam asked as she appeared in the doorway. One hand on the small of her back, the other on her stomach.

She was just over seven months yet looked close to nine much to her disgust. Speed noticed how tired and pale she looked. And hoped that the next two months would just hurry the hell up for her sake.

"It goes," he answered her question. "Thought I told you to just keep yourself parked on the couch."

"You did," she said with a loud yawn. "But I get bored quick and I wanted to see how you were making out."

"It's a slow process," he told her. "You know, you'd think that with all my education, putting a baby stroller together would be a piece of cake."

"Don opened the box and that was it for him. He said that there's instructions in almost every language. Except for English."

"The diagrams aren't much better," Speed said with a sigh.

"You don't have to do it, Tim. Don will get to it eventually."

"Hey, perseverance is my middle name. I'd said I'd do it. Once I figure out what goes where, it will be smooth sailing."

"Okay…" Sam said. "You need anything, just give me a shout. I'm just going to do a few light chores…"

"No chores. You need to just go and sit down and take it easy. Flack's right. You are a stubborn little thing."

She grinned. "I'm sure 'thing' was not the word my loving soon to be husband used. And I said light chores. Just some dusting and stuff. Nothing major. Just something to get me at least a tiny bit active."

"Alright," Speed said. "But if I come out there and you're lifting anything or climbing on chairs…"

"You'll kick my ass," she finished, turning to head back down the hall. "I know…I know."

"Getting closer now, Sam!" he called after her. "You need to take it easy being this close. You don't want anything happening. We're just worried about you and the baby."

"I know," came her response. "And thank you…I appreciate it. Both your concern and you putting that stupid thing together."

"No problem!" he assured her.

Speed sighed and looked down at the various parts at his disposal.

This is exactly why it's so much easier to have a pet, he thought.

* * *

She had a desire to clean. No, more a compulsion than a desire. She had just been sitting there on the couch, totally relaxed and dozing off for a nap, when her brain suddenly decided to switch itself back on and her eyes snapped open and she began looking around the apartment and making a list of things that she needed to do. Desperately. She wanted the place absolutely sparkling and spotless for when the baby arrived. She wanted closets cleaned out and useless crap tossed in the garbage. She wanted everything pulled out of the fridge and the inside scrubbed from top to bottom. She needed the kitchen cupboards emptied, cleaned out, and than re-organized so everything was neat and tidy. Bathrooms had to be scoured and new sheets and pillowcases but on the bed.

It was a totally ridiculous way to think and feel and she knew it. Since she'd been on modified hours, she'd been able to keep up on the house work. Taking chores a little at a time so she didn't get winded and exhausted. There wasn't a dusty area in the entire house and she'd swept and moped the floors just two days. The smell of Pine-Sol still lingered in the air. She'd also organized the linen closet. Arranging the towels according to size and colour and frequency of use.

A week ago, she'd taken a pail of soapy water and cleaned down the entire crib. Mattress and all. All because she felt, after it had been put together, it had been sitting out in the open to long and getting too dirty. And three nights before, Carmen had woken at one in the morning to Sam with a flashlight in her hand as she hung up baby clothes in the closet and set things in the dresser drawers. All because she wanted to, and needed to be, a hundred percent prepared.

The nesting phase. She'd read all about it in the latest chapter of What to Expect When You're Expecting. Described as an 'uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world'. That all females in the animal kingdom were even equipped with the same need. A primal instinct. Sam wasn't too concerned with descriptions or definitions. What concerned her was that the behaviour felt almost manic to her. She couldn't stop herself no matter how hard she tried to talk herself out of it. She felt irrational and out of control despite both Flack, and the doctor, telling her that she was completely normal for feeling the ways she did.

And she was a little frightened that this nesting deal was sometimes a sign of the onset of labour. Something she was just not prepared for. Despite her daily curses about how uncomfortable she was and how she just couldn't wait for the whole ordeal was over with, the truth of the matter was that she was dreading the moment it was time for Kieran to be born. She was terrified of the pain. And of something going horribly wrong.

For now she attempted those kinds of thoughts at bay by concentrating on keeping herself occupied. She started by stripping down the bed and putting on all fresh sheets and pillowcases despite the fact she'd gone through the same ritual just the day before. She got into the shower with a bucket of water and bleach and scrubbed the grout with an old toothbrush. It was a big undertaking. Something she wouldn't get done in just one day. So she made a plan to tackle a side of the shower each day.

Her last spot on that afternoon's to do list was the kitchen. She dumped her old bucket and re-filled it with warm water and disinfecting Lysol. Grabbing the dish cloth, she sat that and the bucket on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, she went into the hall closet where Flack stored the tool box and removed the screwdriver with the interchangeable tips, than journeyed back into the kitchen and carefully lowered herself into a kneeling position. Using the screwdriver to carefully and painstakingly remove the metal knobs on the front of the first cupboard before dropping the object into the water.

Halfway through the removal of all of the handles, she heard faint voices coming from the apartment building hallway, followed by the sound of people stomping snow off of their boots and than jingle keys in the front door. She had wanted to have her chores down before Carmen and Flack arrived home. They had parenting classes that evening and she didn't feel like sticking around while Tim had it out with her best friend.

"What the hell are you doing?" Flack asked calmly as he appeared in the doorway and found his pregnant soon to be wife on her knees using a screwdriver to remove the cupboard door handles.

"Hi!" she cheerfully greeted. "You're home early. I thought you were just going to pick me up after your shift and we were going straight on to the classes."

"I managed to finish things up. Sam, what are you doing?"

"Cleaning," she replied simply.

"You're taking the handles off the cupboards," he stated.

"To disinfect them."

His eyebrows arched. "Okay…why?"

"Because everything needs to be cleaned and disinfected thoroughly before the baby comes. You don't want him coming home from the pristine hospital to a place infected with millions of germs, do you?"

"No…but the knobs from the kitchen cupboards? Are you kidding me? When's he going to come in contact with them?"

She sighed exasperatedly. "He's not going to directly. But we're going to touch them and than prepare him a bottle or change his diaper. So the germs will pass from us to him and than he'll be sick and back in the hospital before we know it. Trust me, Donnie…" she pointed the screwdriver at him. "…this is for the baby."

"This is getting a little ridiculous now, Samantha," he informed her.

"What's going on?" Carmen asked, squeezing between Flack and the door frame to get into the kitchen. She frowned at the sight before her. "Sam…what are you doing in the middle of the floor."

"Apparently she's cleaning," Flack told the CSI. "It's an absolute necessary to disinfect every square inch of the kitchen."

"I even scrubbed the grout in the shower with water and bleach. Using a toothbrush. We'll have to stop somewhere on our way home and get you a new one, by the way."

Christ, he thought, giving a small, dry laugh and shaking his head slowly. "Something is seriously wrong with you, woman."

"It's perfectly normal," she declared. "I have to have this place spotless and perfect before the baby comes and…"

He crossed the kitchen and snatched the screwdriver out of her hand. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand.

She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted dramatically.

"Don't make me pick you up," he warned. "There's no need for you to be doing stuff like this. What's wrong with you? Not only is it just plain weird, but you might be breathing in something toxic."

"I checked the baby book," she said, reaching into the bucket of water and cleanser to scrub the objects inside. "It's perfectly safe for me and the baby. I'm not using anything dangerous."

"Well I'd feel better if you just knocked it the hell off," Flack told her. "You're starting to creep me out a bit with the OCD thing you have going on."

"Fine," she huffed, wiping her hands on the thighs of her tattered sweat pants and than curling her fingers around his and allowing him to help her up onto her feet. "But I'm going to have to finish the rest of the cupboards and clean all the handles and put them back on."

"Later," Flack said. "Like never."

"Don't worry, Sam," Carmen picked up the small pail and sat it in the sink. "I'll finish it off for you if it's that important to you."

Of course, Carmen had no intention on actually doing what she'd suggested. There was no way in hell she was taking apart cupboards and sterilizing and disinfecting decades old handles. Her only plan was to put the knobs back on that Sam had already removed and cleaned and than telling her best friend that she'd done the job. It was easier to just lie to her to make her happy than it was to argue with her and tell her she was nuts. Although that's what she exactly was. Pure nuts.

"You will?" Sam's eyes brightened with joy.

Carmen nodded. "You just leave all the cleaning to Flack and I and we'll have this place sparkling by the time the baby arrives. Okay? You just concentrate on taking care of yourself and Kieran."

"Hey, Sam!" Speed called out as he entered the kitchen from the opposite entrance. "I put both the stroller and the bassinette together. Is there anything else that…"

His voice trailed off as he saw Carmen standing across the room from him. Soulful dark eyes met sad green ones. His heart caught in his throat and his stomach constricted. He had been mentally preparing himself for the moment he saw her. For the confrontation that he knew would ensue. But seeing her there, looking tired and worn, the only thing he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and never let go.

* * *

Both Sam and Flack looked at Speed, than back at Carmen. Tension hung thick in the air.

"Sam, I was thinking that we should go out and grab some dinner before the parenting class," Flack said, laying a hand on the small of his pregnant fiancee's back and gently steering her towards the door. "So why don't we go and get changed and than take off?"

"I think that's a good idea," she answered. "Chinese food?" she looked up at him in anticipation.

"Whatever you want," he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before escorting her from the kitchen and closing the shutter style doors that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Giving Carmen and Speed some hint of privacy.

"Maybe McDonalds," Sam was saying as she headed through the living room and down the hall towards the bedroom.

"Maybe not," came Flack's response. "Normal food, babe. You need to eat more normal food. Or that kid is going to come out with shockingly high cholesterol."

"But I wanted to dip French fries in the chocolate sundae sauce again," she argued.

"You're disturbing, you know that?" Flack asked. The bedroom door clicking closed behind him.

Carmen couldn't help but laugh. It amazed her that Samantha had so many different sides to her personality. She could go from butch cop to giggly school girl in a matter of seconds. From girl next door in flannel pyjamas and her hair in pigtails to raging sex kitten in thigh high hooker boots and a mini, capable of seducing her man in a public bathroom.

"She's something else," Speed commented with a slight chuckle, shaking his head.

"She's a whole ball of crazy," Carmen said jokingly. "But I'm sure she's said that about me a few times lately."

Speed just nodded. They stood, each at an end of the kitchen, watching and waiting for the other to make a move or at the very least, say something.

"So I was thinking…" he began.

"How have you….?" Carmen said at the same time.

They both laughed.

"You first," Speed told her.

"I was just going to ask you how you've been. You haven't been at work in a while."

He shrugged. "I've been…coping. Barely most days. You?"

She sighed. "Pretty much the same. I got all your messages. And the beautiful flowers. I just wasn't ready to pick up the phone and call you. I wasn't ready to face all of that yet."

"Are you ready to face it now?" he asked curiously.

She nodded, her eyes downcast as her hands nervously fidgeted with one of the buttons on her cream coloured blouse. "I really miss you, Tim," her voice was nearly a whisper. "I miss you and I never should have said the things I did or acted the way I did. And I regret them and I just want things to go back to normal. I only did all of that because I was scared."

"I understand," he said. The dark, tight hold on his heart lifting ever so slightly.

"I never should have treated you the way that I did. I'm just not use to someone wanting to protect me and solve my problems and I just lashed out because I was afraid of what Mathew was capable of and of how strong the feelings are between me and you and I couldn't…"

He crossed the kitchen and grabbed her by the tops of her arms and silenced her with a crushing kiss. When he met no resistance, he trailed his hands down her arms, his fingertips softly skimming over the tops of her hands and her fingers before settling his hands on her hips and yanking her into him.

Carmen moaned into his mouth and curled her arms around his neck. Losing herself in the taste of his lips and the feel of his body pressed up against hers and the warmth and security he provided her with.

He broke away from her and pressed kisses along her jaw line and up to her ear. "Trust in me, Carmen," he whispered. "Trust in us."

She tightened her grip on him and closed her eyes.

"No matter what happens with this whole Mathew thing, I'll be here, Red. Thick and thin, remember? We can get through anything."

She didn't have the heart to tell him about the parole board dealing them a major blow by not allowing Sam's report to be submitted. Mac had broke the news to her. And when she had sat back and thought about it, it was amazing that Mac had shown such blatant disregard for the 'system'. That he'd taken such a big gamble by not disclosing the various personal relationships intertwining the key players in preventing Mathew's release. On the other hand, she understood how badly Mac wanted to 'get him', and that he truly thought he was doing the right thing. Mac Taylor didn't do things to purposefully hurt those closest to him. He held everyone's safety and happiness in high regard. Which made him even more highly respected and invaluable to all of his employees.

"You trust me, don't you, Carmen?" Speed asked, his lips against her ear, his one hand now stroking her hair.

She nodded. "I trust you, Tim," she responded.

"Than just hold onto me and never let go," he told her.

She clung to him with all of the strength in her body.

"I never will," she vowed. "I'll never let you go."

* * *

Flack felt guilty. Immensely guilty. It had been nearly six hours since Mac had dropped the bomb on him that Samantha's report had been eighty-sixed from Mathew's parole hearing. And he'd yet to break the news to the person, aside from Carmen, that it would matter most to.

The person who wrote it. Who was now studying the lifelike doll in the middle of the table in front of them with dread in her eyes. An hour ago, they'd been having a quiet, somewhat romantic dinner at a table for two at her favourite Thai restaurant. Complete with soft music and candles on the table and loving glances shared across the table and light, easy conversation.

Now they were learning how to change, bathe and clothe a newborn. Something that was relatively alien to them both. Although Flack had a niece and nephew, he'd never actually been around them long enough as babies to care about learning how to change a dirty ass or put fresh clothes on them or drop them in the tub. So far, he had handled the whole bathing thing. It had come easy to him. Sam commented that it was his long arms. He was able to easily place a baby along one forearm and soap them down and rinse them off with his free hand. She'd tried it and dropped the damn doll twice.

"Do you get this?" Sam asked, holding a loft an impossibly tiny Pampers diaper. "I don't get this. Doesn't it come with instructions? Explain this to me. Do you get this?"

"It's a diaper," Flack responded. "I don't think the package comes with detailed step by step instructions."

"I know what it is," she said, turning the diaper over in her hands. "But do you get it? 'Cause I don't."

"This isn't rocket science, Sam," Flack said, and took the diaper from her. "Look…it's really not that hard."

He spread the diaper out on the table and took the swaddled doll and unwrapped it and than placed the 'baby' on the disposable diaper. She watched, in sheer amazement, as he brought the front of the nappy between the doll's legs and than stretched out the sticky tabs at the back and brought them to the front and securely fastened them.

"See," Flack held the 'baby' up by the back of the neck. "Piece of cake."

"Boy," Sam said, nodding appreciatively. "Did I luck out or what? Guess I picked the right bachelor to get knocked up by. Although, I do hope you won't be picking Kieran up by the scruff of his neck like that."

"Only when he's really mouthy and disobedient. Like he cries all night and I can't get my beauty sleep," Flack said jokingly. "Here," he grabbed the doll around the torso and tossed it at her football style. "Put some clothes on this kid."

Sam's attempt at intercepting the pass was miserable to say the least, and the 'baby' fell to the floor with a loud clatter. All eyes in the room were suddenly on them. People staring in absolutely horror as Sam stood there, blushing furiously, the doll, minus one arm, sitting at her feet. No one seemed more shocked and disgusted than the leader of the small group of couples. Julia Traynor was pushing sixty and had been teaching parenting classes for close to forty years. Sam guessed, after spending so much time 'teaching' her and Flack, Julia was ready to retire. And that she would probably, after witnessing their antics, go home after class and get really, really, really drunk.

"Ooops," Sam said and gave a small, embarrassed giggle.

"Way to go," Flack journeyed around the table and scooped up the baby. And found the missing arm under the table and snapped it back in place. "Nice job, babe. They'll be calling Child Protective Services on us before Kieran's even born."

"I didn't mean to," Sam told the class. "My reflexes aren't that great and when he chucked it at me…"

A collective gasp went up among the expecting woman. Most of the husbands snickered.

Julia closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. "Jesus Mary and Joseph," she breathed.

"It's okay, people," Flack spoke to the class in that authoritative way he had on the job. "I can assure all of you that we won't toss our real baby around the house or drop him on the floor and snap his arms or legs or head off. Well, I know I won't. I can't say the same for her."

"Donnie!" Sam shot him a scolding look and yanked the doll out of his hands. Setting it back down on the table and grabbing the one piece sleeper that rested nearby.

"Nothing more to see, folks," Flack said dismissively. "Show's over."

Julia had gathered herself well enough to continue her tour of the tables to make sure that all of the couples were doing things right. Both Sam and Flack noticed that she avoided their work station like the plague.

"We'll never be allowed back here," Sam declared, stuffing the 'baby's' arms into the sleeper.

Flack shrugged. "It's the second last class. Who cares? Next week is the car seat clinic. I'm pretty sure we can teach ourselves how to put a car seat base in the car properly and how to buckle the baby in using one of the many stuffed animals people have given us. And we won't be coming back if we have another kid. Will we? I mean, what's the point of coming back if we're masters after the first one?"

"Something tells me we'll need two or three tries to master anything," Sam said with an exasperatedly sigh as she couldn't quite seem to figure out the closures on the nightie.

"You, maybe," Flack said, grabbing the doll by the ankle and pulling it towards him and spinning it around the face him. "Me? I am a complete natural."

Sam snorted. Truth of the matter was, he did seem to quickly pick up everything that they had been taught since the start of the classes. He seemed to have no problem with the daily care of a child or the breathing techniques shown to them in the Lamaze portion of the course. And he was right on top of knowing different pain relieving techniques because of her inability to have an epidural and he'd been a willing and active participant in the 'dry run' of labour in the birthing tub. He still didn't agree a hundred percent with his child being born underwater, but if Sam felt comfortable with it, than he did too.

"You're pretty good at this," she commented, sinking down into the chair behind her. She stretched out her legs and laid a hand on her stomach.

She watched as her soon to be husband expertly dressed the lifelike doll. Amazed at how such a big man with such powerful, large hands could make something so small and intricate look so damn easy. She was in awe at those hands. Besieged by thoughts of what those hands could do.

She felt herself blush once again and she fanned herself with her hand and looked away. Now was not the time to be having a wet daydream.

"There," Flack said, finishing with the last snap and than holding the doll along his forearm. "What'cha think? Am I a damn pro or what?"

"I have to admit I am in sheer awe of your abilities," Sam told him.

"You should be. It's my abilities that got us here. And you were not complaining at the time."

"Do you always have to be such a perv?" she asked.

"You actually have to ask me that?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Hold your kid," Flack said, dropping the doll in her lap as he pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. "You know we're going to do just fine, right? With this parenting stuff?"

"You will," Sam responded, holding the baby to her chest, one hand under it's bum, the other on the back of her head as she commenced rocking back and forth in her seat. "I feel so goddamn stupid rocking a doll," she complained.

"Just humour ice lady over there and it will all be over soon," he said, laying a hand on the back of her neck. And although it wasn't a real infant she was cuddling so lovingly and protectively, he couldn't help but think how beautiful the sight of her being a mother was.

"So I've got some news," he said, picking a time of utter relaxation on Sam's part to drop the bomb on her.

"About?" she asked.

"Mathew's parole hearing."

"Good news or bad?"

"Well…let's just say it's not fantastic."

"Is he dead? Please tell me someone shivved him in the showers and it's one less piece of shit on earth."

"That would be excellent news. This is shitty, what the fuck kind of news."

She sighed.

"The parole board voted that your report is inadmissible."

There, he said it. And now he waited for an explosion of profanity or a freak out.

Instead, she remained calm, cool, and collected. Barely batting an eyelash. "When did you find this out?" she asked.

"This afternoon. That's why Mac called me and asked me to come to see him. To tell me about it."

She nodded slowly. "Let me take a wild stab at their reasoning's. The defence went to them with the argument that I was too closely connected to not only Carmen, but to cases involving domestic abuse because of my prior history with Zack."

Flack didn't respond.

"And they probably played the conflict of interest card. Carmen and I are colleagues. Best friends. We live together. You were the arresting officer that night and you and I are engaged and expecting a baby."

"You're good," Flack declared and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You don't seem too surprised."

"Disappointed," she said. "But not surprised. It was a brilliant move on the defence's part if you ask me. Mac didn't tell them that we were all involved in some way?"

Flack shook his head.

"Now that's what surprises me," Sam said. "That he didn't 'fess up right away. Mac knows the ins and outs of the law. He knows the system like the back of his hand. And for him not to see this coming.."

"He took a chance," Flack told her. "He says he took a huge gamble and lost. That that's how bad he wanted to keep Stobbard locked up. That he'd take his chances."

"One thing you can about Mac. He's damn tenacious. And gutsy. Did you freak on him?"

"A little," Flack admitted. "I was pissed that he talked me into letting you go into a maximum security prison and put up with all that shit. And for what? To have all your hard work tossed out?"

"Shit happens," she reasoned. "On a daily basis unfortunately. So what now? Will you still be allowed to testify?"

Flack sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, Samantha. I honest to God don't know."

"He'll be out on the street if you don't," she said.

He nodded. Mathew Stobbard on the street was something he didn't want to see.

The frightening thing was that he didn't think there was anything he could do to stop it from becoming reality.

"It'll all work out, Donnie," Sam assured him, laying a hand over his and smiling softly at him.

He managed a smile of his own and leaned sideways to press a tender kiss to her lips.

He prayed to God she was right.

* * *

Flack's eyes snapped open as the shrill ringing of his cell phone cut through the peaceful silence that enveloped the apartment. He orientated himself. Waking up out of a dead sleep was something that was neither comfortable or welcome. Especially when you weren't on call. Samantha slept soundly alongside of him. Her back tucked into his side, a pillow between her legs to assist in alleviating some of the uncomfortableness she was experience now that she was farther along in the pregnancy.

She stirred slightly at the intrusion of noise. Mumbling incoherently and nestling her face into her pillow. Than commencing a full out conversation in her sleep. It was nothing new. In fact, it was near nightly that she woke him up talking away about nonsense crap. Most nights he ignored her and rolled over and went back to sleep. Others it was so loud and so insistent that he had to wake her up to get her to stop.

He checked the illuminated numbers on the clock radio on the nightstand. 2:23. Christ.

They'd had arrived home shortly after ten to find that Carmen had taken off with Speed. She'd left a hastily written note explaining her whereabouts in case they got worried and how she and Speed had kissed and made up. Thankfully, she'd also taken the time and effort to put the knobs back on the front of the kitchen cupboards and added a quick PS to her letter, that she disinfected every square inch of the room.

Flack knew she was full of shit. But he didn't have the heart to say that out loud when Sam got that satisfied, happier than a pig in shit smile on her face and announced that she was happy someone was taking things seriously around there.

They were in bed before the news even hit the airways. They made love -leisurely and tenderly. It was getting uncomfortable and near painful for her, and the minute it became unbearable, was the minute everything was put on hiatus until that baby had arrived and Sam felt recuperated enough to have any interest in sex whatsoever. Flack wasn't going to force her to do anything just to get his rocks off. Worse came to worse, he'd do it himself. Any guy who said they didn't was a damn liar. It was her he felt sorry for. The doctor had announced in the last visit that it was best, because Sam had shown how unpredictable this pregnancy was, after the seventh month to avoid orgasm all together because the contractions of the uterus could bring on early labour. He'd seen the look of sheer doom that had passed over Sam's face. And knew that she would never, ever be able to survive being cut off.

They'd fallen asleep sated and exhausted. Flack had been having the best sleep he'd had in a hell of a long time.

And now the phone….

Groaning his displeasure, Flack rolled over onto his side and slapped his hand down on the cell phone resting on the nightstand and scooped up the offending object. He didn't even bother to check the caller ID. Whoever it was disrupting his peace and harmony was going to get ripped into until they bled from the sheer force of his words. He yawned noisily and pressed talk.

"Flack," he answered.

"Don!" Mac's voice, shouting to be heard over the boisterous noise and yelling in the background.

"What's going on, Mac? Why…?"

"I need you to come up to Sing-Sing right away. There's been an incident with Stobbard."

Flack would have sworn he heard a mixture of shock, surprise, and immense pleasure in the older man's voice. That, or as a result of being woken up so rudely and suddenly, he was just imaging he'd heard all of that.

"Is he dead?" Flack asked.

"No. But…"

"I'm not even on call, Mac. Why are you calling me to work your scene? And why didn't dispatch call me if they're short on staff and need me to fill in somewhere?"

"I don't need you to work. Angell is in complete control. I just need you to come up here."

"Mac, for Christ sakes. It's three in the morning. And Carmen isn't here and I'm not to keen on leaving Sam alone. She's only seven and a bit months, but she's at this point where the doctor said things could happen when we least expect it."

"I wouldn't be calling you Don if I didn't think you'd want to see this for yourself."

"Mac, seriously. You're not making any sense. You woke me up out of a dead sleep and…"

"Mathew Stobbard killed someone," Mac broke in.

"He what?" Flack asked, sitting up and rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"It happened about three hours ago. He was taken to the showers by two guards. There was one other prisoner in the shower room at the time being watched over by his own guards at the time. The guards were waiting outside in the locker room area and they heard a commotion. Came rushing in to find a bloody mess and Stobbard over top of this inmate with his hands around his throat. And that's after he slammed the man's head into the wall and against the floor a dozen or so times."

"So the guy was most likely dead or almost when he started strangling him," Flack concluded. "Whose the lucky recipient? If you say Dean Truby I'm most likely to throw a party right here and now."

"Sorry," Mac said apologetically. "But you really need to come here and see this for yourself."

Flack sighed. "It's going to take me a while," he said.

"Take your time. We just got called here ourselves."

"For something that happened three hours ago?" Flack asked with a frown.

"I guess the prison wanted to get all their ducks in a row before we showed up," Mac replied. "Probably trying to hide anything that will place blame on the guards. Heads will roll for letting something like this happen and they know it."

"Guys should get a medal. It's one scum bag dead and another staying where he belongs."

"It's the way the system works, Flack. Unfortunately society doesn't hand out awards for contributing to ending to someone's life even if they are the dregs of society. But you really need to get here to see this. I'll hold off on calling the ME until you get here."

"Alright," Flack said. "Be there as soon as I can."

"That's fine," Mac told him and hung up.

Flack sighed and pressed end on his cell phone and tossed it with a clatter onto the nightstand. He lay in the dark, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. Taking just a few minutes to gather his senses before just springing out of bed and getting to it. Truth of the matter was, after the mess Mac had made of things earlier in the day, all Flack had really wanted to do was tell the guy to shove it up his ass and than hang up.

Flack's hand drifted down the network of scars on the left side of his chest and lower on his abdomen. There were days the scars still seemed to itch as if they were healing. The doctor called it phantom sensations. Said it was all in his head. And it could possibly be that way for the rest of his life.

It was a bitch owing your life to someone. You pay and pay and pay. Mac Taylor never asked for any glory or gratitude for what he did that day in that bombed out office building. But Flack could not shake the feeling that he needed to do something or say something to show Mac how grateful he was that the older man have saved his life. And seeing as Flack wasn't one for a lot of words, especially to another guy, showing Mac was an easier option.

Even if it did mean dragging his ass out of bed at three in the morning and finding his way to a maximum security prison to deal with more death.

Sam mumbled noisily in her sleep. The last few nights she'd been having dreams that had her alternating between laughing hysterically and than sobbing uncontrollably. Both actions had been enough to startle him out of slumber and he'd shaken her awake and assured her that it was just a dream. That she was safe and nothing was going to happen to her. And she'd clung to him and cried. Something she rarely did in front of him. And before he could ask what she had been dreaming about, she had drifted off to sleep.

Tonight she was talking. And as he lay there and listened to her, it became apparent that she was either having a really bizarre dream or she was planning a grocery list.

"Ketchup," she muttered. "Bread…milk…kitty litter."

He couldn't help but snicker a little. "Samantha," he rolled over onto his side and ran a hand over her hair and kissed her shoulder. "You're talking in your sleep."

She repeated the items. Than giggled after saying kitty litter.

"We don't have a cat," he told her.

"Yes…yes…we do…it's under the bed…"

He smirked and propped himself up on his elbow and pushed her hair away from her face. She was still fast asleep.

"The cat's under the bed," she continued. "Adam, too."

"Adam's under the bed?"

She nodded. "He's under the bed. We have to hide under the bed. He's mad again. Daddy's mad."

"Shhh…" he kissed her cheek. "It's okay…you're just having a dream."

She sighed heavily. Rubbed her face against the pillow. "Okay," she said with a slight whimper. "I'll be good…I promise I'll be good…"

"Samantha…" Flack spoke loudly this time and shook her awake. "Samantha…wake up."

Her eyes snapped open and she rolled onto her back. Looking at him with utter confusion and a little fright in her eyes.

"You were dreaming," he told her. "About your father?"

She shook her head. "I don't know," she responded.

He knew she was lying. She was good at hiding things like that from him. Good at putting on this front that she was happy and everything was right in her world. All he had to do was look at her and see the darkness that lingered in her eyes to realize that she was far from truly happy.

"What time is it?" she asked, diverting the subject.

"Just before three. I have to go out for a little bit. Mac needs me. You'll be okay alone?"

She nodded.

"I shouldn't be very long. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, and he kissed her softly. "What does Mac want?" she asked, as he slipped out of bed.

"There's just a scene he needs some extra help at," Flack replied, snagging the jeans he'd worn to the parenting class and slipping into them. He snapped close the button and pulled up the zipper. "Nothing major."

"I thought you weren't on call," she said with a loud yawn.

"I'm not. I guess this is kinda a favour to him."

"Oh," she said, settling back down on her side.

He grabbed a t-shirt from the dresser and yanked it on over his head. Slipped into a sweatshirt and a pair of socks before taking his badge and gun holster from the top drawer and clipping down to the waist of his jeans.

"I'll call you if I'm going to be longer than I thought," he told her, going to her side of the bed and leaning down to kiss her and her stomach.

"Be careful," she said, laying a hand on the side of his face and kissing him long and soft in return.

"Get some sleep," he instructed, running a gentle hand over the side of her face before pecking her forehead and heading for the door.

She was already out before he could get out into the hall.

* * *

The body was lying naked, face down in a pool of blood and water in the middle of the shower room. More blood was along the tiles just below one of the shower nozzles. Bright red streaks that travelled down the white ceramics.

The flow of water had been turned off and the room was steamy and smelled as foul as the high school locker room Flack still had memories of from his much younger, athletic years.

Hawkes was photographing the body when Flack stepped into the room. The two men exchanged nods in greeted as Danny, armed with his own camera, clicked off a roll of film on the surrounding scene.

"Thought you were off tonight," Danny said when he saw his best friend.

"I was," Flack replied. "Mac called. Said there was something I needed to see. What's going on? This is Stobbard's doing?"

Hawkes nodded. "Guards caught him red handed. Had to tazer him to stop him from defiling the body."

"Defiling?" Flack frowned. "In what way?"

Hawkes pushed some of the DB's brown hair away from the side of his head to reveal a missing left ear.

"What the hell…" Flack said. "Where's the missing piece?"

"He ripped it off with his teeth," Hawkes responded. "And was trying to eat it when the guards managed to get a hold on the situation."

"Never thought he'd graduate to cannibilism," Flack said with a grimace. "Something must have made him snap."

"He says the victim made a sexual advance on him," Mac said, as he joined the other men.

"Can't stand anything up his poop shoot, huh?" Danny chuckled. "You think he'd be well versed in those things after being locked up for so long."

"I'm not fond of the idea either but that doesn't mean I'm going to kill someone over it," Flack said. "So, Mac? I'm here. You wanted to show me something. What is it? All I see is a run of the mill DB with a missing ear."

"It's not missing," Hawkes spoke up. "Danny has three quarters of it on ice in his kit."

"I wanted to show you the vic," Mac told the detective.

"I see him," Flack said. "What's so different about him and other vics? I know him personally or something?"

Mac gave a small smirk that unnerved Flack. The crime lab boss than crouched down over the body, and snapping on a pair of latex gloves he proceeded to roll the corpse over onto his back.

Hawkes stepped back, a wide, almost ecstatic grin on his usually serious face.

Flack looked down. And found himself staring down at the gaping mouth and wide, horrified and unblinking eyes of a very familiar face.

Shane Casey.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Even the lurkers! Just please drop a line if you like this folks! Thanks!**

**Great big thanks to my reviewers of my last chapter:**

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****Forest Angel**


	95. Anticipation versus Preparation

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK. TWO DAYS THEIR TIME FOLKS!) AND BABY KIERAN**

**Anticipation versus preparation**

"I'll fix these broken things  
Repair your broken wings  
And make sure everything's alright  
My pressure on your hips  
Sinking my fingertips  
Into every inch of you  
Cause I know that's what you want me to do."  
-This Love, Maroon 5

* * *

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since Flack had received that dead of the night call and drove nearly forty five minutes to Sing-Sing only to find Shane Casey lying face down in a slick pool of water and his own blood. Two weeks since Mathew Stobbard had bludgeoned the younger, much smaller man to death simply by smashing Casey's face and forehead off of the ceramic tiling in the inmates shower room. Multiple times, in face. So multiple that Sid had said, upon the peeling back the dead man's face, the front of the skull looked like a road map of fractures. And that both orbital bones and the nose had been smashed into oblivion. Two weeks since Stobbard had gone from seeking parole to defiling and attempting to cannibalize his newest victim. All because Shane Casey had made a sexual advance on him.

Flack still couldn't get over the degree of rage Stobbard had showcased in what he'd done to Shane Casey. Sure, Casey the t-shirt killer was no damn saint. Decapitating a frat girl and hanging her by her ankles from a ceiling fan and driving railroad spikes through another vic's eyes was as disturbed and twisted as they came. Add in the fact that he was doing it all as a form of revenge for the deceased brother Shane believed had been wrongly persecuted and you had one hell of a certified wack job. He had believed in his brother. So strongly and passionately that he'd killed for him. And for what? To find out the bro was as guilty as all shit and you went to all that trouble and became psychopathic serial killer for no reason.

It was almost poetic justice in a way. Casey had been of the crime lab's greatest and most elusive villains. Flack had found him a whiny little bitch truth be told. Sitting in the back of the squad car going on about his brother being innocent and 'those people getting what they deserved'. He hadn't felt a damn thing for Shane Casey save for disgust and contempt. He most certainly hadn't felt sorry for him or his equally as guilty brother. And it had made Flack sick to listen to Danny Messer almost sympathize with the kid. Talking about knowing what it was like to go to bat for your brother.

Only thing Flack had wanted to do was take that proverbial bat and kick the shit out of Shane Casey with it.

Now he'd gotten what had been coming for a while. He was dead and most likely in hell. It certainly wasn't a lonely place and Flack was sure Casey had lots of company and he was probably right up there at the head table with Lucifer and Saddam and Jeffrey Dahmer and some of the other cretins that had unfortunately walked God's green earth for way too many years. Shane Casey had, in the end, paid the price for his crimes. And, unbeknownst to him, his death was assisting in keeping someone as nearly twisted and perverse as him in jail for a long, long, long time.

* * *

What goes around, comes around, Flack now thought, as he stood in the middle of the empty spare bedroom in a ratty, paint spattered pair of sweats and sweaty t-shirt and a backwards Mets cap on his head. A plastic tray full of white paint and a brush resting on the edge at his feet and a paint soaked sponge in his hand. Taking a break to admire his handy work. Carmen had moved out shortly after the Stobbard/Casey incident and was now playing house over at Speed's. Giving Flack free reign on what was slowly becoming a nursery.

Three days ago, he'd spent his entire Sunday off - the first Sunday in God knows how long- painting the entire room sky blue. The next day, he'd come home on an extended lunch break and put up the crown moulding. This current evening, he had finished painting the closet doors and window and door frames white. Now, in what he had considered a stroke of genius on his part, he had procured a kitchen sponge to assist in painting fluffy white clouds on the blue walls.

And it looked damn good. Modestly speaking.

A horrific noise equivalent to the sound of a cat having it's tail stepped on erupted from behind him. Jarring Flack out of his fond memories of Shane Casey and mentally patting himself on the back for what he considered something akin to painting the Mona Lisa or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. A noise so shrill and bone chilling Flack felt the hair on the back of his neck and on his arms stand on end.

"_Promiscuous girl, wherever _you_ are, I'm all alone, and it's you that I want. Promiscuous boy, you already know, that I'm all yours, what you waiting for?"_

Jesus Christ, Flack thought, and slowly turned to face the culprit. Perched on the top of a ladder behind him, his soon to be brother in law was singing along at the top of his lungs to the Nelly Furtado song playing on the radio perched on the nearby window ledge.

Two more days. Two more days and Flack would find himself legally attached to the Ross family. And that was a damn frightening thought.

"Adam!" he shouted over the music. "ADAM!!"

The lab tech glanced away from his task of applying glow in the dark stars and planets on the ceiling and down at the homicide detective.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Can you not sing?" Flack asked. "It's grating on my last nerve, buddy."

"Sorry," Adam responded sheepishly. "I just got caught up in all of this. Like, here I am, helping decorate a room for a nephew that wasn't even a twinkle in his mother's eye at this time last year. In two days I'm going to have a brother in law. Someone that I've been working somewhat alongside of for a couple years now and never imagined would ever meet my sister let alone marry her. It's just all so…I don't know…insane. My head is spinning just thinking about it."

"That's probably the paint fumes doing that," Sam said as she appeared in the doorway to the nursery. Two cups of coffee in her hands. Flack thought how adorable she looked in her maternity overalls and a turtleneck.

"You are a saviour!" Adam declared as he spotted the coffee and scampered down the ladder.

"I figured my slaves deserved at least something to drink," Sam said and crossed the room to set the mugs on the window ledge. Waddled was more like it. She'd developed a waddle in the last month, and it was getting more and more pronounced.

"Out!" Flack instructed her, pointing towards the door.

"I'm not allowed to hang out for a bit?" she asked, curling an arm around his waist.

"Hang out from the doorway or the hall," he told her. "Not in the room. I told you this a hundred times at least. I don't want you in the room with all of this paint. So do yourself and the baby a favour and get out."

"I am sure it's not that toxic where Kieran will develop a second head or three sets of limbs," she said.

"I don't care. I just feel better knowing that neither of you are in here with all these fumes."

"Well open the window," she said.

"Sam…humour me…get out."

"You are so damn bossy," she complained with an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his stomach softly and turning her face up with for a kiss.

"Out," he insisted, kissing her softly.

"Fine… fine…" she huffed and retreated to the doorway.

Flack stared at her.

She backed up a few steps into the hallway and gave a cherubic smile. "Good?" she asked.

He gave her a thumbs up sign and went to grab his coffee. "So?" he asked her. "What do you think? Does it measure up to your specifications?"

"How can I tell if I am standing out in the hallway?" she responded.

"Don't get cute," he said. "You were just in here."

"I think it looks be-u-tiful," she gushed and blew him a kiss. "Sinclair called," she said, rubbing her stomach in slow, smooth circles. "He wants you to come in and see him tomorrow before you start your shift."

"For what?" Flack asked.

Sam shrugged. "He didn't say. He just asked me to give you a message. Could it be about the results of your sargeant's exam?"

"Could be. But it's only been a week since I wrote it. I think the grading takes longer than that. He sound pissed off?"

"I don't know…he sounded like….Sinclair."

Flack frowned. "That helps…"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Now if you gentleman will excuse me, there's a pickle and peanut butter sandwich calling my name from the kitchen."

Flack grimaced.

Adam made a gagging noise.

"Do you hear it?" she asked. Than lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Samantha…Samantha…you know you love me and want to eat me…."

"I was just thinking about eating something myself," Flack said, and winked at her.

"Perv!" she exclaimed and turned on her heel and headed off down the hall. "You'll be lucky if you get anywhere near me until way after this baby is born. You have done enough dirty things to me to last a lifetime."

"Not nearly enough or dirty enough," he called after her.

"I am not listening!"

He smirked and sipped his coffee.

"Are you honestly sure you know what you're doing?" Adam asked, as he sat cross legged on the plastic covered floor and savoured his coffee. "Marrying her?"

"Am I sure about it? A hundred percent sure?" Flack sighed. "No," he admitted. "I'm not. I'm scared shitless about getting married. About spending the rest of my life with someone. Day in and day out. But I love your sister. That I'm a hundred percent sure about. And if I've learned anything about the last nine months that I've been with her, it's the Sam and I can get through anything as long as we count on each other."

Adam smiled. "You know," he said, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread on the frayed left ankle of his jeans. "I never thanked you."

"For what?" Flack asked, downing the last of his coffee and setting the empty cup on the window ledge.

"Couple of things really," the lab tech replied. "First, for getting me and Danny out of the warehouse that day. For storming the place when you did and putting your own ass on the line."

"I just did what I had to, Adam. I wasn't going to leave you guys in there and let God knows what happen to either of ya. And what happened was bad enough and I hate to think about would have happened had we not gone in when we did."

"We probably wouldn't have made it out of there," Adam concluded. "Well, maybe in body bags."

"If anything, you were a pretty big hero that day."

Adam looked up at his soon to be brother in law, a puzzled look on his face. "Me?"

Flack nodded and went back to his task. Dipping the sponge in the white paint and setting to work on creating another cloud. "Danny told me after how you grabbed that acid out of your kit while he distracted the perps."

Adam snorted. "I was scared," he admitted, sounding ashamed. "Terrified. I didn't even want to do it at first but Danny talked me into it. And for him to take that beating just because…I wasn't brave at all."

"You were," Flack insisted. "And we all get scared, Adam. Hell, since the bombing, I nearly jump out of my skin if I even hear a door slamming. And since I met your sister, I'm afraid every time I'm waiting to kick down a door or I'm chasing a perp. Being scared doesn't make you weak. Makes you human."

Adam didn't respond.

"And I saw first hand how strong you are. Two times, actually. First, in that warehouse that day when you came running out to tell us that who were thought were perps were actually cops. And second, the night you made sure that you got your sister to the hospital and she received the care she needed."

"I wasn't going to let anything happen to my sister," Adam said. "Or my nephew."

"Sam and Kieran are both alive and doing well because of how strong you were. You didn't panic and kept a level head. So if anyone should be thanking someone, it should be me thanking you. Because I have her and my son thanks to you."

The lab tech's face brightened. A huge smile spreading from ear to ear. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to Sammie. The way she is with you…I've never seen her like that before. How she smiles and laughs so much. She's happy. With Zack, she became this completely different person. She wasn't my sister anymore. Her personality took this huge three sixty and I barely recognized her anymore. And than she came here and met you and it took a while but she was the same person again. I got my sister back."

"She's healing, Adam," Flack told him. "Even now. It's a slow process, but she's getting there. Day by day."

He nodded and finished his own coffee and got to his feet. "All I know is it's nice having her back to the way she was before Zack. And if it takes a long time for her to be a hundred percent back to her old self, than oh well. At least she has you and the baby to help her along the way. I don't have to worry about you packing up and abandoning her."

"No, you don't," Flack assured him. "Now can we talk about something else? 'Cause you talking like this about my future wife and my son…it's getting me a little emotional here and I don't do emotional very well."

"Fair enough," Adam said, setting his mug on the window ledge before scampering up the ladder once again.

"So when are you and Broussard tying the knot?" Flack asked, dipping his sponge into the paint tray.

"Not entirely sure yet," Adam replied, pasting a star onto the ceiling. "We're still trying to decide what we want. Like do we want a big thing with a hundred plus guests in a fancy church and a kick ass reception afterwards? Or do we want to go with something more quaint and private?"

"Do your parents a favour," Flack said. "Have a medium to a large thing. So they can say at least one of their kids did it right. 'Cause when Sam and I told them when they came down while she was in the hospital that we were doing a civil thing with a judge and six guests and they weren't among them, I swear to God it shattered their hearts into a million pieces."

"I will take that into consideration and mention it to Gussie," Adam told the other man. "And I think my parents are just thankful Sammie met someone decent and didn't just jump into things with any guy off the street. They like you."

Flack snorted. "I got their baby girl pregnant out of wedlock. I am far from their favourite person."

"I don't know about that. Sarge is always going on about what a great guy you are for her."

Flack laughed. "Paging Rod Serling. 'Cause hearing you say that makes me feel like I'm watching an episode of The Twilight Zone."

"I never realized you were such a brain when it comes to pop culture," Adam grinned.

"I have many hidden talents, Ross."

"And home decorating happens to be one?" Adam teased.

"This is strictly something I am doing to make your sister happy. Because when your sister is happy, I'm happy."

"I am quickly learning that about women. That if you want a shred of sanity you will do just about anything for them."

Flack smirked. "That's one of the first rules of surviving in a relationship."

"What are some of the others?"

"Always let them think they're right and when they ask if they look fat in something, say no. Even if it's a lie."

Adam laughed. "I'll remember all of that."

"It's your only chance of survival, Ross. Trust me."

* * *

Flack dropped the sponge into the paint tray and pulled off his ball cap and wiped sweat off his brow with his forearm.

"There was something I've been meaning to ask you about," Adam said, affixing the last star above his head.

"What's that?" Flack asked.

"It's kinda personal, so if you think I'm stepping over the line in anyway, just tell me."

"Okay…it doesn't have anything to do with mine and your sister's sex life does it?"

Adam grimaced. "Hell no," he said.

"Than ask away."

"Does she talk about our dad to you? Our real dad, I mean."

Flack sighed and reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a folded and heavily wrinkled piece of paper. The page he had torn out of Sam's Martha Stewart magazine weeks ago when he'd decided to go ahead with plan for the nursery. He unfolded the picture to compare the image with what he'd created.

"She's talked about him a few times," he said in response to Adam's question. "I know that he was a monster and he was a drunk and he beat on you guys every chance he got and lock you two in the basement, sometimes for a couple days. She told me all of that once. Shortly after we got together. But she hasn't said much since."

"She used to get the beats worse because it pissed our dad off when she stuck up for me. Which was all the time. Has she ever said anything else to you? About other stuff that may have been going on?"

Flack frowned. "What kind of other stuff?"

Adam wasn't entirely sure if he was in the right mentioning his suspicions. Because they were just that. Suspicions. He had no proof that his father had been doing anything inappropriate to his sister. Other than he knew their dad was making nightly trips into Sam's bedroom for what seemed like years. And that Sam would sneak out of her room when their father passed out and climb into bed with her younger brother. She never talked about it and he never asked. And mentioning it to Flack felt as if he was betraying his sister.

Yet at the same time, the man he was talking to just wasn't some guy passing in and out of Sam's life. This was the father of her unborn child. In two days Don Flack would be her husband. And he deserved to know that something so horrific and disgusting had happened to her.

"Adam?" Flack snapped the younger man out of his daze. "What do you mean by other stuff?"

It could go either way. And Adam hoped the decision he was about to make was the right one.

"I was just trying to say that other things went on too and I wasn't sure if she mentioned them or not," Adam said, trying his best to back pedal without it being too obvious he was hiding something. His future brother in law was damn good at knowing when people were hiding things.

"You still haven't told me what these other things are," Flack told him. He knew in his heart of hearts that Sam had bee through more than what she had told him. But he wasn't going to react on gut instinct. So he waited, and hoped, that Adam would give him the information he needed.

"Sam just got the worst of it," the lab tech explained. "She was always sticking up for me and it made things worse. It was physical and mental and her being a girl…she just got the brunt of everything."

Flack nodded slowly. It didn't take an Einstein to figure out what Adam was getting at. Mixed in with certain sexual behaviours Sam had exhibited in the past and now the nightmares she was experiencing, it was safe to say more than physical and mental abuse had gone on. But that was up to Sam to tell him about. He knew that Adam was lying. But understood his reservations at the same time.

"It's horrible what you guys had to go through," Flack said, as he sank down to one knee to snap the lid back onto the paint can. "Amazing both of you ended up normal. Well, somewhat normal."

Adam laughed at that. "Sam's the odd one," he said.

Flack laughed as well. "Yeah…she's a little….eccentric…never been with a girl with tattoos and what not."

"Ever?"

Flack shook his head. "Never been with a brunette either."

"Get outta here," Adam made his way down the ladder.

"Seriously. Your sister is the first brunette I've ever been with. Been with blonds and red-heads but never with someone dark haired. I don't know why. I think maybe I've always been a bit intimidated by the brunettes I've known. They were always very assertive and aggressive and take no shit. I didn't want the hassle of trying to hook up with them. I wanted something easy. Not something I'd have to work my ass off for."

"And than you met Sam…"

He nodded and smiled. "Than I met Sam. And I would have shed blood, sweat and tears to get with her. Hell, I think I have. And it was worth every second and I'd do it all over again."

"Baby, I think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said about me," Sam said from the doorway. Holding a container of chocolate pudding in one hand, and several Cheezies in the other. The bag tucked under her arm.

Flack jumped. Startled by her sudden presence. "Woman, you have a bad habit of sneaking up on people."

She shrugged and dipped a cheese coated snack into the pudding before popping it into her mouth.

Flack's stomach retched. "Why, Sam?" he asked, grimacing. "Why?"

"It's good," she replied. "Really, really good, actually. How's it coming? I made you guys something to eat."

"You cook?" Adam's eyes widened in shock.

"Yes, I cook," she huffed.

"Is it edible?" he asked.

"Screw you, peanut!" she cried with an exaggerated pout. "Of course it's edible. Don's not dead and he's been eating my cooking for a while. Look at him! Does he look like he's wasting away?"

"It's because I sneak extra meals while I'm out and than pretend I'm hungry when I get home," Flack teased.

"Fuck you both!" she huffed and turned on her heel. "Well if you two ever feel like nachos and re-fried beans and homemade fries supreme, it will be waiting."

Adam and Flack looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"She being serious?" Adam asked.

"Guess there's only one way to find out," Flack replied, and draping an arm around his soon to be brother in law's shoulders, led the way from the room.

* * *

Flack had given Adam a ride home shortly before midnight. Far later than either of them had expected to be hanging out, but after the delicious meal Sam had prepared for them, the three had sat at the table and shared stories of Christmases past and funny things that had happened in their respective years in law enforcement and in Adam's case, a criminologist under Mac Taylor's tutelage. Than the two men had retreated to the couch and played Halo on X-Box 360 until nearly four hours had passed and Sam was yawning beside Flack on the couch and rubbing her weary eyes.

Now Flack was sitting up in bed, reading the latest chapter in his copy of The Expectant Father by the light of the lamp on the nightstand and running through his converstion with Adam in the now completed nursery. Sam was in the bathroom. He could hear the water running and the sound of her brushing her teeth.

"My gums are bleeding again," she complained as she turned off the water.

"Doctor said that was common," he reminded her.

"Who knew pregnancy caused so many different complications," she said with a sigh, flicking off the bathroom light and joining him in the bedroom.

"You're probably never going to want to do it again," he commented, glancing over at her. She looked devastatingly beautiful and sexy in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms one of his wife beaters. The bottom of the top pushed up to just below her chest as she smeared lotion on her stomach.

"I never said that," she said with a smile. "I just don't want to go through it again anytime soon."

He sniffed the air. "What is that stuff?" he asked.

"Cocoa butter," Sam replied, holding aloft the small bottom in one hand. "Stella bought it for me. It was in that massive gift basket she brought over the other day. It helps reduce the appearance of stretch marks. And in case you haven't noticed, I have tons."

"I haven't noticed," he said. It was a lie. He had but in no way did they bother him. But if a little white lie made her feel better about herself, it was worth it. "And you're beautiful no matter what."

She beamed at the compliment and rubbed the remaining cream in her palm into her hands before setting the bottle on the nightstand and pulling the wife beater down over her stomach. "I'm huge, Donnie," she said, as she pulled back the covers and climbed in beside him.

"You're a bit big," he agreed.

"A bit?" she laughed. "I'm a double wide trailer."

"No," he corrected. "You're pregnant. With my baby. And I happen to find you one fucking sexy pregnant chick."

She leaned sideways and kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder.

He laid a hand on her stomach. "He's being good tonight?"

"He was carrying on like crazy while I was brushing my teeth. So I don't know if he's just taking a quick breather or if he's actually settled down for the night. I am hoping it's the latter so I can actually get some decent sleep. And I forgot to show you!"

She lifted the wife beater and pointed to her belly button. "I have an outtie!" she cried and giggled. "I was getting changed and I noticed it poking out! It happened sometime today I guess."

He laughed and bent down to press a soft kiss to her tummy. "Put your shirt back down before you turn me on," he said.

"You are so easy to please," she said and fixed the shirt. "You and Adam seemed to have fun tonight."

Flack nodded. "He's a good guy."

"Thank you, Donnie. For giving him a chance. I know you guys don't exactly have much in common. Other than playing video games."

"That's where you're wrong, Sammie," Flack said, marking his page in his book and setting it on the nightstand. We have one major, huge thing in common."

She frowned. "What's that?"

"We both love you and want nothing but the best for you."

She smiled brightly and kissed him softly. "Corny but lovely," she said, and rubbed the end of her nose against the end of his.

"Quit it with your Eskimo kisses," he said, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his side.

She snuggled into him, her hand on his stomach. "Are you nervous?" she asked.

"About Friday?"

She nodded.

"Honestly? Not really."

"At all?"

He shook his head and kissed the top of her head. His hand came up to stroke her hair. "That surprises you?"

"A little," she admitted.

"I'm ready, Samantha. I told you that in the licence office. I am ready and nothing can stop me from marrying you. I will be there Friday night. Rain, sleet, snow, hurricane, tornado…whatever. We're gonna be husband and wife in less than forty eight hours and nothing is going to get in the way of that."

"Good," she said, rubbing his stomach. "Because if you had have stood me up I would have hunted you down and killed you. Actually, first I would have tortured you mercilessly and than killed you."

He laughed. "You could be the one to bail."

"Not going to happen," she said and yawned noisily. "You're going to stay overnight at Speed's tomorrow?"

He nodded. "I don't get this big deal about us not seeing each other the night before the wedding."

"Well I figured we haven't done anything traditional or normal our whole relationship," she said. "So we might as well toss in a little something."

"I guess it couldn't hurt," he chuckled.

"I tried my ring on tonight," she told him. "To make sure it still fits."

"And did it?"

"With a little room to spare. Thank God. And I have to admit. I really liked the way it looked. A wedding band on my finger."

He smiled and squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head.

They sat for some time. The only sound in the room their breathing. Their minds caught up in their own private thoughts.

"I'm hungry," Sam suddenly announced, breaking the silence.

"Jesus, woman," Flack grumbled. "What is it with you and all your meals today?"

"I can't help it! He makes me hungry all the time. Will you be a sweetheart and make me a snack?"

"Depends what you consider a snack," he said.

"Hmmm," she closed her eyes and scrunched up her nose as she considered her options. "I was thinking you could make me some grilled cheese with mustard and one of those little microwavable bowls of Kraft Dinner."

"Sam, that's not a snack, that's a meal," he complained, but was climbing out of bed as he did.

"I know…but I'm really, really, really hungry….and there's some of those re-fried beans left. Could you possibly, maybe, throw them in with the Kraft Dinner and mix them all around?"

"You are one sick human being," Flack said and headed for the door.

"Hey," she caught him by the hand as he passed by the bed. "You're a darling and I love you."

He grinned and leaned down to kiss the top of her head and than pulled up the bottom of her shirt to press his lips to her bare stomach. "Pain in the ass," he spoke to her stomach.

She grimaced as a sharp kick caught her just below the ribs. "See what you've done? You've gone and made him mad."

"Him? I should be the mad one. Last night you made me go to Wendy's at two in the morning to get you a Frosty and a Taco Salad and a spicy chicken sandwich. You know what that means?"

She smiled sweetly. "You're whipped?"

He frowned. "Means I'm insane," he corrected, and patting her stomach gently, lowered her top before heading to the door.

"And whipped," she called, laughing as she shot her a dirty look before disappearing out into the dark hallway.

* * *

It was honestly the best snack she'd had in a long time. And after washing it all done with a plastic tumbler full of milk and than brushing her teeth again, he took the dirty dishes to the kitchen and rinsed them and popped them into the washer.

Flack returned to bed and watched some highlights on ESPN while Sam sat beside him did her nightly music therapy as she called it and practiced some breathing techniques and exercising her Kegel muscles.

"Don't know why you need to do those," he had commented a couple weeks before. "My dick can testify your Kegel muscles are working just fine."

She'd frowned and smacked his shoulder and accused him of being a dirty minded perv and told him to stop having his mind in the gutter all the time.

He just couldn't help it. He was a red blooded male and she was an astonishingly sexy red blooded female. And she was all his.

Now, he couldn't keep the smirk off his face as she panted and wheezed beside him.

"Don't laugh," she said. "These exercises will help make pushing the baby out easier."

"I am laughing with you, Sammie. Not at you."

"Yeah…right…" she sputtered and than collapsed back against her pillow. "Enough…if I'm not ready to push the kid out by now, I will never be ready. I just hope he's not twenty plus pounds."

"Might be with everything you've been eating," Flack commented.

She frowned and reached out and yanked at some hair on his thigh.

"OW!" he rubbed his leg and pushed her hand away from him. "Watch it or I'll 'cuff ya and take ya downtown and charge you with domestic abuse."

"'Cuffs, huh? I think you're handcuffs play too big of a roll in our sex life as it is."

"Oh come on," he said, flicking the television off and tossing the remote on the nightstand. "When's the last time you let me play cops and robbers with you?"

Sam yawned. "A long time ago."

"Exactly. And if you ask me," he leaned over her, a hand on her pillow alongside of her head as he bent his head to kiss and nuzzle at the side of her neck. "We are just about due."

"Please," she laughed and put a hand on his chest and pushed him away gently. "You know what the doctor said. No intercourse. It's too painful and orgasm at this stage, with my history of contracting, might spur on early delivery. You were right there at the appointment."

"I know," he gave a frustrated sigh and flopped over onto his back. "I know."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"It's okay…I mean it's not…especially when we're getting married in less than forty-eight hours and we can't even, you know, consummate it afterwards. In a suite at the Pierre Hotel at that. How Mac and Stella pulled that off I'll never know."

"There's other ways to seal the deal as you so eloquently put it. Even if you are the only one that gets off."

"Yeah? What other ways?"

She grinned and pressed a kiss to his ear. "Use your imagination," she said, and let her hand slip down his chest and over his stomach. Stopping just shy of the top of his boxers and laying her head on his shoulder.

"I use my imagination and you'll be sealing the deal in about five minutes," he informed her.

She laughed and snuggled in close.

They lay in silence. Relaxing and unwinding after the long day. Taking a few minutes alone before sleep overtook them.

"You know, Sammie," Flack said at long last. "If you want to talk to me about anything that happened to you when you were a kid, you can."

"I've already told you everything," she responded.

"I know…but I mean if you want to tell me anything else."

"There's nothing us to tell you," she said. "I told you everything without going into huge detail."

"Okay…I'm just saying that you can tell me stuff. You know that, right?"

"Of course," she said, and sat up and kissed him. Long and soft. "I'm tired, Donnie…I think we should try and catch some sleep before Kieran decides to play soccer with my insides."

"Good idea," he agreed, and kissed her chastely, waiting for her to move away and get herself comfortable on her side with her pillow between her legs before switching off the bedside table lamp.

He lay down beside her. On his back, staring up at the ceiling. Reaching out he laid his hand on her back and rubbed softly.

"Donnie?" she whispered in the dark.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm scared."

"Of what baby?"

"I don't want to have any more dreams."

"Sammie, if there's something you need to tell me…"

"I just want you to hold me," she said. "Until I fall asleep."

"You got it," he told her and rolled over onto his side. Draping his arm over her side, she snuggled back into him. "I've got you, Sam," he buried his face in her hair. "I've got you and no one can hurt you anymore."

"Just hold me," she said and hugged his arm to her.

He kissed the back of her head and tightened his grip on her.

Vowing to never let her go.

* * *

Neither Sinclair nor Gerrard were overly impressed with the young man that sat before the Chief of Detective's desk at eight thirty the following morning. He looked nervous and concerned by the silence that greeted him the moment he'd stepped through the door. A curt "Shut the door, Detective." and a simple nod towards the chair had indicated that his superior officers were in no mood for small talk. That this was some serious shit about to go down. Sinclair was behind his desk, Gerrard leaned against a filing cabinet, clutching a file folder.

"I'm glad to see you got my message," Sinclair said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Why wouldn't I have gotten it?" Flack asked. "I don't think my wife would have held something like that back from me."

"Speaking of your wife," Gerrard said. "I was telling Chief Sinclair that you're getting married tomorrow evening."

Flack nodded.

"Congratulations," Sinclair told the younger man. "It's a big step. I wasn't expecting it to happen this soon."

"Is that why I'm here?" Flack asked. "To discuss my wedding tomorrow? You couldn't send us a gift basket or a card and congratulate us that way?"

The beginnings of a smirk caused the left corner of Gerrard's lip to twitch.

Sinclair sighed and picked up a file folder resting on his desk. "This, Detective Flack, is a copy of the sargeant's exam you took last week. I happen to be good friends with the administrator and I asked him to have someone grade your paper as soon as possible. So that Stan and I could revel in your success."

Flack didn't respond.

"The good news is that you passed," Sinclair continued. "The bad news, and I mean utterly, disgustingly bad is that you barely passed."

Gerrard pushed himself away from the filing cabinet and opened the folder he was holding and pulled out stapled sheets of paper and held them out to Flack.

The detective took them. It was a photocopy of his exam. With a large 67 scrawled at the top and circled in red pen. Flack's eyes widened. He felt sick to his stomach. And embarrassed.

"Not a pretty site is it," Sinclair said.

Flack shook his head.

"I am in the right frame of mind to consider that a failure and make you take the exam again," the Chief said coolly. "That is completely unacceptable for someone who has been on the force as long as you have. Someone with your arrest record and the number of high profile busts under your belt. I recommended you for this promotion and put faith in you to make the detective bureau proud. Make yourself proud. And this…" he held up his copy of the exam. "This is what you give me, Flack? This is your best?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, sir," Flack responded.

"Some kind of explanation would be nice," Sinclair told him. "You passed by two percent. The passing grade in the NYPD is sixty-five percent. Did you even study? Or did you close your eyes and hope for the best? Or maybe you played eenie, meanie, minie, moe and picked your answers that way."

"I studied," Flack told him, folding the papers so he didn't have to look at them any longer. "Probably not as much as I should have or could have. I've never been a scholar. I've never pretended to be one. And I've had a lot of stress on my plate lately. Between my case load and having a baby and getting married…"

"Stop right there," Sinclair held up a hand to halt the words coming from the younger man's mouth. "First of all, if you can't handle the stress of your case load now, how in the hell do you expect to handle it as a sargeant when you are directly in charge of detectives underneath you? You'll have your own cases and men coming to you for guidance and assistance. And if you can't handle the way things are as a second grade detective how…."

"I can handle it," Flack interrupted his superior officer. "I wouldn't have put in for a promotion if I couldn't. I was just trying to say that I've been dealing with some major things and…"

"Personal things," Sinclair concluded. "Major personal things. Now I am not a big proponent on office relationships. But Mac Taylor doesn't seem to have a problem with it considering he's involved with one of his own employees. As far as I'm concerned, when things like that take place, one of the parties should be transferred to another precinct so there's no change of conflict when things go south. Stan was even telling me that he specifically warned you about getting involved with someone you work with."

"With all due respect sir, I…"

"Don't say anything, Detective!" Sinclair snapped. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt when I found out you were involved with someone you work with. Both Stan and I wanted to transfer you and we agreed to give you a chance because you've always been able to handle yourself maturely and professionally. And you've been doing an admirable job until now. And now you sit here and tell me that you crapped out of an important exam because of personal stress?"

Flack sighed heavily.

"When you're at work, you leave all personal issues at home. Do you understand me?"

Flack nodded.

"Do you understand me?" Sinclair repeated forcefully.

"Yes, sir," he replied quietly.

"Stan saved your ass with this, Detective. I was going to suggest to the commissioner that you don't receive your promotion until you take another exam and show you're worthy of moving up the ladder. Inspector Gerrard talked me out of that because you happen to be his favourite. He obviously has more faith in you than I do. And I trust Inspector Gerrard and his decisions. And if he feels you deserve this promotion, than I will step back and allow it to go through."

"He deserves this, Chief," Gerrard said. "Don's never disappointed me. He's a hard worker. Disciplined. The best I've had in a long time. And there's no doubt in my mind that he's cut out for great things within the department. He slipped up. I doubt it was intentional and I doubt it will happen again. Will it, Don."

It was a statement and a warning. Not a question.

"It won't," Flack assured them both. His cell phone, tucked in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, vibrated against him.

"It better not," Sinclair said. "Or you'll be finding yourself back in a uniform. Permanently. Am I making myself clear?"

Flack nodded.

"As you know, as per department policy, any individual who is promoted is expected to serve x number of hours in a uniform and out on the streets," Sinclair said. "However, based on the fact that the detective bureau is massively understaffed at the moment and the fact that your wife is due to give birth within the next month, month and a half, the commissioner has agreed to forgo putting you back in a uniform. I think that was gracious of him. Don't you?"

"Of course," Flack responded. Frowning slightly when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. The third time in the last minute.

Sinclair sighed heavily. "If you so as much jay walk or spit on the sidewalk, Detective Flack, you are back on the street. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be sent notice to complete a department physical sometime within the next month," Gerrard told the younger man. "And sometime in the early New Year there will be a ceremony where you'll be presented with your stripes. It's dress uniform and attendance is mandatory. You'll be getting an invitation in the mail."

"That's fine," Flack said for lack of a better response. His phone went off again. A bigger frown crossed his face.

"Problem, detective?" Sinclair asked.

"Someone keeps calling me," he said, and despite the fact checking a call in the middle of a meeting with the Chief of Detectives wouldn't go over well, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.

D. MESSER, it read. A text message accompanying the call stated: URGENT 911.

Gerrard took the opportunity to glance down at the phone in the younger man's hands. "You better answer that, Don," he said, concern evident in his voice. "Go outside in the hall and talk the call."

* * *

Flack got to his feet and hurried out of the office, closing the door with a soft click behind him. HE pressed talk on the cell and put it to his ear. "Messer, what the hell…?"

"Sam's having the baby!" Danny practically shouted into the phone.

"Excuse me?" Flack asked. "What do you mean she's having the baby? I just left her at the lab less than an hour ago and she was fine."

"She came into the trace lab. Bringing me and Speed some results from DNA. And we were just standing there talking and all of a sudden she went completely white and nearly fainted and Speed had to grab her to keep her on her feet and she told him she was having contractions and the baby was coming. Her exact words."

Jesus Fucking Christ, Flack thought, and began pacing the width of the hallway, a hand to his forehead. This can't be happening. This isn't happening. She's not having this baby now. The day before our wedding. We're suppose to be getting married tomorrow. Not having the baby.

"Has her water broken or anything?" he asked.

"No. Nothing like that. Hawkes is with me. We're taking her to Women's and Children's."

"How close together are these contractions?" Flack asked.

"Fuck! I don't know! Hang on."

Flack sighed heavily and listened as Danny asked about the contractions.

"Hawkes says they're not regular but he's not taking any chances," Danny said into the phone.

"I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can," Flack told his best friend.

"You better be. 'Cause I've changed my mind about the whole being in the delivery room thing. It's just too fucking stressful and scary!"

And with that, Danny hung up.

Flack pressed end on the phone and went back to Sinclair's office. "Are we done here?" he asked, poking his head into the room.

"No we're not done," Sinclair responded.

"Well that's too bad," Flack said. "Because I am."

He shut the door once again.

"Don't make me regret this," Sinclair said to the Inspector. "That kid so as much makes one small fuck up and it's on your head."

Gerrard nodded in understanding and headed for the door.

"I'm warning you, Stan. He so as much sneezes in the wrong place and I'll have his ass on the street so fast his head will spin."

"I think he has bigger fish to fry at the moment, Chief," the older man said, and slammed the door closed behind him.

**A/N: I am unsure of the passing marks for promotions within the NYPD. So I went with what our police service has here. Which is 65 percent. **

**Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing and adding me to alerts! I appreciate each and every one of you. Even you lurkers! Please drop a line if you like this story! Your support keeps MOB going!**

**Thanks to my reviewers last chapter:**

**Hope4sall  
****Brrtmclv  
****Laplandgurl  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Truluv  
****wolfeylady  
****GregRox  
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****muchmadness  
****Forest Angel**


	96. He ain't heavy, he's my brother

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK) AND BABY KIERAN**

**A/N: I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO THIS, BUT: OKAY, I HAVE BEEN GETTING SOME MESSAGES SAYING THAT I STOLE SAMANTHA FLACK AND SCREWED THINGS UP BY MAKING HER FLACK'S WIFE INSTEAD OF HIS SISTER. I JUST WANT TO SAY, LOOK AT THE PUBLISH START DATE PEOPLE. THIS SAMANTHA WAS IN EXISTENCE WHEN THAT SAMANTHA WASN'T EVEN A TWINKLE IN TPTB'S EYES. IN FACT, UNTIL A MONTH AND A BIT AGO, HER NAME WAS MELANIE, SO IF ANYONE STOLE ANYTHING…ENOUGH SAID. JUST NEEDED TO CLEAR THAT UP.**

**Thanks to hope4sall for helping me work things out!**

**This chapter, specifically the last couple of sections, goes out to brrtmclv, my number one Peanut fan!**

* * *

**He ain't heavy, he's my brother**

"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road  
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go  
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why  
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time  
It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.  
I hope you had the time of your life.  
So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind  
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time  
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial  
For what it's worth it was worth all the while."  
-Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) Green Day

Danny paced the width of the hallway outside of the main doors that led into the labour and delivery ward of Women's and Children's Hospital. One hand buried deep in his hair, the other clutching his cell phone to his ear as he relayed information to Adam back at the lab. Keeping an eye on the elevators at the end of the hall to his left.

"Look, no one has told me anything," Danny said into the phone. "All I know is that Hawkes in there with the OB and they're doing all sorts of shit. Ultrasounds and listening to the baby's heartbeat and whatever….I don't know, Adam…what do you want from me?…I'm just as in the dark here as you and people are watching me pace and listening to me ramble and they're thinking I'm the expectant daddy…"

There was a loud chime from the end of the hall and Danny glanced over just as the elevator doors opened and Flack came hurrying out.

"Gotta go," Danny said into the phone. "Daddy's here…keep ya posted."

"What's going on Dan-o?" Flack asked. "Why are you out here? Where's Sam?"

"She's inside being looked over by the OB," he replied, snapping his phone closed. "Hawkes is in there with her. Which is why I'm out here waiting for you. They wouldn't let me in 'cause I'm not immediate family or the baby daddy."

"How is she? Anyone said anything?"

"She was fine when we got her up here. There was no more pain and she said she felt okay. But the doc wanted to check her out to be on the safe side. I don't think we're looking at her going into labour or anything. Hawkes seems to think it was a false alarm."

"But the contractions stopped and her water didn't break or anything like that? What about the stitches? She pop the stitches?"

"Yes, no and I have no idea. The nurses just shipped me out here and I was making some calls to keep everyone in the loop. You got here quick. You go lights and sirens all the way from mid-town?"

"Absolutely. All I could think about was what an ass I'd feel like if I took my time and got here to find out my son had been born. 'Cause I am telling you, this is exactly how I pictured things happening. Her going really fast and me being stuck somewhere else and missing the whole damn thing. And she'll kill me, Danny. If I'm not there when it all goes down, I won't make it to thirty-one. She'll kill me and you'll never find my body."

"Well, for now, you're still alive. You're here and nothing's gone down. So let's get you in there so you don't miss anything in case it does."

Danny laid a supportive hand on his best friend's shoulder and led the way to the heavy double doors marked LABOUR AND DELIVERY. Laying his hand on the large automatic entry button mounted to the left of the entrance. There was a soft buzzing noise and the doors opened slowly, allowing them access onto the noisy, busy ward.

"Is this dad?" a nurse behind the reception dad asked, pointing her pen in Flack's direction.

"It is," Danny answered.

"Just dad can go down. One visitor at a time."

"This is my brother," Flack said, as Danny's mouth opened to suggest he better go back and wait where he was.

The nurse gave Flack a once over. Then looked over at the much smaller, fair haired, bespectacled Danny. Both of her eyebrows arching as her face gave it away that she knew they were most likely full of shit. There was no way in hell, with the radical differences in both size and appearance that the two young men were related.

"Brothers?" she asked.

"My parents adopted him," Flack jerked a thumb at Danny. "When he was just a baby. It's why he looks so different. Obviously we don't have the same parents."

"Obviously," she snorted.

"What? You don't consider him my brother because we don't have the same blood running through our veins? We grew up together. Shared a room. Slept in bunk beds. We were joined at the hip. You actually going to stop my brother from coming down with me? You're going to hold him back from being there for the birth of his nephew?"

The nurse blinked at the annoyed, agitated and clearly angry tone in the young man's voice. "Of course not. I just…the two of you looked so different that I didn't…"

"Different parents," Danny said. "He just told you."

"Room 13," she told them. "Second from the end on the right hand side."

"Thank you," Danny said, offering up a pleasant smile before he and Flack headed down the hall. "Lucky number 13, huh? Wonder how many births that room has seen in it's time?"

"Probably tons," Flack responded. "But let's just hope my son's doesn't add to the list."

"Not ready yet?"

"Not in the slightest. I just want the kid to hang in until at least Boxing Day. The twenty-sixth hits and he can come whenever he feels like it. But our thing was to be married before he got here."

"If you were so concerned about that you should have gone the more traditional route of getting married and than getting pregnant," Danny chided.

Flack glared at him. "You preaching to me about pre-marital sex now, Messer?"

"No…of course not. I'm preaching to you about abstinence or safe sex."

Flack snorted and shook his head.

"Kidding, just kidding…so what if you guys took the less conventional path. It's all good. Important thing is it's just not some girl you got pregnant by mistake and than up and bailed on. I mean, you're getting married in what?" he checked his watch. "About thirty-five minutes give or take a few. You ain't nervous about that?"

"Not as nervous as I am about having a baby," Flack said.

"Man, I thought you'd be quaking in your boots by now. In less than two days you'll be a married man. The guy who used to swear up and down that he'd never settle down. And you're doing it in style. A wife and a baby within a month and a bit of each other. You're brave, Flack. Damn brave."

"Messer, once Erica starts popping kids out, you'll understand how nerve wracking it is. Until than, keep you're yap shut."

"We're not having any kids," Danny informed his best friend.

"Why not?"

The CSI shrugged. "She doesn't want any."

"And you're okay with that? What happened to the guy who used to bitch and moan to me when he was with Monroe about wishing she'd shit or get off the pot so you could have a life together? Marriage, kids, the whole nine?"

"That was Montana. This is Erica. Two totally different women."

"Hold up," Flack stopped walking and laid a hand on his best friend's shoulder to halt him. "You just called her Montana. You haven't called her that since she's been gone. You said you'd retired that name a long time ago. And now you're just pulling it out of your ass. What's up with that?"

"Nothing. I used to call her that all the time. Slip of the tongue I guess."

Flack cocked his head to the side and observed the smaller man with a slight smirk on his face. "You've been talking to her, haven't you," it was more of an accusation than a question.

"Who?"

"Monroe. Lindsay Monroe."

"Get outta here. Of course not."

Flack stepped in front of Messer to keep him from escaping. "When's the last time you talked to her?" he asked.

"Don, seriously. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit. I know you, Danny. We've been friends a long time. I know when you're lying. And you're lying to me right now. So let's hear it. When was the last time you spoke to Monroe?"

Danny sighed.

Flack arched an eyebrow.

"Two weeks ago," Danny admitted solemnly.

The detective snorted and shook his head and walked away. "You're pathetic, Messer."

"Look, she and I have been talking again for a few months now," Danny explained as he chased after his friend. "She called me up, all torn up about missing New York and the team and said she needed someone to talk to. I wasn't just going to hang up on her."

"Why not?"

"I don't know…she just sounded really sad and I didn't have the heart to shoot her down."

"Erica know you been talking to her?"

Danny sighed and shook his head.

"Christ, Danny. What's wrong with you? You've got this woman that's crazy about and you swear up and down you're madly in love with yet your carrying on a thing with your ex?"

"It's not a thing. It's phone calls. We're not having an affair. We're not even having phone sex or anything of the sort. We're friends. Plain and simple."

"How do you be friends with someone you were banging? You see me hanging around with girls I've been with? I keep my damn distance."

"Come on. You telling me that if you and Sam broke up you wouldn't try and be friends with her?"

"No. How could I be friends with her? You realize everything that's at stake if Sam and I ever broke up. Divorce, child custody, all that crap? Alimony and support for the kid and visitation every weekend if I'm lucky. How could I be friends with my ex-wife if I was still in love with her and just wanted my old life back?"

"Okay…so Sam and you weren't the best example to use. There's a lot riding on you guys making it work. I get that and I respect that. But I don't see the major deal with me and Montana still being friends."

"You even care about what Erica's gonna say when she finds out? You care that she's probably gonna boot your ass out and tell ya if you want country girl to go and find her?"

"Erica isn't going to find out so don't be worrying about stuff like that. You just keep your nose out of my business and don't be saying a damn word to her. I can talk to who I want to. No concern of yours."

Flack shook his head. "You're right. It's not. But you're my best friend and maybe I don't want you screwing up your life playing what might have been with your ex. But hey, you want to toss away what you have now for another shot at Monroe, that's your business."

"We're just friends, Don. That's it."

"You can honestly tell me you've got no feelings for Lindsay Monroe whatsoever?"

Danny sighed.

Flack paused outside the door belonging to room thirteen and turned to face his friend Lowering his voice so no one inside could hear. "Are you shitting me, Messer? You still have feelings for her?"

"Some," he admitted.

"So what the hell are you doing with Erica, than? Why have you been wasting all these months of the girl's time? Why aren't you getting your ass on the next plane to Montana and chasing down the love of your life?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't know…okay? I just…I feel like I owe something to Erica now that we've been together all these months. And she's a great girl when we're not fighting all the time and I don't want to hurt her. Trust me, that's the last thing I want to do."

"So what now? Gonna have honest to God real sex with one and phone sex with the other?" Flack asked sarcastically. "You know, best of both worlds. Have your cake and eat it too?"

"Why you gotta be like that?" Danny retorted. "All high and mighty with people? Like you're so goddamn perfect all the time? You and Sam have your own problems to straighten out before you go worrying about, and commenting about, mine. Think Sam would be too thrilled if she knew Devon stopped by the precinct last week to talk to you?"

"She came by because she needed some legal advice."

"So hire a fucking lawyer. Don't show up at your ex-boyfriend's desk in a mini skirt and no underwear and a top three sizes to small. Thousands of cops in this city and she just had to talk to you? Does she even realize you're getting married and having a kid?"

"I told her back in September and I told her again when she came by. There was nothing more to it, Danny. She needed help and I tried giving it to her."

"Yeah…I bet you wouldn't mind giving it to her, would ya?"

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

"Like you said we've known each other a long time. I think I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. And I know that you're physically and mentally incapable of staying committed to one woman for a prolonged period of time. I don't know how long it's going to be. Six months, a year, a few years. But you're gonna get bored of playing husband and daddy and find a little something on the side to keep you happy."

"Fuck you, Danny," Flack snarled. "You don't know what you're talking about. Ten years from now, when Sam and I are still together with a half a dozen kids and you're miserable and alone, I'm going to bring this moment up to you and you can apologize for being such an ass."

"And ten years from now when you're divorced and paying child support out your ass, what than?"

"You know what…." Flack took a step towards his friend, an angry finger pointed in the CSI's face. He was half tempted to knock half pint Danny Messer on his ass, but any thought of such was thwarted by Sheldon Hawkes stepping out of the room across from them.

* * *

"Hey, doc, what's up?" Danny asked. "I don't hear any screaming brat so everything must be okay."

"Braxton Hicks contractions," Hawkes answered, speaking more to Flack. Oblivious to the fact that the two men had just been in the midst of a nasty exchange before he arrived on the scene.

"What are those?" Danny inquired. "Like real contractions or what?"

"False labour. Sometimes called practice contractions. They're sporadic contractions of the uterus," Hawkes explained. "Relatively painless, but they hurt enough to scare women into thinking they're going into actual labour."

"So what's the deal?" Flack asked. "She either is or she isn't having the baby."

"OB checked her and there's no sign that she's in labour or in danger of going into labour," Hawkes replied. "There's slight worry that these contractions could be a sign of effacement."

"What in the hell is that?" Danny asked.

"Thinning of the cervix," Flack answered before Hawkes had a chance to.

Danny arched an eyebrow. "You know a little too much about this whole childbirth thing."

"I read," Flack explained. "A lot."

"So this thinning thing," Danny said. "What will this do?"

"Other than split the stitches holding the cervix together, it's the first sign of labour," Hawkes told them. "But like I said, the OB sees no signs whatsoever that labour is eminent."

Flack sighed and ran a hand through his hair and than over his face. "Nothing can go easy, can it. This whole pregnancy has been one crazy ass thing after another. Why can't the last month and a half just go nice and smooth. I mean, is that too much to ask?"

"Some women just have a rougher, more exciting time than others," Hawkes reasoned.

The detective laughed. "Yeah? And I just happened to find one of them? I'm telling ya, when this kid finally gets here, we're all going out to Sullivan's and racking up a huge tab. My treat."

"Well considering you're on the wagon, I'll gladly drink you're share," Danny chided.

"So what now?" Flack asked Hawkes. "Does she have to stay in the hospital or can she go home….?"

"Doctor wants to keep her here for a couple of hours," Hawkes said. "To keep an eye on things. Better to be safe than sorry."

Flack nodded in agreement.

"They did an ultrasound. Apparently your son, at this moment is breach."

"Go figure," Danny laughed. "Flack's boy coming ass first. Why am I not surprised?"

"So will he stay that way or what?" Flack asked.

"Most babies end up turning around the right way before it's time to give birth to them," Hawkes assured him. "If a later ultrasound around the thirty-sixth week shows that the baby is still breach, than the doctor will either try and change his position by hand, or just suggest scheduling a c-section."

"Honestly," Flack said. "I'm praying and hoping for the latter. 'Cause if that woman can't handle these fake labour pains, how in the hell is she going to handle the real ones? And do it without being allowed an epidural? She won't make it."

"I think you're seriously underestimating her," Hawkes said. "She's small but mighty. And she just may surprise you when the time arrives."

"Break his hand in the delivery room is what she's going to do," Danny declared. "That's a give in."

"You can go in and see her," Hawkes told Flack. "The doctor's long gone. She just has Sam resting on her left side. It helps keep the Braxton-Hicks contractions at bay. And make sure she gets lots of clear fluids. She's slightly dehydrated so that could have made the pain worse. Has she been vomiting a lot lately?"

"Last few days she's been sick to her stomach quite a bit," Flack said. "We just chalked it up to bad nerves. She's been on pins and needles about the wedding. Speaking of which, are you sure you can't make it, Hawkes?"

"Mac and Stella need someone to be on duty with them," he responded with a sigh. "I would have loved to have been there, but I was the low man on the totem pole. I've got a little something to give you and Sam so if you want to come by upstairs sometime tomorrow, I can give it to you than."

"You didn't have to get us something, Hawkes. There's no need."

"I wanted to," he assured the younger man. "You don't get married but once in a lifetime. Well, some of us anyway."

"Once is enough for me," Flack agreed. "Thanks…you always seem to be around with shit goes down."

"Shit seems to follow me," Hawkes said with a slight chuckle. "If you need Danny and I to stick around…."

"I think we'll be okay," Flack told him. "Thanks guys. For getting her here in one piece."

"Call us if there's any change," Hawkes clapped the detective on the shoulder. "Or even if you just have any questions or concerns."

"I will," Flack promised, and watched as the two men headed off down the hall.

"Nine o'clock tonight, Sullivans," Danny called over his shoulder. "Don't forget. Last night as a free man. Every guy deserves some kind of bachelor party. And bring your wallet. Just in case Sam pops that kid out and you gotta pay up on your promise."

"I don't know if I'm going to make it with what went down today," Flack responded.

"You better be there. Call so I know what's up. If you're at home or at work or what."

"Keeping tabs on me now, Mess?"

"Gotta make sure you don't do a runaway groom," Danny laughed before he and Hawkes disappeared around the corner.

Flack smirked. Sighing heavily, he steeled his nerves and pushed his way into the hospital room.

Just a little ways to go, he thought.

I hope I make it.

* * *

She was embarrassed.

Humiliated that she'd panicked and assumed the worst and forced both Hawkes and Danny to take her to the hospital. Only to be told, in not so many words, that the pain she was feeling was not as intense as she was imagining it was and that it was basically all in her head. She wasn't in labour. There were no signs that it was even going to happen anytime soon. She had overreacted. Plain and simple. Her argument was how in the hell was she suppose to know what was real and what wasn't? She'd never given birth to a baby before. She didn't know what it felt like or what to expect. So what if she wasted the doctor's and the nurses time. That's what they got paid to do. Take care of pregnant women and their babies and everything that came with the miracle of life.

To be on the safe side, the girls night that had been scheduled to take place at Erica's had now been moved to Sam's apartment. It had just been a simple thing that had been planned. Take out and a few drinks for those that could indulge, and laughs between friends. Nothing too strenuous or exciting. No one felt like delivering a baby on the living room floor.

"You sure you don't want me to stick around?" Flack asked, as he came into the living room carrying a black Henley style shirt.

"You've had this night planned for a couple of months now," Sam said from the couch, where she was watching a re-run of Sex and the City while crunching noisily on a cup full of crushed ice.

"I know. But after what went down today, I don't feel too comfortable just leaving you here," Flack told her, as he sat the shirt on the back of the couch and zipped and buttoned his jeans and buckled his belt.

"It's not like I'll be alone," she reminded him. "If anything happens, the girls will take care of it and call you. Wanna hear something weird?"

"Sure."

"There's a guy on here that looks like a younger version of you."

"Yeah?" Flack snagged the shirt from the back of the couch and tugged it on. "Whose he banging?"

"Sarah Jessica Parker. And apparently he's a bi-sexual."

Flack grimaced. "There's one road not travelled. And it never will be."

"Oh come on. I know you got a little turned on watching Brokeback Mountain."

"Excuse me? That was you. I was nearly gagging and you were practically attacking me 'cause it just did something for you."

"I will neither admit or deny that," she said, rubbing her stomach.

"You don't have to. I have the scars from bite marks on my left shoulder to prove it."

"I am not that bad," she said, and shook some of the ice into her mouth.

He arched an eyebrow that let her know how full of shit that comment was and plopped down on the couch beside her.

"You're sure you're going to be okay?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "For the twentieth time in an hour, yes."

"I'm not gonna be home tonight and I'm not sure I like the idea of you being alone all night."

"Carmen is already staying over to keep an eye on me," she informed him. "And she will call you if we need you. As long as she doesn't have to go hunt you down at any strip club."

"Come on. You know I don't go to places like that,"

It was Sam's turn to arch an eyebrow.

"Okay…so say we do end up at a place like that out of sheer coincidence. I already know our whole look but don't touch policy. So don't worry. I won't be getting any lap dances or picking bills out of some girl's g-string with my teeth. Unless, you know, you decide you don't want to go ahead with this whole staying apart the night before the wedding and you give me a little private show later."

She grimaced. "I'm seven and a half months pregnant," she reminded him.

"Yeah….and you're point?"

"Please. Not even you are horny enough to want to see me naked when I look like this."

"Wanna test that theory?" Flack asked, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders and pulling her into his side. "I can take you into the bedroom and show you just how attractive I find you? How you still do it for me despite all your bitching and moaning about being the size of a small house?"

"You are one sick human being," she declared, but there was a smile on her face as she rested her head on his shoulder. "So?" she asked, picking at a loose thread on the neck of his shirt. "With all the excitement your son caused today you never told me what Sinclair wanted to talk to you about."

"It was about my sargeant's exam," he told her, rubbing her arm softly.

"You don't sound too overly thrilled about it," she observed.

He shrugged.

She sat up and curled her arm around his neck and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry, Donnie," she said sincerely. "I know how bad you wanted that promotion. And how bad I wanted it for you."

"What are you sorry about? I got the promotion."

"You did?" a broad smile lit up her entire face. Her eyes sparkling and her nose crinkling.

It was that smile, which made her appear years younger than she really was, that had made him fall in love with her nearly nine months ago. And a brief thought, of how it would kill him if the day ever came that he no longer saw that smile, came over him and nearly crippled him with fear. Because the truth of the matter was, the day that came was the day he may as well lie down and die himself.

He couldn't resist laying a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her into him for a long, soft kiss.

"Is that a yes or a no?" she asked with a giggle.

"I got my promotion," he confirmed.

"That's wonderful, baby," she gushed, holding his face in her hands as she covered his lips in a congratulatory kiss. "You don't sound too happy about it? This is what you really wanted. To become a Sargeant. I thought you'd be a little more excited about it."

"I would have been if the circumstances had have been different."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and removed his arm from around her shoulders and leaned forward to pull the exam papers out from under the stack of old magazines he'd hid them under. They'd been rolled up and tucked in the inside of his suit jacket, and after taking her home from the two hour stay at the hospital, he'd stashed them under the magazines while she took a well deserved nap. Saving them for a rainy day.

He held them out to her.

"Your test results?" she asked.

Flack nodded.

Sam took them from him and unrolled them. Leafing through the various pages with barely a flicker of emotion crossing her face.

"Sixty five is the percentage you have to get to pass in NYPD," Flack told her.

"Well you got sixty seven," she said. "So you passed. That's all that matters."

"I could have done a lot better. I know that. You know that. I didn't study as often and as much as I should have. I'm better than a sixty seven, Samantha."

"Of course you are. But things sometimes get in the way and you can't fault yourself for trying your best."

"I didn't try my best. I don't know what happened. I don't think I really tried at all to be honest. All of a sudden I was sitting there writing it and I was bored to shit. It became this huge chore and I couldn't wait to get out of there fast enough. And I'm never like that when it comes to the job."

"We all have those moments, Donnie. The point is is that you passed. It may not be the greatest mark in the world. But you made it. And I'm proud of you regardless if you made it at the top of the class or near the bottom. That doesn't matter to me. You went after it and you got it and there's nothing for you to be ashamed about."

"I could have done better, Samantha. I wanted to do better. This way, getting a mark like that? I don't feel like I achieved anything. It's like I just squeaked by."

"Well you did achieve something. You moved up the ladder. And I don't care if you did it was a sixty seven or a ninety seven. I'm proud of you and you should be proud of yourself. No one expected you to get this far at your young age. And you've worked hard to get where you are and no one can take that away from you."

He sighed heavily and took the papers from her and stared down at them. "I need to do better," he said. "I need to prove myself more."

She wanted to ask him just what he was trying to prove. If he was just pushing himself that extra bit to look better to his old man and all those cops that constantly compared father and son and made the Jr feel as if he was insignificant and unworthy to even carry the family name. But bringing up her soon to be father in law would only cause more pain and bitterness, and this moment was about celebration something great. Not pulling someone down.

"If that's what you feel you need to do, than I'll support you a hundred percent," she said. "But I want you to want that for yourself. Not for other people and the way they look at you."

He nodded but didn't respond.

"Whatever you need to do, Donnie, I'll back you. You know that."

"I know," he said with a smile, and ran a hand over her hair. Tucking some behind her right ear. "I just want you to be proud of me, Samantha."

"I am proud of you," she assured him and moved closer to him on the couch. "But the thing that I'm most proud of you about has nothing to do with exams or sargeant's stripes or promotions."

"What else is there?" he asked.

She picked up his hand and laid it on the side of her stomach. "Your son. You helped create him. And you've been supportive and strong and you've matured a hell of a lot since we found out about him. That's what I'm proud of you for. Because you can fail every test there is and not live up to these enormous expectations people have dumped on you, but nothing changes the fact that you're Kieran's father. Look what you helped make. No one can ever take that away from you."

"Any fool with a dick can make a baby, Samantha," he said.

"True. But it takes a real man to raise a child."

He smiled and drew her into him for a tender, lingering kiss. "I'm worried I won't be very good at it," he admitted, combing his fingers through her hair as he looked deep into those golden eyes.

"You will be," she assured him. "And I'm terrified I'm going to be a horrible mother who leaves her baby in the grocery store and forgets to feed him or change his diaper for hours on end."

"Poor kid doesn't stand a chance with the two of us in charge," he said with a small chuckle.

"Well, I figure if we're both incredibly horrible at it, one will cancel the other out and make at least one of us tolerably decent," she reasoned, and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Just remember, I don't do diapers."

She laughed and pulled away from him and slowly and carefully got to her feet. "Sorry. There is no way you are going to escape diaper duty all together."

He stood as well, laying a hand on the small of her back as the other hand took her by the elbow and he helped her to her feet.

"I will be so glad when this is over," she declared, picking up her glass of ice chunks before waddling towards the kitchen with a hand on the small of her back.

"Told you you'd want a puppy at the end of this," he called to her.

"A whole litter of them," she responded. "Will you be glad? When it's over?"

"More relieved than anything. It's been….what's the best word….a journey."

"Yeah….a long, tiring journey to hell and back," she said. "But you know, despite it all, there's not much I would change. You've made it bearable."

"As much as I wish I could say the same for you…"

"I know," she laughed. "I've been an insufferable bitch. But face it, Donald Flack Junior. You'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."

He smiled.

There was no denying it.

* * *

Somewhere between shooting pool and half naked women gyrating in his face as he clumsily slipped dollar bills provided by a shit faced Danny Messer into their barely there underwear, Flack fell off the wagon.

And he fell off hard.

He had promised himself, as he left his very pregnant fiancee gossiping and giggling in the living room with her friend,s that he'd have one drink. One beer just for the sake of saying he had one at his bachelor party. That one beer rapidly progressed into two. Two became three. And three became an entire pitcher accompanied by nearly a dozen Jack Daniel's shooters.

Flack had no idea how he had let it happen. It was all a complete blur to him now as Danny, heavily slurring his words, waved down a waitress to order another round of drinks and a bottle of tequila. All he was aware of was an equally as drunk Adam Ross nearly passed out with his head on the table top and Tim Speedle, acting designated driver, watching it all go down with a disgusted, annoyed look on his face.

That and some blond thing with breasts way too large to be real, perched on his lap. Playing with his hair and his ears and asking him about why he was throwing his life away on just one woman when there was so many fish in the sea to have fun with. He didn't know who she was or how she'd gotten onto his lap. What he did know, was that as drunk as he was, he wasn't comfortable with the situation. He felt like a complete and utter prick for allowing something like that to happen when he had a perfectly happy, satisfying life less than twenty minutes from where he now was.

Than he realized his hands were somewhere they shouldn't have been. Nowhere outrageously scandalous. But resting on her bare thighs was farther than he ever should have gone. He yanked his hands away as if he'd been scalded and quickly stood up, stumbling backwards drunkenly and nearly dumping the scantily clad woman on her ass on the worn out carpet below.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" she screamed over the loud, pounding music, angrily shoving him.

Speed was in the midst of things before Flack could even react. Stepping between the detective and the voluptuous blond before things could get out of control and the massive bouncers watching intently from across the room decided to pounce.

"I think you need to take a hike," Speed said to the stripper.

"I think you need to step back and let your buddy fight his own battles," she shot back.

Speed reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. Opening it, he grabbed two twenties and held them out to the young woman. "Take a hike," he said. "I don't want to see you back here. My friend's pretty damn drunk. And he's a huge guy so you can imagine how much money he's dropped in this place to get the way he is. So unless you want me calling your manager over here and telling him you're harassing a customer tossing benjamins around this place, I suggest you back off."

She snatched the money from his hand and tucked it into her sequined bra. "Who do you guys think you are?"

"NYPD, baby!" Danny exclaimed, and slammed back a shot.

"You okay?" Speed asked Flack, laying a hand on the larger man's shoulder. The detective was unsteady on his feet.

Flack nodded. "I'm good," he said. "I need to…I need to get some air. Before I throw up all over the place."

"Good idea," Speed said. "Cold air will sober you up a bit. Why'd you even let yourself get like this? After making the commitment to not do shit like this anymore?"

"I don't need a fucking lecture, Speedle," Flack snapped, and went around to the other side of the table, where a bleary eyed Adam, a goofy grin on his face, was taking in the sights of the half naked women parading around the stage just feet away.

"Let's go and get some air, Ross," Flack said, not giving his brother in law a chance to answer before he was all but yanking him up and off the chair by the shoulders of his plaid shirt.

"Hey…" Adam protested mildly, snagging his bottle of beer before Flack could drag him off. "Where we going?"

"Outside," the detective replied. "To sober up. Get some air."

"Together?" Adam inquired.

Flack nodded.

"Never thought I'd see the day the two of us got cozy," Adam said, and proceeded to place a noisy, wet kiss on his brother in law's cheek.

"You're lucky you're somewhat related to me," Flack grumbled. "Or I'd be burying you for that."

* * *

He shoved open the rear entrance of the club and he and Adam stumbled out into the frigid night air. The wind was strong and the snow swirled around them yet neither noticed. All they noticed was how good the air felt on their flushed faces and how it refreshed and revitalized them. Somewhat at least.

Flack took in huge gulps of air. It burned his lungs yet felt so damn good all at the same time. He was vaguely aware of the lab tech leaning against the brick wall of the exterior of the club, his beer bottle still clutched tightly in his hands despite having his head hung low and his elbows on his knees.

"Adam…buddy…you ain't gonna be sick on me are ya?"

He shook his head vigorously. "Just need a few minutes…to get myself together…just give me a few…."

Flack nodded in silent agreement and patted his jeans down. He'd left his pack of smokes back in the club, Sitting on the table. His head pounded and his stomach felt queasy. He belittled himself for allowing things to get so out of control.

His cell phone was clipped to the waist of his jeans and he yanked it off. He'd left the phone turned on and had put it on vibrate in case a call came through in regards to Sam and the baby. Thankfully, nothing had gone wrong and the only call he'd received was two hours ago. His soon to be wife telling him that she was on her way to bed.

He checked his watch. Quarter after two. Damn late. Too damn late, in fact. But that didn't stop him from dialling the familiar number.

It rang several times. He was worried the call was going to go to the answering machine. His heart lightening and his face breaking into a broad smile as her tired, groggy voice finally came through.

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby," he greeted cheerfully.

"Donnie?" she sounded disoriented. Confused. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just out with the guys and I wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, that's sweet…but it's almost two thirty in the morning."

"I woke you up?"

"Uh…yeah…are you drunk?"

"Of course not," he lied. "Why would I be drunk? I haven't had anything to drink in a while. When's the last time I had something to drink? What makes you think I'm drunk?"

"Maybe because you're running off at the mouth, talking loud enough to bust my ear drum and because you thought calling home at two thirty in the morning was a good idea. And because you're accent is always really thick and hard to understand when you've been drinking a lot. Like it is right now."

"I just wanted to hear your voice. Check on things. Make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine."

"What did you and the girls do?"

"Don, it's two thirty in the morning. Can we not talk about this in, I don't know, eight or so hours?"

"I'm just curious."

She sighed. "We just had some take out and hung out and talked and relaxed. Stella had a little too much wine and she's passed out face down on the couch and Carmen's snoring like a maniac next to me."

"Carmen's sleeping in the same bed as you?"

"Yeah….so?"

"I'll be home in like ten minutes if that's the case. I can think about a dozen sick and perverted things I could do to both of you."

"Goodnight, Don," she said in a tone that let him know that comment wasn't appreciated.

"I'm just kidding, Sam. I wouldn't actually do anything. Carmen could watch us. Even better, I could sit back and watch you and her. That would be an awesome wedding present."

"I'm hanging up now," she huffed.

"Wait…wait…I'm sorry…I'm just joking, baby. And you're right, I have been drinking."

"Well no shit, Sherlock," she snorted.

"I've just had a few. That's it. Nothing major."

"Where are you?" she asked.

"I'm with Adam in an alleyway somewhere. I don't know. I think we're in mid-town."

"You think?"

"I'm pretty wasted, Sam."

She sighed. "Can I talk to my brother?"

"Uh…." Flack glanced over his shoulder to where Adam Ross was downing the remains of his beer. "I don't think that's a good idea at the moment," he told Sam.

"Why not?"

"He's more polluted than I am."

"Well, can you at least make sure that he doesn't pass out in a gutter somewhere? He's not exactly, how do I put this? He's not exactly used to partying with the big boys. And you and Danny…well you and Danny are bottomless pits when it comes to booze."

"I'll make sure he gets to the nearest park bench in one piece," Flack promised.

"Donnie," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"What? Way I'm going I'll be parked right alongside of him."

She didn't respond.

"You mad at me?" he asked.

"For what?"

"Being drunk. Especially when I've been on the wagon and what not for a couple months now."

"I'm not mad at you," she said. "Just…I wish you hadn't have done it."

He sighed. "Me either."

"Things happen and people slip up. I'm not going to preach to you or fault you for it. I just…I don't want you going back to the way you were before. Because that was scary."

"I know. And I won't. Go back to that. It's just one night. I swear that I'm going right back on the wagon as soon as this night is over."

"That's your decision," she told him.

"Yeah…but it affects the three of us."

She yawned noisily,

"I love you, Samantha, I don't want to lose you."

"I love you, too. And you're not going to. I'm not mad or anything. I understand that guys do stupid things the nights before their wedding. As long as your doing something stupid doesn't included taking some woman to a hotel or something."

"Of course not," he assured her quickly. "Never. I would never do that. I love you too much to ever do that. You know that right? You know I love you. That I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You're my everything, Samantha. My entire world. And you're so good to me and you put up with all of my bullshit and you love me back and you're marrying me so you must at least tolerate me to some extent, right?"

"Donnie, I do love you. But right now you're a rambling drunk and I'm exhausted."

"I just wanted to call you and tell you all of that. And tell you how badly I fucked up."

"You need to go and have some coffee and go back to Tim's and sleep it off," she told him. "You'll be as hung over as hell, but you'll feel a hundred times better in the long run."

"You're right," he agreed. "I need to sleep it off. I'm really, really, drunk."

"I know…can I hung up now? Please? I'm tired, baby."

"If you need anything, you know where I'll be."

"Goodnight, Don," she said.

"Sam…hold up for a second…."

She sighed in agitation.

"I love you," he said. "And that's the one shred of sober me that's talking."

"I love you, too," she said. "Now I am going back to sleep. Please don't call me back until you're completely sober."

"I won't. Just think, in about nineteen hours, me and you are going to be married. How surreal is that?"

"Goodnight," she said, and he could tell there was a smile on her face.

"'Nite," he said in response and hung up.

* * *

"Were you giving your drunken confessional to my sister?" Adam slurred as he stumbled over towards his brother in law.

"Your sister and I were having phone sex," Flack replied.

"Hey…" Adam pointed a drunk finger at the detective. "Watch it…that's my baby sister…wait…no it isn't…she's older than I am…but she's just so small and everything that it seems like she's my baby sister…you know, we used to joke all the time that we didn't think we had the same father because of how different we look…"

Flack had to admit he often wondered the same thing. He'd never seen a picture of their birth father, but having met Sam's mother and seeing the vague resemblance she had to both her children, he figured one of them most likely came from a different dad. Sam had all her mom's features save for the colour of eyes and hair. Adam had his mother's eyes but nothing else. And the siblings were just so….different. In every way possible. He'd told himself that he was probably just reading too much into it. There were lots of siblings that didn't look like each other. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something not quite right.

"So you guys are a little different," he said with a shrug.

"A little?" Adam laughed. "We're polar opposites. There's nothing even remotely similar about us. And it's not just looks either. It's…everything. I mean, you said it yourself when you first found out Sam was my sister. That there was no way we could be related."

"I meant that as a joke, Adam. Because Sam's so Sam and you're so…you."

"Exactly. We're nothing alike."

"I'm nothing like my brother and we still have the same mother and father."

"But you probably still look alike, right?"

"Sure, but…."

"Sam and I don't look anything alike. And I look like my real dad. Trust me, I am near a spitting image of him. But Sammie…she doesn't look like him or our mom. See what I'm getting at?"

"I think you're reading too much into it, Adam. Maybe she looks like a mixture of both. Come on, let's go inside…I'm freezing my ass off here."

Flack headed for the door. Adam didn't follow.

"I mean that would explain why he did what he did to her," Adam mumbled. More to himself than Flack.

"Come again?" Flack asked, joining his brother in law once again. "I didn't catch that."

"I was just saying that it would explain why he did what he did. Our dad. To my sister. Because no birth father would do something like that to his child. I mean, they couldn't be that sick and twisted can they?"

"Birth parents do all sort of sick shit to their kids, Adam. I've seen stuff on the job that will make your hair stand on end. And both of you got the crap kicked out of you and tormented as kids, not just Sam. You both went through hell."

"I'm not talking about the physical stuff, Don, I'm talking about the other things he did to her."

"Come on," Flack wrapped an arm around Adam's shoulders and tugged him towards the door. "You've had a lot to drink and what you're going to be saying next is something I don't want to be hearing right about now. Okay? And I shouldn't be hearing it from you."

"But I just don't get it," Adam fought off the larger man's attempts to escort him inside. Tears of rage burned his eyes. The alcohol giving him the much needed courage to just get his pain out in the open. To rely on and trust in the only person he had faith in save for his sister and Gus. And even she didn't know the whole truth.

"I need someone to explain it to me," the lab tech continued. "I need you to tell me why. You're a cop. Tell me why he did the things he did. Why he used us as human punching bags and treated us like we were nothing more than shit on the bottom of his shoe. We were kids! We didn't deserve that."

"No…you didn't…but living in the past like this isn't good, Adam…it happened and I'm sorry you and Sammie had to go through that…and trust me, if I'd known you guys back than I'd like to think I would have noticed what was up and done something about it. I don't know why the system failed you two. But it did. And it sucks and it hurts but torturing yourself with it isn't doing you or your sister any good."

"You're a cop, Don. Tell me why he did what he did," he begged.

"I don't know why Adam. I don't have the answers you want. The only person who has those answers is your dad and he's dead. You're never going to know why. You just need to deal with and…"

"Deal with it? Deal with the fact that we used to get locked in the basement for a few days with no food or water? Or how he used to take his belt to our bare backs and our asses until we bled? Or how every time we ran away the cops would find us and take us back and not even call CAS to check on us? I'm suppose to just deal with that?"

Flack sighed heavily and shook his head.

"I'm suppose to just deal with the fact that my father was molesting my sister?" Adam blurted out.

So now the truth was out. Flack had heard it with his own ears. The proof he needed to back up the suspicions he had had but never brought up. And his stomach caught in his throat and the most intense feelings of anger and pity overtook him as he stood there, watching Adam Ross break down sobbing in the middle of the snowy alley. It was the alcohol that was bringing it all out of the younger man. There was no way he would have been spilling his guts and his tears if he'd been sober.

And although he'd suspected it. Flack still found himself in the midst of a stunned silence.

"How do I deal with that?" Adam cried. "How? That I let that go on and never did anything about it?"

"You were a little kid," Flack told him. "There was nothing you could have done."

"I could have told somebody. I could have told our mom or a teacher at school."

"Do you know for sure, Adam? Did you see it? Did anything like that happen to you?"

He shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "I never saw it and he never touched me. Ever. But I remember so many nights listening to him going into her room. I never heard anything after that and than a while later she'd come in my room and say that dad had passed out and she needed a place to sleep. I mean, most people would think that was weird. She was close to ten at the time so I was barely six. But she was my sister and she needed me."

"There's nothing weird about it, Adam. It's the way you guys coped with things. Did she ever say anything to you?"

"No," Adam sniffled noisily. "And I never asked her. I was too scared to. I didn't want her to get into any more trouble with our dad. But there was this guy that she kinda dated when she was about fourteen. Before Evan. Chester Lake. He was this really nice Native American guy that lived a few doors down. Dad hated him obviously because he was native. I think Sam may have told him…but I don't know for sure."

"You know where this Lake guy is now?"

Adam shook his head. "I heard he became a cop."

"With the NYPD?"

Adam nodded. "Last I heard he was working out of the 68th precinct in Brooklyn. But I was in university than so he could be anywhere now."

"I'll look him up. See if maybe he remembers Sam and anything she told him."

"What good will it do? Our dad's dead."

"Peace of mind," Flack reasoned.

"You going to tell my sister I told you?"

"It's up to your sister to tell me what happened. I'm not going to go causing any problems between the two of you by saying anything."

"Thanks," Adam said. "I just…I needed to get that all out, you know."

Flack nodded.

"I didn't mean to burden you with all of that, Don. I just…it's been inside for so long and I just needed to tell someone that I trusted….someone that loves my sister and won't do anything to hurt her…because she needed someone like you. Someone strong and reliable and you're good for her and…." Adam broke down again. "She's my sister…."

"It's okay, Adam," Flack reached out and drew the younger man into his arms, one arm around the lab tech's waist, the other on the back of Adam's head as he allowed his brother in law to sob into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry….I feel so stupid…"

"There's nothing to be ashamed about or feel stupid about. You needed to talk and get it out and you did. You feel better that you did?"

Adam nodded. "I just…we never had a normal family…even now with our mom and Sarge so far away…might as well be on the other side of the world…we still don't have anything normal it seems…."

"We're family now, Adam. Me and you. We're connected through your sister and your nephew. You're my brother now, too. And I'll do anything for my brother. Okay? Just remember that. When it comes to you and Sam, there's nothing I wouldn't do. Alright?"

He sniffled noisily and nodded and lifted his head from Flack's shoulder and back away. "Always wanted a brother growing up. But no, I had to have an older sister."

Flack smiled.

"Never thought I'd have a brother at my age," Adam gave a small laugh. "Especially a brother like you. I mean, you're like the massively popular captain of the hockey team that gets whatever girl you want and I'm the introverted, socially awkward mathlete."

"Hey, you managed to score someone like Broussard. That's no easy feat."

Adam smiled and wiped his face with the front of his shirt. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Flack nodded slowly. "I know that feeling. How a woman can just walk into your life and transform everything."

"Pretty surreal, huh?"

"Surreal, overwhelming, frightening. But I wouldn't change a damn thing about it."

"Just take care of her, Don. That's all I'm asking. Her and my nephew. Because she's been through so much and she deserves to be happy. Just take care of her."

Flack smiled and laid a hand on the back of Adam's neck. "That's all I want to do," he said, than led the way towards the exit.

"Thanks," Adam said, as the larger, older man yanked the door open. "For lots of things. Helping me out."

"Anytime, Ross," Flack told him, and followed the lab tech back into the club.

Leaving the frigid night and the secrets behind them.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone of you!! Lurkers, please just give me a shout! Anyone who is enjoying MOB, please review. It really makes my day!!**

**Thanks to:**

**Brrtmclv  
****Hope4sall  
****muchmadness  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****TruLuv  
****GregRox  
****Forest Angel  
****wolfeylady  
****bluehaven4220**


	97. Everything old is new again

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS OR ANY CHARACTERS ASSOCIATED WITH LAW AND ORDER:SVU. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA ROSS.**

**Everything old is new again**

"Confess to me, every secret moment  
Every stolen promise you believed  
Confess to me, all that lies between us  
All that lies between you and me

We are the boxers in the ring  
We are the bells that never sing  
There is a title we can't win no matter  
How hard we might swing

Pictures of you, pictures of me  
Hung upon your wall for the world to see  
Pictures of you, pictures of me  
Remind us all of what we used to be."  
-Pictures of You, The Last Goodnight

* * *

Flack came to with the feel of cold steel pressed against the back of his throbbing head and something sharp sticking in the small of his back. His eyes slowly flickered open. Taking in the harsh fluorescent lights and slowly spinning industrial sized ceiling fan mounted on the ceiling.

Where the hell am I? he thought and glanced to the right, his nose nearly making contact with ragged grey brick. His eyes widened as realization began to sink in and he propped himself up on one elbow and glanced down at the old, decrepit, soiled mattress below him and the rickety, skinny cot that shuddered and groaned with each movement he made.

He sat up quickly. Too quickly. The room promptly started spinning and the ferocious headache only got worse. His stomach wrenched and he fought back nausea as he frantically took in his surroundings.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed when he caught site of the row of metal bars across the room.

"Keep it down over there, Flack," Danny groaned from a fetal position in the far corner. The side of his head against the cool concrete. "I have a tribal war dance going on in my head and my stomach feels like there's a toxic swamp thriving in it."

"Jesus Christ, Messer," the detective clasped his head in both hands. The pain was excruciating. And the more he moved the more he regretted it and longed to just curl back up, crappy mattress and all, and sleep the agony away. "Where the hell are we?"

"In jail," the CSI replied and rolled over onto his back.

"I know that. But what precinct are we in?"

"Central Booking," Danny moaned loudly and whined and rubbed his stomach in slow, smooth circles. "I'm dying…I know it…I wish I was on Hammerback's table right now instead of going through this…last time I swallow the worm in a bottle of tequila."

"It wasn't the worm you ass, it was the full bottle you polished off yourself and all the Crown and Cokes you were pounding back."

"Don't be preaching to me 'Mr Twenty Sixer of JD on the rocks'. You were way more polluted than I was. "

"Whatever," Flack said and stood up, having to reach behind him and lay a hand on the wall to orientate himself and get his balance in check. "How the hell did we get here in the first place? And where the hell are Speed and Adam? I was…"

His sentence was cut short when he took two steps and promptly caught his foot on a prone object on the floor and went down hard face first. Said object roared in agony as all of Flack's weight came crashing down.

"Fuck, Adam!" Flack bellowed when he managed to peel himself off of his soon to be brother in law's back.

He staggered to his feet and stood, hunched over, hands on his thighs and his head swimming as he took in the sight of the lab tech sprawled face first on the cement floor.

"It's okay…" Adam's voice was muffled and pained. "I'm alive…barely…"

"Get your ass up off the floor," Flack said, and grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and hauled up onto his feet.

He steered Adam to the cot and forced him to turn around and sit down. Than frowned at the sight of Adam's split lip and dried blood on his chin.

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" Flack asked. "Adam looks like he's had a run in with a fist and we're locked up in Central Booking. How the fuck did we get here? And where the hell is Speed?"

Danny shrugged and struggled to get up into a sitting position. He leaned back against the wall behind him and put his elbows on his bent knees and his face in his hands. "Maybe they've got him in interrogation torturing him with cattle prods."

"Doesn't tell me how the hell we ended up getting arrested and tossed in a holding cell," Flack snapped. "Or why Adam's face looks like it does. You know what's going to happen to me, Messer? When Sam finds out I'm here? I'm suppose to be getting married in…" he went to consult his watch. It wasn't on his wrist.

Everything he had on his person would have been confiscated by the arresting officers and placed in a personal affects bag and held until release. Which Flack hoped, would be soon. He had been scheduled to work a relatively easy eight hour shift and he was pretty sure he'd been passed out for at least a couple of hours. And seeing as he couldn't remember what time they got hauled in in the first place…..

"We gotta get the hell out of here," Flack announced, and reached into his back pocket. Hoping the uniforms had at least left him some spare change to make his own phone call.

No such luck. But he did find a small piece of paper folded in half and tucked into the corner of his pocket. Frowning, he opened it up.

Call me, Trinity 555-8721.

What in the hell, he thought, feeling sick his stomach at the idea of having another woman's phone number in his possession. If he'd been that drunk that he couldn't remember how he'd gotten tossed in lock up in Central Booking, what else had he done that he couldn't remember? He crumpled the bit of paper and tossed it into the far corner.

"One of you guys wanna tell me what the hell went down last night?" he asked, fixing Danny with a cold glare, than turning and doing the same with Adam. "More specifically why I have another woman's phone number on me when I'm getting married tonight?"

Adam just shrugged.

"I don't remember much," Danny admitted. "Other than the stripper practically shoving her tongue in your ear and trying to jerk you off at the table."

Flack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly and fixed angry blue eyes on his best friend. "Come again?"

"Don't worry, ya didn't do anything stupid with her," Danny assured him. "In a moment of brief sobriety you dumped her on her ass and than Speed took care of things from there. But I never saw her give you her phone number."

"Well some woman named Trinity did," Flack said. "And I swear to God if either of you let me cheat on my fiancee the night before our wedding…"

"We're not damn babysitters," Danny informed him. "And I doubt Speed would have let ya do anything stupid. But let's say, in a couple months you're Johnson has shrivelled up and fallen off, than we'll know for sure, won't we."

"You're just a real goddamn comedian, Mess," Flack snarled, and crossed the room to stand in front of the cot. "Shove over, Ross," he demanded.

"I ain't cuddling with you," Adam argued,

"Move over or I'll sit on you," the detective warned.

Adam grumbled under his breath and slid sideways to make room for his soon to be brother in law. "Someone please just shoot me now," he moaned and stretched out on the cot and put an arm over his eyes.

"Christ," Flack moaned and ran his hands over his weary face. "I feel like I've been over by a damn Mack truck. And I don't know what I've done to my back, but it's killing right above my ass."

"Getting a nightstick in the small of your back will do that to you," Speed commented, as he appeared, a free man, on the other side of the bars. "Look," he said dryly. "It's the three drunk Amigos. Dumb, dumber and dumbest."

"Whose who?" Danny inquired, as he flipped his friend the finger.

"I'd say under the circumstances, you're all pretty well tied for the title of dumbest," Speed replied.

"Where the hell have you been?" Flack asked. "How come your sorry ass isn't here?"

"Because I was sober enough to not get myself tossed in lock up. While you guys slept some of the booze off, I went to the lab, showered, had a nap in the lunch room for a few hours…"

"A few hours!?" Flack bolted to his feet. And immediately regretted it as the room spun once again. "What the hell time is it?"

"Eight forty five," Speed told him. "You're all late for work."

"Who fucking cares at this point in time?" Adam groaned.

"We do," Mac's voice suddenly boomed from beside Speed.

All three looked up and at the furious, disappointed and disgusted faces of Mac Taylor and Stanton Gerrard.

"Oh fuck," Danny said, speaking for them all.

* * *

"So who wants to explain why the hell the three of you are in lock up?" Gerrard bellowed, his hands on his hips as he observed the sorry sight in front of him.

"Honestly, Inspector, we don't even know," Adam bravely admitted.

"Well let Detective Taylor and I fill you morons in," the older man ranted. "As you can imagine, I was shocked when I was woken up in the middle of a sound sleep by the CO and told a prisoner was claiming to be an NYPD Detective Sargent."

"You have anything to say about this, Flack?" Mac asked. "Any explanation as to why you resisted arrest and you're now being held on that plus public intoxication and impersonating a police officer?"

The detective put his face in his hands and shook his head once again.

"With all due respect to the officers," Danny piped up. "Flack told them three times when we got here that he was a cop and they were the ones that didn't believe him. So that's their tough shit."

"We know he told them that, Danny," Mac snapped. "The problem is not one of you had your badges on you to back that claim up. So why don't I just tell the three of you what happened. Unless Adam can remember anything and wants to start the story."

The lab tech shook his head.

"Seems Adam decided it was a smart thing to urinate on the side of a blue and white," Mac told them all. "With the officers still inside."

Flack hid a snicker behind his hands. Danny was unable to hold back the laugh that erupted from him.

"Sorry," the CSI mumbled when he saw the furious look cross Mac's face. "Sorry…."

"The officers went to confront Adam and that's when Flack got into it," Mac continued, as Gerrard paced behind him. "Sticking up for his brother in law so to speak. Only in his drunken state, Flack got a little more verbal and nasty than what was needed and the one of the officers decided to place him under arrest. Only Flack decided not to go gently into that good night…"

"Still didn't warrant a night stick to the small of the back though," Speed spoke up in defence of his friend. "That was a little harsh."

"Danny than decides that he's not letting the officers place Flack under arrest and decides to yank one of the officers off of his friend and toss the uniform onto the snowy sidewalk," Mac continued. "In the meantime, Flack is claiming to be a police officer and spewing profanity that I'm told would make a dozen drunken sailors blush, and in the course of resisting arrest, elbows Adam in the mouth when Adam attempts to intervene on Flack's behalf."

"Idiots," Gerrard declared, as he paced and shook his head.

"The three of you are just damn lucky Stan and I were able to talk the officers out of making the charges stick. Flack, you alone were looking at drunk and disorderly, public intoxication, resisting arrest and impersonating a police officer."

The detective snorted and shook his head. Both in disbelief and utter embarrassment.

"Personally, Taylor, I wouldn't mind seeing them stay in here a couple days," Gerrard said. "Teach them a damn lesson. Go around and embarrass the department like that. You all should be kissing our asses for springing all of you. And be thanking your lucky stars that Chief Sinclair is out of town for the holidays."

Mac turned and motioned for a nearby uniform to join them. "Let them out," he said.

The uniform reluctantly obeyed.

"I want the two of you to go to the lab, clean yourselves up in the locker room and have your asses clocked in before I even get back," Mac ordered Danny and Adam, as the three men slowly emerged from the cell.

"Same goes for you, Flack," Gerrard said. "And I don't want to hear a damn peep out of you today about feeling sick and wanting to leave early. I don't care if you get called out to a damn slaughter house and you vomit from one end of the scene to the other. You stick it out to the bitter end, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, sir," Flack responded.

"You all can pick up your personal effects at the front desk," Mac told them, as he and the inspector stood watching the three 'prisoners' and Speed head off.

"You know what the difference is between friends and best friends, Flack?" Danny curled a brotherly arm around the detective's neck and posed the question when their superiors were out of ear shot.

"What's that, Dan-o?"

"A friend bails you out of jail," the CSI explained. "A best friend sits in the cell next to you and says wasn't that a fucking blast?"

Flack couldn't help but chuckle.

* * *

"How goes it with the happy groom?"

Flack glanced up as Angell's voice permeated his thoughts as he sat at his desk, a pounding head in one hand as he filled out a seemingly endless amount of paper work. It had been three hours since his release from prison and word had travelled fast. He had more smart ass comments about getting himself arrested to avoid getting married than he cared to count. And he knew it was only a matter of time before news trickled back home to his pregnant fiance. He was practically on pins and needles waiting for a phone call from her and the subsequent reaming out that would accompany it.

Bits and pieces regarding the night before were slowly coming to him with each extra large black coffee he consumed. He vaguely remembered leaving Sullivan's and stumbling into the strip club and winding up receiving a lap dance from a stripper whose face he couldn't even recall. At least Speed had come to the rescue over Flack's worry that he had cheated on Samantha. Trinity was just a college girl out for a night on the town with her friends and equally as drunk as Flack was. He'd flirted harmlessly with her at a bodega he and the guys had stopped at so Danny could use the ATM machine. Trinity had tucked her number into his back pocket and felt up his ass before Speed told her to hit the road.

Flack could also remember certain aspects of his conversation outside in the falling snow with a drunk and despondent Adam Ross. And the name of the NYPD cop that Sam had had somewhat of a history with. Who may possibly be the only one that actually knew what her father had done to her. The name, Chester Lake was written down on a piece of memo paper in front of him. All he had to do was type it into the NYPD database and find out where this Lake was and he could pay the unsuspecting cop a little visit.

"It goes, Jess," Flack said with a heavy sigh. "Wish I could say it was a great day…"

"Spending time down in lock up in Central Booking would ruin anyone's mood," she reasoned. "How you feeling now?"

"Like I've been run over by an eighteen wheeler," he admitted. "How's your cases going?"

"They're going," she replied. "I wasn't stopping by for a little boss-employee talk though. Congratulations by the way. On making sargeant. If anyone deserved to move up, it was you."

"Thanks," Flack said. "So what were you stopping by for?"

Angell held out her left hand. Presenting him with a cream coloured envelope graced with both his and Samantha's names on the front in gold ink.

"What's this?" he asked, dropping his pen on his desk and taking the item from her.

"Just a little something for you and Sam. For your wedding. It's not much. But it was heartfelt."

"You didn't have to get us anything, Jess. It wasn't necessary."

"I know…but I wanted to do it. Things have been thawing out lately between Samantha and I and I've been realizing that she's good for you. You're the happiest you've ever been. And I'm really happy for you, Don."

He smiled. "Thank you. And I'm glad you two were able to do the proverbial kiss and make up."

"Sounds more like a dirty little fantasy of yours, Flack," Angell laughed.

He held up the card. "Now or…?"

"Save it until after you say I do. It's for the both of you. I'm sorry I can't make it tonight."

"It's going to be a pretty small crowd," Flack said. "Say, you busy right now?"

"Not really. It's pretty quiet today. Good will and peace towards all men and all that crap I guess. Why?"

"I need you to do me a favour. I had put a gift and a card for Sam in her locker yesterday morning. Only she had all that excitement with the baby and never got to it. And I want her to have it for the wedding. It's important she gets it before."

"Write down the locker number and the combo and I'll be more than happy to take it to her," Angell told him.

Flack snatched a scrap piece of paper from the top drawer of his desk and picked up his pen. "You're a God send," he declared and wrote down the information.

"I try my best," Angell quipped. She noticed the small piece of paper to Flack's right and reached out and pulled it to her to get a better look. "Chester Lake…you're looking for him?"

"You've heard of him?" Flack asked. "He's a uniform as far as I know."

"I know of him. Our paths have crossed a few times on cases. But he hasn't been a uniform for a while. He's a detective. Works with the Special Victim's Unit. Out of the One-Six in lower Manhattan."

"You know if he's still there? When's the last time you saw him?"

"About a month ago. He's a nice guy. Kinda cute, actually. Why are you looking for him?"

"Personal matters," Flack told her and held out the scrap of paper.

"Which means you're not going to tell me," Angell mused.

He smiled and pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up. "Exactly," he said, and snagged his car keys and gun from the top drawer. The latter he slipped into his holster. "Thanks for

doing me that favour, Jess," he said, and hurried off to grab his winter jacket from his locker.

"No problem!" she called after him. "Where are you going?"

"To the Sixteenth Precinct," he replied.

* * *

Flack wasn't sure what he was looking for or why he was even there. He knew that the proper course of action would be to either confront Samantha about what had happened to her at the hands of her father, or to simply sit back and wait for her to open up to him about it. Both those scenarios carried some form of concern. Confronting her would only cause her significant stress and anxiety. Two things he was desperate to avoid. And the fear if he sat back and waited for her to tell him was that she would never do it. She would hold it inside and let it eat at her.

He needed to know the truth. He needed someone to look him in the eye and confirm his suspicions. And he was hoping that Chester Lake would be able to do that.

As he found his way into the relatively calm, quiet bullpen of the precinct, Flack now realized he had no idea who he was looking for. And that despite Angell pointing him in the right direction, he really should have looked up the guy's picture in the database. He racked his brain trying to remember what Adam had told him about this Lake character. Something about him being Native American and growing up a few doors away and….

All the info was just running into each other. He still couldn't remember being in a confrontation with the cops and being tossed into lock up. So it seemed useless to even attempt to recall a conversation with the drunk, rambling lab tech.

He had only gotten three feet into the room when a detective approached him with a concerned, curious look on her face. It was restricted access only. He had had to show his badge and employee ID before he'd even been allowed in the building. And now this cop - tall for a woman, willowy figure and chin length brown hair and brown eyes- looked like she was primed and ready for a confrontation.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He had his badge out before the last word escaped from her lips. "I'm Detective Don Flack," he said. "I work homicide out of the one-two."

Her hands were on her hips, her head cocked to the side as she regarded him. "You were the cop caught up in that bomb explosion a couple years back in Greenwich."

Flack nodded.

"I'm Detective Olivia Benson," she offered a hand. "What brings you to Special Victims?"

"I'm here to see one of your guys."

"And that would be?"

"Chester Lake. He around?"

"Is he expecting you?"

"It's an unexpected visit," Flack told her. "That a problem?"

"Hey, just making conversation. Not to mention we usually come to you guys when there's a problem with a case."

"Is he here or not?" Flack asked.

Benson nodded. "Second desk near the back left corner."

"Thanks," Flack said, and unbuttoned his jacket and took off his gloves and shoved them in the coat pockets as he headed for the back of the bullpen.

He looked younger than what he was. By first glance, Flack would have pegged the kid sitting behind the standard metal desk, immersed in a mountain of paperwork, at no older than thirty. Short, dark hair. Well built in a black thermal style long sleeve shirt. He wondered what the guy had looked like sixteen years ago. What Sam had found so appealing about him.

"Detective Chester Lake?" he asked, standing at the side of the desk.

Lake glanced up at the sound of the gruff, Queens accent.

Flack showed his badge. "Detective Don Flack. Homicide. Got a minute?"

"Depends," he replied. "I'm not handling any cases at the moment that involve working side by side with homicide. So what are you here for?"

"Personal business," Flack told him. "You know a Samantha Ross? Grew up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn? Has a younger brother named Adam?"

"Sammie Ross? Yeah…" a slow smile spread across his face, fond recollection made his dark eyes twinkle. "I moved in a few doors down from them with my foster family when I was just a kid. I dated her when I was sixteen and she was fourteen. But I haven't seen her in years. Last time I saw her or her brother, their mom had just gotten re-married and the whole family was taking off to Arizona. Why? What's this about? Something happen to her?"

"Samantha Ross has been back in New York City for a while now," Flack told him. "She works for the department. As a crime scene investigator."

"No kidding…nice to hear she made something of herself. I always wondered over the years what happened to her. So you're friends with her or something?"

"She's my fiancee. We're getting married. Tonight."

"Congratulations. And you're here because…"

"Her brother Adam gave me your name. Me and him got to talking last night. And he told me that you know some things. About their father."

Lake nodded and reached for the bottle of water sitting next to his computer and took a sip. "She and Adam were bashed around pretty good when they were kids. No one was sorry to see that sonofabitch get it."

"Get it?"

"Yeah…guess some guys he owned money to came to the house and tore the place apart and pummelled him to death. Thank God his wife and kids weren't there or it would have been a lot worse."

You learn something new every day, Flack thought. "The abuse was a lot worse than you're letting on. I know that. And I also know that Samantha told you other things. More personal things. About her and her father."

Lake didn't respond.

"You work in SVU," Flack said. "You hear stuff like it all the time. I think you know what I'm getting at."

Lake nodded.

"I need to know," Flack told him. "I need to know what happened to her and you're the only one that can tell me."

The detective sighed and finished off his water and stood up and tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can.

"Let's go somewhere more private," Lake suggested.

* * *

They grabbed two coffees from a vending machine. The brew tasted, and looked like, sludge, but it was piping hot and Flack was taking anything he could get that day. Anything that could remotely flush any remaining alcohol from his system, magically cure his pounding headache and make him feel just the least bit human again.

Lake led them into one of the quiet rooms the precinct used for when detectives delivered bad news to family members. He closed the door behind them and hit a switch on the wall that both turned on the interior lights, and the small red light mounted at the top of the door on the outside that let others know the room was being occupied.

Flack slipped out of his winter jacket and draped it over one of the chairs before taking a seat in it.

Lake joined him. Sitting across from the homicide detective in a small beige fabric love seat that had obviously seen better days. "So how did you exactly hear about me?" he asked, as he slapped two packages of sugar against the palm of his hand.

"Adam Ross told me about you," Flack replied.

"Just out of the blue?"

"It's a long story. But he told me that you and Samantha were close."

Lake tore open the packets and dumped the sugar into his coffee. Using a plastic stir stick to mix everything together. "Samantha and I dated. If you want to call it that."

"What kind of dated?"

"I was sixteen, she was fourteen. She wasn't allowed to date until she was sixteen. Daddy's rule apparently. What it really was was that she wasn't allowed to date me. Because I wasn't white."

"She told you that?"

Lake shook his head. "Her old man used to toss insults around. I just figured it out. So we snuck around. Hung out a lot. Stuff like that."

Flack didn't need to, or want to, know what 'stuff' meant. He wasn't stupid and could put two and two together. But he did wonder why Sam had told him that the first and only guy she'd slept with before Zack was Evan Lucerno.

"You sleep with her?" Flack asked, the words escaping his lips before he had a chance to stop them.

Lake blinked. "Does that matter?" he replied with a question of his own. "I mean, it was a long time ago. Seventeen years ago. We were just kids. What does it matter now?"

"It matters to me," Flack said.

"Than maybe you should be asking her about it. Because I don't really feel comfortable telling you something like that. Especially if it would cause her problems."

"It's not going to cause her problems," Flack assured the other detective. "I just want to know."

Lake sighed and nodded slowly. "We never had sex," he said. "Does it make you feel better to hear that?"

"Why didn't you? Because neither of you wanted to or…"

"Look," Lake leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Like I said, it was a long time ago. And what went on between Sam and I…that's our business and I don't see how that affects you in the slightest. We didn't have sex and that's really all you need to know."

"It's a simple question, detective."

"We didn't have sex because she didn't feel comfortable. We tried. A few times. It never happened."

"You weren't pissed off that she kept leading you down the garden path and than cutting you off?"

"No. Because unlike most guys, and maybe this doesn't, or does, apply to present company, I don't force myself on women and I don't get angry when things don't go my way. She wasn't comfortable. She was afraid. And I wasn't going to make things worse by making her do anything she didn't want to."

"What was she afraid of?" asked Flack.

"Is this an interrogation, detective? Because this sounds a lot like an interrogation. You came here to talk to me. Looking for my help. And you sit here asking me questions like I committed some crime. So either just come right out and ask what you came here to ask or this talk is over."

"Did Samantha ever tell you that she was being molested by her father?" Flack blurted out.

Lake stared at the other man. Unblinking. Showing no emotion.

"Is that the reason why she didn't want to have sex with you?" Flack continued. "Or am I way off base? Because I really need to know what went on it that house. And I think you're the only person that can tell me."

"Samantha can tell you. Why don't you ask her? You're marrying her. You should be able to ask her stuff like this."

"It's complicated," Flack said. "And that's why I'm here. Because I can't ask her, for personal reasons, at this time and Adam told me that you were probably the only person that knew what happened to her. And I need some kind of closure with this. I need the proof to back up the suspicions that I have. And you're the only one that can help me out with that."

Lake nodded slowly and sipped his coffee.

"Help me out here," Flack implored. "Tell me what you know so that I can deal with this properly. 'Cause I can't just go into my marriage assuming it happened, confront her on it and than have her tell me I'm pissing up the wrong tree. Would you want to just go in guns blazing, assuming something like that?"

"Of course not. But I also don't know if I should be the one telling you this. I don't even know you. You come in here, to my work, and start asking me questions about a girl that I cared about and dated a long time ago, someone I haven't seen in years, and you expect me to just hand out information like that?"

"I expect you to help me out. Help Samantha out. She's going to be my wife and I need to know what happened to her. Would you keep this from a family member of one of your victims?"

"No. But this isn't about work. This is personal."

"Look," Flack sighed and ran his hands over his face. "I need your help. Okay? I wouldn't have come here if I didn't."

Lake saw the haunted, concerned expression that took over the other man's face and eyes. And realized that in a sense, the issue was related to his job. And that maybe, what had gone down years ago in that filthy, run down Brooklyn townhouse had inadvertently led him to the job he now did.

"She told me that her father had abused her," he told Flack. "Sexually. When we tried doing things and she got scared, she told me what had happened to her."

"And?" Flack asked, feeling both rage and utter disgust boiling in the pit of his stomach. He had the truth. And it was damn painful.

"And what? That's what she told me."

"She say when it happened?"

"She said that she was young when it started. Lasted a few years."

Flack snorted and shook his head. He felt sick. Horrified. Angry. Mostly that it had ever happened to his wife, and because it had gone on for so long and no one had ever done a damn thing about it. Her mother had been in the same house. And Flack found it hard to believe that her mother had never suspected what was going on.

"I wish that I didn't have to tell you all of this," Lake said, his soft voice full of regret.

"Me, too," Flack agreed, and put his face in his hands.

Several minutes passed before he gathered himself and removed his hands and reached for the cup of coffee resting on the small coffee table between him and the other detective. He took a long sip, grimacing slightly at the taste. But it was a hell of a lot better than the taste that had been left behind by Chester Lake's admission.

"No one ever did anything?" Flack asked.

"No one knew but me," Lake replied. "And I promised her I'd never tell anyone. And when her father died, so did the secret. It was over and that's the way she wanted it. Than they left for Arizona about eight months later and I never saw or heard from her again."

"You know exactly what happened to her father?"

"No. All I know is that one of the neighbours called the cops 'cause they heard a huge ruckus at the house and when the badges showed up, the perps were gone and Frank McEniry was dead."

Flack arched an eyebrow. "Whose Frank McEniry?"

"Sam's dad," Lake replied.

"Wait a second…if his last name was McEniry…"

"Sam's mom and dad were never married. She wasn't with him when Sam was born and she gave Sam her last name. Ross. And when Adam came along, he was given the last name McEniry. After his dad."

Jesus Christ, Flack thought. What else am I going to find out? Merry Fucking Christmas.

"Well he goes by Ross," he told Lake.

"Musta changed his name after his father died and they all went to Arizona. All I know is that in school and up until they left, he was Adam McEniry."

Flack sighed heavily. "I can't believe this…"

"It's just a last name," Lake reasoned. "Maybe Adam wanted no ties whatsoever to his dad and decided to change his name. Nothing wrong with that."

"No…there's not….but to find all of this out the day of my wedding? I didn't know her parents were never married or that she and her brother had different last names. I didn't even know that her father was murdered."

"It was a long time ago," Lake stressed. "And does finding any of that out change how you feel about her or make you not want to marry her?"

"Of course not," Flack answered quickly. And defensively.

"What happened to Sam…it was horrible. I don't wish that on anyone. And I'm sorry you had to find all of this out through me, but don't hold it against her because she didn't tell you herself. It's nothing personal against you. It probably just hurts too damn much to relive it. Or she's just simply moved on and doesn't want the burden of it all affecting your guys' relationship. 'Cause if it doesn't change how you feel, than really, it's all water under the bridge in the grand scheme of things, isn't it."

Flack nodded.

Lake's cell , clipped to the front pocket of his jeans, beeped noisily. He stood up and unclipped the phone to check the caller ID. "Will you excuse me for a minute?" he asked Flack.

"Of course," Flack said, and watched as the other detective walked out of the room.

Sighing heavily, he rubbed firmly at his temples with his finger tips. He wasn't sure what was making him feel so sick. The outrageous amount of alcohol he'd consumed the night before, learning about Sam's first ever boyfriend, or being served up a platter full of surprising revelations.

* * *

The door clicked open softly and Lake stuck his head in.

"I gotta call," he said apologetically.

"I know how that is," Flack assured him and stood up and gathered his coat. "Half the time I can't find five minutes to myself. I think this was the longest break I've had in a long while."

"No rest for the weary," Lake said. "I'll walk you out."

Flack slipped into his winter jacket and headed for the door. The two men walked side by side down the dimly lit corridor and back into the bullpen. Flack noticed Detective Benson, waiting by Lake's desk. She was with another cop- tall, broad shouldered, cropped dark hair- and they were watching their colleague and the homicide detective intently.

"All kinds of rumours gonna go around to why I was here," Flack said with a smirk.

Lake glanced back at his fellow officers watching them. "Naw…it's all good. And if they ask, I'll just say what it was. Something personal. So Sammie's been back in New York for a while now?"

"Since March."

"And you two met through work?" he asked, as they paused by the door.

Flack nodded. "Things happened pretty quick with us. We're expecting a baby, too. Early February."

"Congratulations. On both the wedding and the baby. Can't say I'm really surprised. Sam never believed in doing things slowly or half assed. Just her personality."

"Thanks. For taking the time to talk to me. I really needed to hear that from you."

"I'm sorry I had to dump so much on you at once, though. I feel bad about that."

"It happens," Flack said as he buttoned his coat. "I've had to deliver a lot worse news. And I'm sure you've had to, too."

Lake nodded in agreement. "Piece of advice…if I may be so bold to give you one."

"By all means."

"The one thing I've learned by doing this job, is that most victims of this type of thing…molestation…they will eventually tell someone. And with you being her husband and having a family with you, I know for a fact that Samantha will tell you. When she's ready. I know you're probably just dying to go to her with all of this, but it's better, in the long run, if you let her come to you. You bringing it up, forcing it on her…it's only going to feel like she's being re-victimized. And I don't think that's what you want out of this."

Flack shook his head.

"Just a little something I've learned," Lake said. "And if you end up telling her we met, say you just mentioned our paths crossed on a case and we got to talking and somehow we got onto her, tell her that I'm happy for her and maybe one day, we'll see each other again. Catch up."

"I'll definitely do that," Flack told him.

"And if you ever need anything, I don't know, if you guys ever need someone to talk to about all this, just give me a call," Lake reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. From which he removed a business card that he held out to Flack.

"Thanks for your help," the homicide detective said, taking the card and slipping it into his coat pocket.

"Glad I had what you needed. It was nice meeting you," Lake offered a hand.

"You too," Flack said, shaking the other man's hand before pushing his way through the door.

"Hey," Lake called out to him. "Merry Christmas."

"You, too," Flack said with a smile and headed down the stairs.

* * *

Angell had stayed for an hour. Sam had been surprised to find the pretty detective on her doorstep on Christmas Eve. And even more surprised to find out that Angell had been sent on a mission. Now, after sitting around talking and gossiping and giggling at the kitchen table over tea and cookies, Angell had gone to finish the rest of her shift and Sam was left alone, relaxing on the couch and attempting to calm her tattered nerves. After months of waiting and anticipation, the time had finally arrived. In less than eight hours she was going to be married to the man of her dreams. A man that a year ago had never existed outside of stories her brother would tell her about his co-workers. Never in a million years did she expect to find herself in New York City and falling in love with someone. Or embarking on a whole new life.

And while it was exciting and exhilarating, it was also as scary as all hell. This was forever. Once those words were exchanged and those rings were slipped on their fingers and the papers were signed, she became someone's wife. She had no plans on ever being with another person for as long as she lived. Once she was his and he was hers, that was it. There would be no one else. And she didn't want there to be. It was a huge step. One that she had sworn she'd never take after calling off her wedding to Zack. That had been her one shot at happiness. At happily ever after. And she'd been betrayed and hurt an she swore no man would ever affect her that deeply.

But fate had other plans. Zack and the agony he'd brought with him had happened for a reason. It had brought her back to her birth place and allowed her to meet someone that had shown her that not all men were bad.

It was the one thing she was thankful to Zack for. He'd drove her away. Into someone else's arms. And it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her.

She picked up the soft pink envelope that rested on the couch beside her. Alongside of it was a blue velvet box. She'd opened the gift first. Usually she was the card first kind of girl, but something told that maybe she should do things a little ass backwards that day. She'd cried when she'd opened that little gift and saw a beautiful pair of white gold and diamond and hoop earrings. And if jewellery could make her cry, she could only imagine what the card held in store for her.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she tore open the envelope and pulled out the simple cream coloured card with the simple words To my Wife on Our Wedding Day printed across it in deep purple scroll writing. Inside was a small, short pre-printed verse. And a handwritten note that took up the inside front cover.

_Samantha,_

_I'm not good at this kind of thing. I'm usually not the kind of guy that runs out of things to say, but for once, I am at a loss for words. These kinds of words, anyway. So I decided that the best thing to do is to just speak from the heart. Even if I do sound like an idiot while doing it. _

_Before I met you, I never imagined that I'd ever find someone that I'd love enough to marry and have a family with. Or someone that I would trust enough to give all of myself to. I guess that I was selfish. I didn't want to take the time and energy I knew needed to go into a relationship to make it successful. I wasn't ready to give up the way I was. The way I was used to being. And than I met you._

_You changed me. For the better. And despite all the hard times and the fights we've had, there's not one second that I've ever regretted being with you and falling in love with you. And I know you're probably rolling your eyes at that and calling me corny, but it's true. I loved you the moment I saw you and I will always love you. You made happier than I ever thought possible. I am so proud that I'm going to be able to call you my wife. Well, legally, that is. You've given me the two most precious gifts I've ever received. Yourself and my son. And there are no words or ways, to ever thank you enough._

_I just hope that I am able to love you and make you happy even half as much as you have loved me and made me happy. _

_Every day, I thank God for the day you born._

_Love, me_

Tears were spilling down her cheeks before she even reached the last line. No one had ever said those kinds of things to her or made her feel the way that those words did. They were honest and heartfelt and stunningly beautiful. And it meant more to her than any gift no matter how big or small.

She had his heart. And nothing else mattered.

* * *

Danny finished doing up his solid black tie and tightened it and smoothed it down. It had been a long time since he'd actually worn a suit and tie and he'd gone with just a simple black suit with faint pinstripes and a crisp charcoal grey shirt and new black dress shoes. He'd never been the suit kind of guy. Even at work, he was the one to wear jeans and casual shirts. Usually untucked or more than often wrinkled. But as the best man, he had gone out and bought something special when he realized nothing he owned seemed right for the occasion.

It was quarter after eight in the evening. When it had become apparent their shifts were stretching longer than they anticipated, Danny had whipped open to grab that evening's wardrobe, and had stopped into the barber to get his hair clipped close to his head and a shave. Flack had been smart enough to leave his change of clothes in his truck. But had also take the time to get his hair cut. It had been getting long and one thing Sam had openly requested was that he get a hair cut. It reminded Danny of when he'd come back to work following the beating in the warehouse and discovered not only did Flack seem to have more grey hair with each passing day, but that his friend was sporting his hair shorter than Danny had ever seen it before.

And that it didn't look half bad. Not that Danny looked at his best friend that way.

"You nervous?" Danny now asked, as Flack attempted to do up his own tie beside him.

For someone that wore a suit and tie to work every day, he was having a hell of a time handling dressing himself. Danny could see how badly the detective's hands were trembling.

"Not really," Flack replied, than swore loudly when for the fifth time, the tie didn't do up as he had wanted it to.

"Here," Danny stepped in front of him and took over. Brushing Flack's hands away and attending to the tie himself. "Take it easy, Flack," he said. "You'd think you were getting married or something."

The detective managed a grin.

"It's normal, you know," Danny said. "To be scared."

"I'm not scared," Flack argued.

Danny arched an eyebrow,

Flack sighed. "I'm scared," he conceded.

"What are you scared about?"

"I don't know…about everything. I'm scared that she's going to stand me up."

"Never gonna happen, alright? When I was there she was getting ready and just as nervous and freaked out as you. She's worried you're not going to show up. And I told her that even if I have to drag your ass there, you'll be at the courthouse."

"I'm scared that she's going to regret marrying me. That one day she's going to wake up and realize a cop's wife is not the life she wants."

"She's a cop, too, Don. And she accepts your job and that sometimes it comes before she does. She wouldn't be marrying you if she didn't."

"Most of all, I'm scared of being a fuck up as a husband. And as a father."

"Listen to me," Danny said, as he finished with the tie and smoothed down the lapels on Flack's black suit jacket. "She loves you. Regardless of the bullshit you bring to the table or the issues you cause her. She loves you and to her, you'll be the greatest husband and father in the world. She's got your back no matter what. You'll do right by her. And your kid. Okay?"

Flack sighed and nodded.

"You aren't thinking about bailing are you?"

"What? No. That's the last thing on my mind, Danny. I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. This is right. This is forever. And that's a scary thought. It being forever."

"One day at a time, Flack. One day at a time. Don't think too far ahead. Because so many things can happen. Each and every day we have to live like it's our last. Forever is a good thing. And I hope that you and Sam get that. Or as close to it as possible."

He smiled. "I hope so, too," he said.

Danny grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulders. "You ready? I got the ring and the licence so it's all good. You good to go?"

Flack looked at himself one last time in the mirror. Dressed in a brand new black suit and shoes, a soft blue shirt and a black, silver and peacock blue stripped tie.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"I'm good," he told his best friend.

"Alright," Danny said with a nod and laid a supportive hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Than let's go and get you married."

**Okay, I know I said that the wedding was this chapter. Well the muse had other ideas and wanted me to follow up on some things.**

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! And thanks to the lurkers! I know there's a lot of you! I appreciate all of you and it makes my day to get your reviews. Now if only I got alerted about them. LOL. Seems as if there's an issue with some of the accounts and we're not getting alerts. But please keep reviewing! It's your wonderful feedback that keeps this story going!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall  
****Brrtmclv  
****Forest Angel  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****muchmadness  
****TruLuv  
****Bluehaven4220  
****GregRox  
****wolfeylady**


	98. At last

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK. YES. IT'S OFFICIAL FOLKS. SHE'S A FLACK.**

**A/N: I am not very good at writing weddings. Just a warning. I actually avoid writing them like the plague. So I warn you all now, it might not be the greatest wedding ever. Enjoy!**

* * *

**At last**

"Found what its like to hurt selfishly  
Scared to give of me  
Afraid to just believe  
I was in a jealous, insecure, pathetic place  
Stumbled through the mess that I have made  
Finally got out of my own way  
I've finally started living for today  
I finally know that I needed to grow  
And finally my mate has met my soul  
Finally  
Now my destiny can begin  
Though we will have our differences  
Something strange and new is happening  
Finally  
Now my life doesn't seem so bad  
It's the best that I've ever had  
Gave my love to him finally."  
-Finally, Fergie

* * *

Adam paced outside of the women's restroom. His hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. He was sweating. Profusely. He felt as if he was sweltering in his well tailored black suit. That the collar of his deep burgundy shirt was coming dangerously close to collapsing his trachea and that his black and burgundy patterned tie felt as if it weighed a ton as it sat on his chest. Exaggeration, maybe. But he had honestly never been so nervous in his entire life. And he wasn't even the one getting married.

The third floor of the courthouse was in utter silence. Down the hall, a small group of people had converged in the spacious office of Superior Court Judge Anthony Frank. Flack's go to guy for warrants. Frank was an insomniac with other forty years on the bench. Short and round with snow white hair and thick, black framed glasses and a strong Bronx accent. Any other cop requesting the good judge to hold a wedding in his chambers at nine at night on Christmas Eve would have been told to go take a leap off of the Brooklyn Bridge. Frank had a soft spot for Flack Jr. Mostly because Frank remembered Flack Sr making many a trip to his offices looking for warrants and had always been friendly and professional. They had struck up an amicable friendship based on mutual trust and respect. Frank could even recall the detective coming into his office with cigars, announcing that his wife had just given birth to a baby boy that bore his father's name and likeness.

But it wasn't the only thing that had secured Flack a private wedding in the judge's chambers on Christmas Eve. It hadn't hurt that the detective had unknowingly stumbled on some dirt that involved his father's old friend. Flack didn't mention specifics. All he told people who questioned his ability to score a wedding ceremony after hours the night before Christmas was that he had enough on the judge to have him disbarred. And that he had approached Frank about it months before and had agreed, after much begging and pleading on the other man's part, to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't anything illegal. But it was damn humiliating and marriage ending.

Adam felt sick to his stomach. He'd faced a lot of emotional, trying times, but nothing could compare to what he was now going through. He felt as if he was standing inside of a sauna and in fear of passing out from heat stroke. He journeyed over to the water fountain several feet away and took a long, ice cold drink. Hoping it would cool down his dangerously heated body before it would explode.

The door to the washroom swung open and Carmen stepped out. Looking lovely in a simple hunter green wrap style dress with a modest neckline and black pumps. Her hair up in a graceful bun and slight makeup gracing her smooth features. If he had never met Gus, and Carmen had never hooked up with Speed, and if Adam had have been able to get up the courage to do so, he more than likely would have attempted to get together with his sister's best friend. Carmen was everything any guy could ever want in a woman. Phenomenally attractive, insanely intelligent, fiercely loyal. But there was one, crucial, important thing she wasn't.

She wasn't Gus. And Gus was his entire existence.

"Very nice," Carmen commented, giving an appreciative nod as she joined Adam in the hallway. "You clean up pretty damn good, Mr Ross."

He gave a bashful grin. "You don't look so bad yourself," he complimented. "So where's my sister? She didn't attempt to sneak out the window or anything did she?"

"Not yet," Carmen replied, only half joking. "She's really nervous. Says she's not ready to come out yet. And she's been crying since we left the apartment."

"Why?" Adam asked in concern.

"Nerves. We all know she loves Flack and would go to the ends of the earth to be with him. She's having his baby for God sakes. But the prospect of being a wife and spending the rest of your life with someone, that's pretty damn terrifying. Even when you do love someone to death."

Adam checked his watch and sighed. "It's five minutes to nine, Carmen. The judge already said that he wants everything wrapped up and all of us out of here by nine thirty. And the ceremony supposedly takes about twenty minutes. So if she's not of there soon, chances are, he'll pull the plug on the whole thing."

"Than maybe you should get in there and talk to her. See if you can calm her down a bit," Carmen suggested. "Because I may be her best friend, but there's no one in this world, outside of Don, that she trusts more than you. She needs her brother, Adam."

He sighed heavily. "But what do I say to her? I'm not good at this kind of thing. Giving out advice. It's not me. Sam's usually the one handing it to me and calming me down. What do I say to her?"

"Tell her that you don't exactly know what to say to her and take it from there. If anyone can get her to get her shit together, short of going down the hall and getting Flack to go in and get her, it's you."

Adam nodded. "And if I can't get through to her?"

"Than you'll have a two hundred plus pound homicide detective on your ass for not doing a better job."

The lab tech gulped noisily. "Wish me luck," he said as he headed for the washroom.

* * *

She was standing at the sink, her hands firmly planted on the ledge and her eyes closed and her chin tucked into her chest. Trying her best to quell the nausea that knawed at her stomach and made her head pound relentlessly. Her arms and her legs trembled. She was nervous and scared. Nervous because her entire life lay waiting for her. And scared because she feared that one day he would wake up and look at her and realized she wasn't the woman he thought she was. That he'd regret ever meeting her and taking on all the issues and baggage that she brought to the table. Scared and worried that the things in her past that she had yet to tell him would come back and bite her in the ass and drive him away.

Not once was she scared that she was making the wrong decision. Nothing that felt that good and perfect could be wrong. He was everything that she had ever wanted. Charming and trustworthy. Solid and dependable. Tough as nails when he needed to be and compassionate and sensitive and loving when she needed and wanted it the most. He was her best friend. The one person she could give herself wholly and completely to and not regret it. She had been through sheer hell in the past and had still gotten to this moment. She had learned to love someone unconditionally and that it was possible that someone could love her the same way. That not all men were evil bastards out to destroy everything good in their lives.

Don Flack was the best thing that had ever happened to her. There was no doubt about it. And she was scared that she wouldn't be everything he wanted. That she'd be a terrible wife and an even worse mother. Because that was all she knew. How to disappoint people.

She heard the door swing open behind her and turned to face the visitor. Expecting Carmen or even Gus or Erica. And smiling brightly through a veil of threatening tears as her baby brother stepped into the room.

"Wow," Adam said, clearly taken back by what he saw before him.

Of how his older sister looked standing there before him. In a cream coloured ankle length satin skirt and a delicate lace empire waist top with a scooped neckline with long, Victorian style bell sleeves and a satin camisole underneath. Her hair pushed back from her face and held in place by a simple beaded headband.

"What?" Sam asked, feeling embarrassed by the way he was staring at her when she felt so awkward and uncomfortable at seven and a half months pregnant. "I know…I'm a beached whale."

"No," Adam shook his head vigorously. "You're not. You're…you look beautiful, Sammie. More beautiful than I've ever seen you."

She smiled and crossed the bathroom and stood in front of him. "You look pretty sharp yourself, little Peanut," she said, and dusted down his lapels and tightened and straightened his tie. "What happened to your lip?" she asked.

"Just some drunken escapades," he replied. "Nothing major. I just was acting a little crazy and caught an elbow in the mouth. No biggie."

She reached up and combed her fingers affectionately through his thick hair. It had been thinned out and shortened considerably and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

"Very handsome," she gushed, and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Now do you want to tell me what you're doing in the girls bathroom?"

"It's almost nine o'clock," he told her. "Wedding is scheduled for nine. You're wedding. You're suppose to be getting married tonight. In like two minutes. And Flack's down there and he's waiting for you and I'm pretty sure that he's starting to freak out that you're never going to show up. I mean, you can't just hide out in the bathroom all night. Can you?"

"Take a breath, Adam. You would think that you're the one getting married."

"I just think that we should get this show on the road, you know? Because there's a man down the hall that loves you and is willing to put up with you and deal with your crazy bullshit for the rest of his life and if you ask me, he deserves a damn medal of valour just for that alone. So don't do this to him. Don't walk away from him and when you've gotten this far."

"Adam, no one is walking away from anyone. I just…I need some time. Collect myself. Get myself together. This is a huge step."

"It was a huge step when you found out you were pregnant with his baby and accepted an engagement ring from him," he argued. "You entered into a life with him the minute you guys conceived that baby. Whether you're married to him or not, he's part of your life. At least for the next eighteen years."

"I accepted his proposal because I love him. Because I want to spend forever with him."

"So than why are you hiding out in the bathroom?" Adam asked. "You should be down the hall becoming his wife. Taking his name. For better or worse, in sickness and in health and do death do you part and all of that. I mean, you want to marry him, don't you? Because if you don't than just say the word and I will take you out of here right now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I do want to marry him, Adam. I wouldn't be here if I didn't," she said.

"Than get out there and go to him and show him you want to be with him instead of standing in here arguing with me! Because there shouldn't be any second thoughts. You love him and he loves you and that's that."

"It's not that simple, Adam. It really isn't. I'm scared."

"Of what? Tell me what you're scared of so I can get you out of here and down the hall to get married."

"I'm scared of being like mom and dad," she said. "That things will go really, really bad and neither of us will know how to get out."

"Don's not like dad. Far from it. And the way mom was back than…you're nothing like her, Sammie. You guys have so much more than mom and dad did. Love and respect and acceptance just to name a few. And if you could only see yourself the way I see you maybe you'd realize that it's time to stop knocking yourself down and…"

"Adam, it's okay," she said, laying a hand on his arm to get him to calm down a bit.

"Just let me finish. I need to finish what I have to say or I may never say it," he snapped. "You're my sister, Samantha. We went through hell together and you've been my best friend and my confidant all my life. You protected me and I was never able to give you that back. What dad did to you…it was wrong and I should have stopped him. And I didn't and I feel horrible for that."

"Adam…"

He held his hand up to silence her. "We made it through all of that together, Sammie. We can make it through anything. And I was so proud of you that you made something out of your life and didn't let our past drag you down. But I have never, ever been as proud of you as I am right now to see you getting ready to become a wife and pretty soon a mother."

She blinked. Taking back by the conviction in his voice and the tears in his eyes.

"You're my sister," Adam said and choked up. "And I love you more than I could ever tell you. And I admire you and respect you and I know that you'll have a long, amazing life with Flack. He loves you. No matter what. And if you ask me, you're damn lucky to have him. Because not many guys would put up with what you bring to the table. So please, cut the guy some slack and let me take you down there and get you married to him."

She smiled, her own tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Me and you, Sammie," Adam said and offered his hand. "Just like it was when we were kids. Me and you. I'll never let you fall. I'll always be here when you need me. You know that, right?"

Sam nodded and curled her fingers around his hand. "Let's go, Peanut," she said. "It's time to give me away."

"I'm not giving you away," he told her. "I'm just lending you to him. Letting him borrow you for awhile."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed her brother's cheek softly. "Than let's get to it than," she said.

* * *

It was ten minutes after nine when Samantha and Adam finally stepped through the door and into the judge's chambers. Danny, standing to Flack's right, heard his friend take a shaky breath and saw the emotion that sparkled in those blue eyes and played on his face a she watched the love of his wife, his future, enter the room on the arm of her brother.

Danny reached out and laid a comforting, supportive hand on his best friend's shoulder. Saw the way that these two people, although both nervous and anxious and even a little bit scared, locked eyes and smiled lovingly at one another. And from that moment, no one existed outside of the two of them.

"Who gives this woman away?" Judge Frank, in his black robe and white collar asked.

"I do," Adam replied shakily. He stepped away from his sister and kissed both of her cheeks softly before turning to Flack and offering his hand.

The detective smiled and warmly shook the hand offered to him.

"Just take care of her," Adam implored. "It's all I ask."

"It's all I want to do," Flack assured him.

The lab tech nodded and gave a small smile and departed to where Gus was standing on the sidelines with Speed and Erica. Gus smiled lovingly at her fiance and wrapped her arm around his waist and kissed his cheek softly.

"You look beautiful," Flack said to Sam, as he took her hand tightly in his and fought the urge to grab her and kiss her right there and than.

She beamed. Already fighting back tears. "Are you nervous?" she asked.

"A bit…do I look nervous?"

"A bit," she told him.

He smiled and brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

"Dearly beloved," the judge began, reading from a leather bound ledger in his hands. It had been a long time since he had preformed a wedding and needed as much help as he could get. "We are here tonight, on this holy night, to witness the marriage of Samantha Marie Ross and Donald Joseph Flack Jr. If there is anyone here who sees just cause to why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Danny made it a point to cast a glance at all the guests and give them each glare that meant if they even tried something stupid, they'd have him to deal with. When a moment past without a peep from anyone, he gave a satisfied nod and looked back at the judge.

"I got it under control," he said, causing Flack to give a small laugh a slight giggle to erupt from Sam.

"Samantha and Donald, have you both come here freely and without reservation? With no doubt in your hearts or minds?" Judge Frank asked.

"We have," they answered in unison. Flack broke out in a huge grin and Sam gave another nervous laugh.

"I understand that a Miss Broussard has something she'd like to read," the judge said.

Gus nodded and stepped up beside Carmen, unfolding a small piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand.

"It's just a little something that I have always loved and makes me think of Samantha and Flack…I mean Don…and how they feel about each other," she said in her Louisiana accent. "Love is patient, love is kind," she began, reading from the paper. "It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

Danny cleared his throat noisily. Clearly touched by the words. Carmen wiped away a tear before it managed to escape down her cheek and ruin her makeup.

Gus smiled warmly at Sam and Flack and than retreated back to her place.

"If the two of you will turn to each other and join hands," the elderly judge instructed.

Flack took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly before turning to face his soon to be wife and taking both of her hands in his.

"Do you Donald take Samantha to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to cherish and to love? From this day forward, forsaking all others? Until you are only separated by death?"

He smiled lovingly as the woman before him. "I do," he replied confidently.

"And do you Samantha, take Donald to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, to cherish and to love? From this day forward forsaking all others? Until you are only separated by death?"

"I do," she answered quickly, her voice cracking with emotion.

"May I have the rings, please?" Judge Frank asked.

Both Danny and Carmen stepped forward and dropped the simple white gold rings onto the book in the judge's hands.

He picked up the smallest of the two. "Donald, take this ring and place it on the third finger of Samantha's left hand and repeat after me…"

Flack took the ring in his trembling fingers and did as the judge instructed.

"Samantha, accept this ring as a token of my love and fidelity. I promise to honour you, love you and respect you all the days of my life."

He repeated the simple words in a clear, calm voice and slipped the ring onto her finger. Than raised her hand to his lips and kissed the top of it softly and winked at her.

"Samantha," the judge spoke. "Take this ring and place it on the third finger of Donald's left hand and repeat after me…"

She plucked up the thick white gold band.

"Donald, accept this ring as a token of my love and fidelity. I promise to honour you, love you and respect you all the days of my life."

She spoke in a wavering, nervous voice. Gold eyes never left blue as she conveyed all her feelings and thoughts in the touch of her hand and the look in her eyes as she pushed the ring onto Flack's finger.

"And now, Daniel Messer has something he'd like to share," the judge said, nodding at Danny.

The CSI pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his suit jacket and unfolded it. Pushing his glasses up onto his nose, he cleared his throat. "I'm not good at this kind of thing," he said. "But I stumbled upon this the other day and I thought it was perfect for Flack and Brooklyn…sorry, Don and Samantha…"

Everyone laughed at the slip up.

"This is the Apache Wedding Blessing," Danny began. "Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other. Now there is no more loneliness. Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you. May your days together be good and long."

Carmen sniffled noisily and wiped at her eyes with a crumpled Kleenex Speed had slipped her during the ring exchange.

"Under the eyes of God and in front of these witnesses, and according to the state of New York, I now pronounce that this man and this woman are now husband and wife," Judge Frank announced. "What God has brought together, let no man put asunder. Donald, you may kiss your bride."

He smiled brightly and dropped her hand and took her delicate face in both of his hands and kissed her long and soft.

No kiss had ever tasted so good.

* * *

"Well?" Danny asked, as he clapped his best friend on the shoulder outside of the courthouse. "How does it feel to be a married man?"

It was shortly before nine thirty when the small group stepped out into the frigid night air. A light, delicate snow was falling and the moon was full and bright and stars twinkled in the black velvet sky. The wedding licence had been signed by the happy couple and the witnesses and pictures had been taken. Now they were biding their time before a ten o'clock reservation in the Crystal Room at Tavern on the Green. The plan was to hit Rockefeller Centre. See the lights and the massive tree. Take some more pictures. After dinner, Sam and Flack had two nights planned at the luxe Pierre Hotel courtesy of Mac and Stella. They had decided to leave opening Christmas presents and a quiet, relaxing dinner until they returned to their apartment in the early afternoon of the twenty-seventh.

"Honestly?" Flack asked, as he buttoned his winter jacket. "Feels awesome."

"Yeah? What's so different about how you felt before and how you feel now?"

The detective shrugged. "It's just different that's all. I can't explain it. Just knowing that she's my wife, in every sense of the word, it's surreal. Knowing that for the rest of my life, her face is going to the first thing I see when I get up in the morning, and the last thing I see before I got to sleep at night. That we're going to grow old together and raise a family…I don't know. It just feels incredible when I think about all that. And a little weird, too."

Danny frowned. "Weird?"

"I'm someone's husband, Messer. How damn scary is that?"

"Let's just say that if she was my sister, I never would have let you within fifteen feet of her," Danny teased.

"I've seen your relatives, Danny. And you. Last person's sister I'd mess with would be yours considering how damn ugly she'd be," Flack shot back.

"Easy, Flack. Easy. I'd hate to put the beats down on you just after you got married. I gotta say though, I was impressed that you didn't faint or bolt out of there. You're a bigger, braver man than I am."

"It was just time, Danny. Time to grow up, start a new life for myself."

The CSI nodded as he took in those words. "And about that whole thing yesterday at the hospital. You know…Lindsay and the things I said about you and Sam's marriage tanking and you wanting to mess around with Devon…" he spoke quietly, so that Erica, walking several feet behind them with a giddy Samantha and Carmen, couldn't hear him. "I never should have said those things. I'm sorry."

"Look, Danny. I just want you to be happy, alright? And I thought that you were happy with Erica."

"I am," he said. "For the most part."

"But I also know that there's that part of you that's still in love with Lindsay Monroe."

Danny sighed and didn't deny it.

"And if you just take the time to look inside of you think about who you love more and who would make you the most happy, than you'll realize that's who you're meant to be with. And if it's Monroe, than you should be getting your ass on a plane to Montana and telling her these things."

"It's not that simple, Flack," Danny said, shaking his head slowly. "Things may have been pretty cut and dry with you and Sam, but it's not the case here."

"Cut and dry?" Flack laughed. "Are you kidding me? I'd love to know when things have been cut and dry between me and Sam. You know how hard I had to work my ass of to get myself, and her, here tonight.? Come on, Danny. You know all the bullshit and the fighting and the sheer craziness that's gone on with me and Sam. It's never been easy."

"I know that. I know it hasn't always been a bed or roses for you guys. What I mean is that you guys knew, almost from day one, how you felt about one another. That was never a mystery to either of you. You knew she loved you, she knew you loved her. You never kept that from each other. You guys were open and honest about how you felt from each other right from the get go."

"I took a risk, Danny. I told her how I felt about her really early on. And it could have gone either way. We hadn't known each other that long and she was just coming out of something really, really bad and there I was, telling her I loved her and promising her forever. And she could have easily told me I was full of shit and to take a hike. But you know what? She didn't. And if I hadn't have taken that risk, we probably wouldn't be here right now. Just married, a baby on the way."

"Like I said, you're a bigger man than I am, Flack. You weren't afraid to take that chance that she'd tell you to beat it."

"I wasn't afraid? I was fucking terrified. But it was better to take that chance and hope that she was feeling the same things for me, than not take it and live the rest of my life without her and wondering what if and kicking myself for never telling her."

Danny sighed. "I know, Flack, I know…but think about the way I treated her. I shut her out after Ruben and than I had a thing with Rikki and none of that was very fair to her at all. I could have handled things so much better. I pushed her away. And she's got every right to hate me."

"All I'm saying is that you need to make a decision, Messer. Who knows what Monroe is going to say. And you won't know if you don't get some balls and start making amends for all the shitty things you did to her. Shit or get off the pot. One or the other. Lindsay or Erica. It's that fucking simple. You could be missing out on something amazing with Monroe in favour of something that recently, and no offence, has been pretty damn mediocre at best with Erica."

"It's not that I don't love her, Flack. 'Cause I do. But when things are great they're really great and when things are bad, their horribly bad. And lately, it's been more of the latter. And I'm not the guy that deals with that shit very well. I bail when the going gets tough. That's my huge fault."

"You are so preaching to the choir, Mess. Trust me, all relationships go terribly, horribly bad from time to time. I'm in couples therapy still for Christ sakes. Therapy. Never in a million years did I think I'd go willingly to therapy. And you can roll your eyes all you want. 'Cause that shrink keeps me, and Sam, grounded. Hell, he keeps us sane half the time and prevents us from killing each other. And he's made me realize how much I do love her and appreciate her and respect her. And that she's not some possession."

"So what? You telling me to go to therapy now?" Danny scoffed.

"No. I'm just telling you that the sooner you get your shit together, the sooner you'll be able to have somewhat of a normal life with someone you love. And that's one person, Dan-o. Not two."

"You know," Danny gave a little laugh as he kicked at some snow beneath his feet. "I find it hard taking advice from a guy that's been married all of twenty minutes."

"It's well meaning advice from a best friend, Messer. And you know what? You started this conversation. And this is my wedding night and the last thing we should really be talking about is bad shit. I just want to enjoy tonight. As a newly married man. And I want you, as my best man and my best friend to do the same thing. All this other crap? It's up to you to figure it out. Lindsay or Erica. That's what it comes down to. So now shut up about it and worry about it tomorrow. Alright? And speaking of being married. How in the hell did I lose my wife after only twenty minutes?"

"She's with the gaggle of women," Danny said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "You just got that ring on her finger and she's already abandoning you for her friends."

"It's alright. I've got my whole life to be with her. I think I can spare her for a little while."

"That doesn't freak you out? Talking about spending your whole life with someone?" Danny asked.

Flack shrugged. "A little. But not nearly as much as the thought of not having her in my life at all."

A slight smirk tugged at Danny's lips. "You are a sentimental, soft bastard, Flack. What happened to you? Where'd the old Flack go?"

The detective chuckled. "He's gone, Mess. Long gone. And he couldn't have left soon enough."

"I'm happy for you, and for Sam," Danny said. "You guys found something real and special in this God forsaken mess of a world."

Flack nodded slowly as he let those words sink in. "I think you have, too," he told his friend. "I just don't think you realize who you found it with yet."

"And how do I realize that? Any other well meaning best friend advice?"

"Yeah…get your head out of your ass and open your eyes and the choice should become pretty damn clear."

Danny frowned.

"What? You actually want me to tell you who to pick? Come on. That's your battle. I don't care which one it is. As long as you know what you're doing and you're ready to face whatever comes after you make the choice. But sitting on the fence like this? It's just plain goddamn stupid."

"You always did have a talent for telling it like it is," Danny remarked.

"You're a big boy, Mess. So act like it."

* * *

No sooner did those words get past Flack's lips, he felt something smack up against the middle of his back. Than heard the loud giggling of the group of women behind them. And turned to see Carmen Devine bent down, gathering up two handfuls of snow.

"That was real fucking mature, Devine," he snapped, hunched down to grab some snow himself and packed it into a tight ball and chucked it at her. Catching her in the chest and sending wet, dirty snow spraying up into her face.

"You asshole, Flack!" she shrieked, and tossed her own snow ball and ran at him.

Laughing, he intercepted her easily, picked her up and put her over his shoulder and than none to gently deposited her, ass first, in the nearest, deepest snow bank.

"And you tell me to grow up?" Danny asked with a smirk, as Flack and Carmen, laughing, found themselves embroiled in a snow tossing fight. Carmen squealing when the detective shoved a handful of snow down the back of her jacket and shirt. She responded by smashing a handful of the white stuff in his face.

"You bitch," Flack said with a chuckle as he stood up and used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the cold, slushy snow off of his face. "Come on, get your ass on up out of there," he offered his hand. "And don't even think about pulling me down there."

"Oh you're just so damn scary," she responded sarcastically, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. "You're such a moron, Don," she declared, dusting the back of her jacket off.

"Hey, I could have dumped you face first into some yellow snow," he told her. "Be thankful it was relatively clean."

"I seriously don't know how Sam puts up with you," Carmen huffed.

"Easy," he said. "She loves me."

"Poor delusional girl," Speed commented as the rest of the group finally caught up.

"I don't know," Sam said, a permanent beaming smile on her face as she wrapped her arm around her new husband's waist. "He's a pretty damn good catch. I think I just may keep him."

"You think?" Flack asked, smiling down at her and running a hand over her hair. "Is there some kind of thirty day exchange policy I don't know about? Dissatisfied after a month and you can turn me in for another husband? Is there one for wives, too?"

"Sorry," she said, stepping in front of him and putting both arms around him and snuggling into his chest as the others, giving the newlyweds some space and privacy, continued down the sidewalk. "I am afraid you are stuck with me for at least fifty years."

He put both of his arms around her and held her tightly. And they stood there, holding one another in the middle of the snowy New York City sidewalk with snow flakes trickling softly down around them. It was as if they were the only two people in the world at that moment. That nothing else existed outside of them and the surreal wholeness and completeness that enveloped them. And the immense love and happiness that was almost over whelming.

He pulled back and kissed her softly. Removed one arm from around her in order to brush snowflakes from her cheeks with a gentle hand.

"Fifty years isn't near long enough," he told her.

She smiled softly and rested her head against him once again. "Sixty years?" she asked.

"Longer."

"Seventy? We'd probably be dead by than."

"I was thinking more like an eternity," he told her.

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling.

"An eternity sounds just about right to me," she said.

* * *

Danny was just a little tipsy. The champagne had went down a little too easy. Mixed in with the fact he'd never managed to get all the booze out of his system from the night before and it didn't take much for him to feel the affects. Throughout the dinner and the happy chatter taking place among the guests, he'd been unusually quiet and withdrawn. The words that Flack had spoken regarding his relationship with Erica and his lingering feelings for Lindsay had hit hard. The truth of the matter was that no matter how much he had convinced himself that he hated Lindsay and had moved on, a part of him still missed her. And loved her.

And he had told her as much during one of their late night chats while he was working the graveyard. He wasn't even sure how the near daily phone calls had started. She had emailed him three months before. Telling him all about life back in Montana and about her family and how strange it felt to be back in the crime lab there. Although she was born and bred there, she felt out of place. It wasn't her home anymore, she said. New York was where she was meant to be. Where her heart still lingered. And she had told him she missed him and was sorry for the way things went down.

He'd sat on those words for about a week. Reading and re-reading that e-mail until he had memorized it and could recite it word for word. He felt like a bastard. He'd been the one that had caused the demise of their relationship. He hadn't let her be there for him when he had needed her. When Ruben had died, he'd completely withdrew from her. It had been a selfish, immature act. One that he regretted to that very day. Because he now knew, as he watched Sam and Flack exchange vows despite all the hardships and issues they had faced, that the support of the one person you loved more than anything, could see you through anything.

He had pushed Lindsay away. He had had a fling with Rikki. They had been drawn together out of the sheer grief of Ruben's death. He had never had any intention on promising tomorrow, let alone forever to Rikki. They had been at a weak moment in their lives. They had been there for each other when they needed it the most. He felt bad about that. Using Rikki as a ways to quench his pain. Because Rikki had deserved so much more than that. She was a beautiful, amazing woman that deserved to be wanted and cherished and loved. She deserved her son back, too. And that was something Danny couldn't give her no matter how hard he tried. And it was partly because of his negligence, that Ruben had been killed in the first place.

If I'd only made sure he got home, Danny thought, as he sipped champagne and listened to the conversations taking place around the table. If I had had just not stopped to help out and taken him home, none of this would have ever happened. He would still be alive and Rikki and I never would have happened. And Lindsay would still be here. And who knows where my life would be.

Not that it was a bad life. Far from it. He'd met an amazing woman. Erica was smart and beautiful. She had a great job and lived the high life thanks to her ex husband. But she was possessive and clingy and tried, and almost succeeded, controlling every aspect of Danny's life. He did love her. But sometimes he wondered if she felt the same for him. Or if she was just hanging in there until something better came along. All he knew was that he didn't want to be alone. And if Erica was in it for the long haul, than so was he. She was the sure thing. He couldn't take the chance on something or someone that wasn't guaranteed.

There was a lull in the conversation as his companions sipped their drinks and feasted on caramel pecan cheesecake. He smiled at Erica as she leaned sideways in her seat and pressed a kiss to his cheek and rubbed his thigh softly.

"Maybe you should make your little speech now," she suggested. "Before you get too much champagne in you."

He nodded in agreement and stood up and cleared his throat and tapped his fork on his champagne glass to get everyone's attention.

"I just want to say a few things," he said. "A best man's speech, if you will. Now you all know that I'm the best guy for sentimentality or words, but I just felt like I needed to say a little something about Samantha and Flack. Yes, he's Flack. Not Donald or Don. He's Flack. He's never been anything but Flack to me. I remember, meeting him at a crime scene many, many moons ago it seems, and him making a smart ass comment about how us science geeks just thought we ruled the world. I told the chump that maybe if he had have been smart enough to go to college than maybe he could have something better to say to me than some lame ass insult. That was it. Boom. We were instant friends. And he introduced himself as Don Flack. Not Jr at the end because it didn't matter to either of us to be honest. He didn't care that I was some smart ass kid from Staten Island with a somewhat shady past anymore than I cared that he was the offspring of NYPD royalty. I was Messer or Dan-o and he was just Flack. Plain and simple."

Danny reached for his glass and took a sip of champagne before continuing.

"Flack's not just a colleague," he said. "He's my best friend. The best one anyone could ever ask for. He doesn't judge you or look down on you. He offers up well meaning, if not a little off handed, advice. He stays quiet when you need him to be. Although a quiet Flack is somewhat of a rarity. If he isn't tossing out some kind of sarcastic comment, it's safe to say that he's not feeling very good or he's just having an excessively crappy day. Flack's the guy you want covering your ass in an interrogation or going through the door on a raid. The one you want running behind you while chasing a perp. Because you know, no matter what happens, that he's got your back. And that goes for personal stuff too. He's helped me through a lot of stuff. He's never belittled me or felt sorry for me. Although I'm sure he's wanted to kick my ass a few times."

"A few dozen," Flack corrected.

"To make a long story short," Danny continued. "As much as he knows about me, I also know about him. And trust me, he's not a scary as he seems. Usually his bark is worse than his bite. He's made some really good choices the past several years and trust me, he's made some really, really bad ones. And that day that him and Sam met outside of the crime lab, I just knew that this night would eventually come. There was just something there immediately. I can't explain it. But I know I felt it. And I know they did too. And that's why we're here tonight. Because these two just happened to find each other. At a time they both needed someone the most. And you can say what you want. You can say that it's all happening way too quick and will never last. I know I thought it at first. And said it. But watching them tonight, I can tell you, without a doubt in my heart, that these two will make it. Because they love each other. And you'd have to be a fool not to see it. Or be a slight bit jealous about it."

Flack smiled at his new wife, who sat watching and listening to Danny intently, tears in her eyes. He picked up her hand and held it tightly and leaned sideways in his chair to press a kiss to her cheek.

"I know I'm rambling," Danny said. "So I will wrap this up with these last words. Samantha and Flack…I hope that you still love each other forty, fifty years from now as you do at this moment. I wish you both nothing but happiness, health and love. Most of all, I wish you both forever. So," he held his champagne glass up. "To Samantha and Flack."

The guests echoed the sentiment as well and toasted the happy couple now kissing softly and gazing into each other's eyes.

Danny sat back down and took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Flack leaned over and laid a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Good job, Messer," he said just loud enough for the CSI to hear. "Now take my advice and go after your own forever, okay?"

Danny smiled and nodded.

There was more for him to gain than loose.

* * *

The hotel room was spacious and opulent. Plush cream wall to wall carpeting and elaborately carved ceilings and rich cherry wood antique furniture. A canopy bed that boasted gold, cream and burgundy brocade draperies and matching pillows and comforter. A bathroom big enough to fit most one bedroom apartments in and came complete with a Jacuzzi tub that had a flat screen television mounted above it. When they had arrived, shortly after midnight, the bed had been done up with rose petals strewn across it and a box of imported chocolates at each pillow and a bottle of sparkling cider chilling in a bucket of ice near the picture window that over looked Central Park.

In less than ten minutes, all those rose petals and the boxes of chocolates and most of the covers had been tossed on the floor along with clothing. The doctor had said no sex. Specifically no getting off on Sam's part because of the fear that the contractions of the uterus would bring on premature labour. And they'd obeyed those rules. They'd made out like a couple of horny high school kids on prom night. Although he'd been careful not too take things to far in case they found themselves unable to stop. Neither were prepared for the consequences of what could happen if they went any further. But it hadn't stopped Sam from going that extra distance so he wouldn't have to suffer as much as she was.

And an hour later, as Flack sat up in their rumbled bed, leaning back against the head board in just his boxer shorts as he sipped a glass of the cider and watched ESPN, he had honestly never been more satisfied and more frustrated at the same time. Frustrated because he hadn't been able to return the favour to his wife of less than three hours.

She didn't seem too fazed by the lack of personal satisfaction. And as she came out of the bathroom, there was a soft, content smile on her face. She wore a knee length, long sleeve grey nightshirt that boasted a huge picture of Jerry, the mouse from the cartoon Tom and Jerry. Jerry had an ice cream cone in his hand and just above his head, written in green glitter, were the words YUMMY MUMMY.

Flack could not agree more.

"You're watching the Rangers on our wedding night?" she teased, as she climbed into bed beside him and fixed her pillows and leaned back against the head board as well.

"Well I had to see if someone scored tonight," he answered dryly, chuckling as he received a playful elbow in the stomach. He wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her in tight to his side.

"I'm sorry," she said, as she rested her hand on his stomach and her head on his shoulder.

"For what?"

"You know…because we can't do what most people do on their wedding night."

He grinned and kissed the top of her head. "Ask me, you shouldn't be the one apologizing. It should be our son saying he's sorry for screwing things up for you. I made out just fine, didn't I?"

"More than fine I would say," she said with a laugh, and reaching for the glass in his free hand, took a sip of the cider. "Where's the chocolate?" she asked.

"Somewhere on the floor, I think. Buried underneath all of our clothes. Why? You hungry?"

She nodded. "When am I not?"

"All night room and concierge service," he reminded her. "I mean, who needs sex when you have free satellite t.v, complimentary wet bar and a Jacuzzi tub? We have our whole lives to have sex. We'll probably never step foot in the Pierre Hotel again. Unless someone gets killed here and we investigate the crime scene. So, what do you feel like? Whatever your little heart desires."

"Hmmm…chocolate covered strawberries and some ice cream would go really good right about now."

"I'll see what I can do," Flack told her, pressing another kiss to the top of her head before slipping out of bed and going to the table by the window and grabbing the room service menu. But not before stopping at the duffel bag of clothes and personal affects he had brought along. He unzipped it, rummaged around for a few moments and came up with a folded piece of lined paper.

"This is for you," he said.

"You're not going to make me cry again, are you?" she asked, taking the paper from him. "That card you had Angell gave me did me in. I still cry when I think about it."

"It might make you a bit teary," he replied. "You remember that thing the shrink asked us to write? Five things I hate and love about you? And we never got around to it because of that whole thing with the raid and when we got back to therapy it was like that other stuff got shoved to the back burner?"

She nodded.

"Well, that's my offering. I was going to give it to you when you were in the hospital having the operation but I honestly forgot about it with everything that was going on. I just found it again when I got the bag out to pack for tonight. So I figured, no better time to share it with you than on our wedding night."

He retreated to the table by the window and flipped open the room service menu.

"You're not going to sit with me while I read it?" she asked, as she unfolded the paper.

"I already know what it says," he teased. "Besides, I'm not sure how you're going to react so I better stay a safe distance."

She frowned and reached for her glasses that she'd unpacked and left on the beside table. She slipped them onto her face and settled herself against the pillows once again.

_**FIVE THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU**_

_**1. That I never met you sooner. Like say five years ago so I could avoid a lot of hurt and rejection and crap in my life  
2. That I don't tell you often enough how I really feel about you  
3. That I'm not brave enough or strong enough to tell you how I really feel sometimes  
4. That you and I never had more time to just be us without having to worry about other things  
5. That when you look at me I can see just how you feel but I don't know if you see the same thing when you look at me**_

_**FIVE THINGS I LOVE ABOUT YOU**_

_**1. The way you smile at me and your nose and your eyes crinkle and I know that you are truly and genuinely happy  
2. The way you make me feel each and every time you touch me  
3. The way you kiss me like you've never, ever kissed anyone else half as good as me in your entire life  
4. The way you don't look down on me because I'm just some dumb cop with a grade twelve  
5. That despite everything I've put you through, you still look at me as if I'm the greatest man on the earth and that I can do no wrong  
6. (I had to add an extra one) That you gave me chance to prove that I am a good person.  
7. (okay, so there's an extra two) That you're going to be the mother of all my children.**_

Tears spilled down her face and she wiped them away with the sleeve of her pyjamas. "I hate you," she declared.

He smiled and stood up and sat back down beside her on the bed. He reached out and gently cleared the tears away with his thumbs.

"Tell me you love me," she gently demanded, sniffling noisily.

"I love you," he told her. "I will always love you."

She smiled and kissed him softly. "Forever?" she asked.

"However long that is," he replied.

She curled her arms around his neck and pulled him into her for a long, tight hug.

"I love you, too," she said, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his cheek. "Now feed me."

He laughed and pulled away from her. "So this is how it's gonna be, huh? You're going to be one of those bossy, demanding wives, huh?"

She grinned and nodded. Picked up his left hand and ran her fingertips over the wedding band he now wore.

"Seems kind of weird," she said. "Seeing that on your finger. Does it feel weird? Having it there?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I was never one for jewellery so I guess it might take some getting used to. But when I look at it…I don't know. It doesn't seem weird to me."

"No?"

Flack shook his head. "Seems more perfect than anything," he admitted.

She smiled brightly. "You know what seems odd? When someone calls me Mrs Flack. When the desk clerk said it I thought your mother was standing behind me or something."

"Well, that's who you are now. Goodbye Miss Ross and hello Mrs Flack. Kind of like putting everything old behind you."

She nodded. "I like that idea," she said. "I become a new person. With a new name. And God knows," she looked down at her stomach. "An entirely new body."

"Hey, who knows? Maybe this time tomorrow night we'll be parents, too."

"You bite your tongue!" she laughed, swatting his arm playfully as he climbed off the bed and went to order room service. "You know," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I'm really glad you're my husband."

"I'm glad I'm your husband too," he said, picking up the phone. "But not nearly as glad as I am that you're my wife."

"You really as a corny bastard now that you're nearing thirty-one," she declared.

He winked at her and dialled the number for the front desk.

She sighed contently and closed her eyes.

She had gotten the ending she wanted. And now, a whole new story had begun.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all you lurkers! But keep sending me reviews! I love knowing if you guys like my stuff!**

**Thanks to:**

**Brttmclv  
****Hope4sall  
****Bluehaven4220  
****muchmadness  
****Forest Angel  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****Laplandgurl  
****GregRox  
****wolfeylady**


	99. Proceed with Caution

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**Proceed with Caution**

"And I need, someone to believe in  
Yes someone to fill this space, with grace  
To look into my eyes and touch my face  
To make me feel alive today  
Someone to make me strong  
Someone to make me belong  
Someone to make it all right  
Someone to make me feel alive, yeah  
And stretching out like rubber bands  
To kiss the cheeks and shake the hands  
And pull horns and wonderlands.  
With strong arms and no legs to stand  
And getting by on hand me downs  
With your tips, your drinks, your buying rounds  
Back to my old stomping grounds  
Like children in the lost and found.  
-Rain Delays, Crash Parallel

* * *

A week and a half before he had strolled the halls of the court house under entirely different circumstances. He had gone in there that night a nervous wreck and had come out a married man with no cares or worries in the world. And while the permanent shit eating grin remained on his face, real life had come crashing down right quick forty eight hours later when he'd been called out at two in the morning to face his first crime scene as a newlywed. A body that had been spotted floating face down in the partially frozen East River. What had appeared at first as a jumper had taken a sharp right to murder when Sid detected lethally high levels of toxins in the male vic's system and multiple defence wounds and broken bones.

The water had washed away any trace evidence and the vic had had no identification on him. His photo in the paper and on the evening news every night for a week had yielded no calls from the public and investigators still had no clues as to his identity or to who had killed him and why. It was a rude welcome back for Flack, who up until that phone call had worried about nothing more than catering to his new wife's every little whim, celebrating their small, quiet, belated Christmas, and making plans for the imminent arrival of their son.

It was January 4, 2009. Kieran's birth was tentatively scheduled for the second of February. Although the doctor had warned that most first timers were notoriously late and it could be as late as the fourteenth before the baby decided to make his entrance into the world. Flack was nervous. More nervous than he had been walking out of the precinct Christmas Eve and driving with Danny Messer to his own wedding. He was paranoid that Samantha, who was now off work for the remainder of the pregnancy, would go into labour either the second he walked out the door, or found himself an hour away at a crime scene or stuck in court testifying. He had purchases, and now carried a pager for those exact reasons. If he was ever on his phone conducting work business and she went into labour, all she had to do was page him 911 and he knew that it was show time.

Thankfully, that hadn't happened yet. Although he found himself, a few times on a daily basis in fact, using his cell phone to call the pager clipped to his belt to make sure that it was working. Danny had called him a paranoid moron for being that way. If she went into labour, someone would be damn sure to find out and tell him right quick. Flack didn't care what he looked like or what he came across as. He was damn well determined not to miss a single moment of his kid's birth.

Now if only he could get his ass out of the courthouse in time to make it to some of Sam's last appointment with the OB/GYN and the maternity registration. He was already running the risk of missing most, or all of her final ultrasound. That was scheduled for quarter to ten and it was already eight-thirty and the word had gone out quick at eight that the public defender handling Travis Cooper's case was running late. The blustery conditions and near constant snow and ice pellets that had been assaulting the city since midnight made travelling treacherous at best. Flack was suppose to get on the stand to testify at the preliminary hearing for the D.A. at quarter to nine. And that didn't look like it was going to happen.

He abandoned his seat on a wooden bench across the hall from the court room the case had been assigned to and paced the halls. Alternating between checking his watch and casting glances out the window at the God awful shitty weather. He sighed heavily and pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his charcoal grey suit jacket and dialled the familiar number.

"Hello?" she mumbled groggily.

"Rise and shine Thumbelina," he teased.

"You just think you're so damn cute, don't you honey," came her sleepy response.

Flack had never, ever had a woman call him a pet name before. With Sam is was usually sweetie or baby. She very rarely called him honey. He had complained on numerous occasions how silly it sounded to call a grown man that. And how old it made him feel. But since those rings had gone on their fingers, he realized whatever she wanted to call him was fine by him. As long as it wasn't something profanity laced said out of anger and annoyance.

"I don't think it," he said with a slight chuckle. "I know it."

"You wish," she scoffed and yawned noisily. "You have this very, very bad habit of waking me up at ungodly hours."

"Ungodly hours? It's like eight thirty in the morning."

"Hey, what's normal for you is ungodly for me," she said. "I am on my sick leave, slash maternity leave. If I want to stay in bed until noon hour, I will."

"Well you're going to have to leave that for tomorrow because you have your ultrasound and all those other appointments today."

She sighed heavily. "I knew I forgot something."

"I left some money on the microwave for you to take a cab to Women's and Children's. And I mean it, Samantha. Take a cab. Not the bus and not the subway. A taxi. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir, Detective Sargent," she answered with a giggle. "And to be honest, I don't think I could manage to get myself to the subway station or the bus stop in this weather. It's nasty outside."

"All the more reason why you need to get up now and get ready. You have to drink all that water before your ultrasound and with the roads the way they are, you're best to leave at least half an hour earlier than normal. How's the baby been this morning?"

"Well, you did just wake me up," she reminded him. "But the moment I sat up he started in on one of his wild rampages. I swear to God he's throwing some crazy parties in there. And I do wish he'd stop using my bladder as a soccer ball. Did you hear me go to the washroom five times last night?"

"I knew you got out of bed twice. I was probably too out of it for the other three."

"I am telling you, one time I am not going to make it to the bathroom and you're going to have a puddle on the bedroom floor to clean up."

"In that case, I'll buy you some of them adult diapers on my way to the hospital," he teased. "I was also calling to let you know that I handed in your victim impact statement to the D.A. and he said it was everything he wanted and more. Not as good as being able to testify in person, but better than nothing. I showed him that doctor's note just in case he actually was doubting you were eight plus months pregnant and could pop any day."

She gave a small laugh. "You have such a lovely, poetic way of phrasing things," she chided. "Have you seen Travis Cooper yet?"

"I think he's still in holding," Flack told her. "They won't bring him up until his public defender is here and the guy's running nearly an hour late. I probably won't get on the stand before ten o'clock."

"Which means you won't make it for any of the ultrasound," she concluded.

"Definitely not. But I'm gonna bust my ass to meet you at the doctor's office. Even if I have to go all out with lights and sirens."

"Now that's love," she said with a giggle.

"Hey, I don't want to miss a damn thing," he told her. "And besides, I need to keep an eye on the doctor during the physical exam. OB's are just pervs with licences to practice medicine if you ask me."

"Don, my doctor is a woman," Sam reminded him.

"Maybe she's into girls," he said.

"You perv. Not getting any is just messing your brain right up. Will you call me when you're on your way to the hospital? Just so I know where you're going to meet me?"

"I will call you," he assured her. "You need anything, you call Stella or Carmen and they'll find a way to help you out. And Danny's always good in a pinch so you could give him a shout, too."

"I think I'll be okay," she said. "Good luck. I'm sure you'll do great."

"I'll see you soon. I love you guys."

"We love you too," she said and hung up.

Flack pressed end and set his phone to vibrate before dropping it into his jacket pocket. Unable to control a broad grin from spreading from ear to ear. He found himself smiling a lot more in the past week and a half. He laughed easier and loved a lot harder. And it was a damn good feeling to have someone to go home to after a long, tiring day that loved you just the same.

* * *

He cast a glance out the window at the dreary grey sky and the wind that threatened to snap off tree branches and heard the flecks of ice that pattered against the glass. It was depressing as all hell. Sighing heavily, he shook his head in utter disgust at the weather.

"Looks like you're wishing you were anywhere else but here," a familiar voice said in way of greeting. "Say maybe Cabo San Lucas or the Dominican."

"I was thinking more warm and snug in my bed but a tropical paradise sounds mighty nice right about now," Flack said with a smile. "You're here early, Mac."

"I thought the drive in from the lab would take a lot longer than it did," the head of the crime lab sat. He held take out cups of coffee in each hand and held one out to the younger man. "Figured you could use a warmer upper."

"Pick me upper is more like it," the homicide detective quipped and accepted the piping hot coffee. "Thanks…I needed something to keep me awake."

"Not sleeping good?" Mac asked, as the two men retreated to a bank of chairs several feet away.

"Sam's getting really uncomfortable so she tosses and turns all night," Flack replied, sipping his coffee as he sat down. "And she's always kicking the covers off and complaining she's too hot or bundling up saying she's freezing to death. And the trips to the bathroom," he shook his head. "I swear to God, Mac. She must get up half a dozen times in the span of one night. And the baby…now he's a holy terror. If she has her stomach against me, I can actually feel him rolling around and kicking her. Can't be over soon enough if you ask me."

"What is it now? A month?"

Flack nodded. "She goes today for her last ultrasound and to see the doctor. Last time they checked, Kieran was coming ass first. If he's still like that they're either going to try and turn him or just schedule a c-section."

"What's Sam hoping for?"

"She's hoping to get through it in one piece," the detective laughed. "She's all wound up about this delivering in the tub thing. Freaks me right out. I keep working myself up about how he's going to drown."

Mac chuckled. "Babies spend nine months inside nothing but water, Don. He's not going to drown in a birthing tub surrounded by doctors and nurses."

"That's what Sam says. But you know me, Mac. I'm a little anal and paranoid about anyone that carries the initials MD at the end of their name."

Mac just smiled and nodded. It may have been a week and a half since the wedding, but every time he caught a glimpse of the thick wedding band on Flack's finger Mac found it simply surreal. More because two years ago, that young man had come so close to death and had clawed and fought his way back. Mac himself had watched Flack grow both professionally and personally. From a third grade detective to a detective Sargent. From an often arrogant, off handed boy to a mature, self-assured man. A husband and pretty soon a father. And while Don Flack Jr wasn't his son, Mac Taylor was damn proud of that kid nonetheless.

"So married life is treating you okay?" Mac asked, taking a swig of coffee.

"So far so good," Flack replied. "A little stressful wondering if my boy's gonna make an unexpected appearance but other than that, I have no complaints. Hope I can still say that when I'm eighty and we've been married fifty years."

"Well I hope I'm still around to toast the two of you on your fiftieth anniversary," Mac said. "You know, when Claire and I first got married, we just revelled in that whole honeymoon stage. I couldn't keep the grin off of my face. You know what one I mean. You've been walking around with it for nearly two weeks now. It was just this phenomenal feeling. And we had lived together before we got married just like you and Sam did. But the second that that ring went on her finger, it was like she became this entirely different person. She wasn't just my girlfriend or my fiancee any longer. She was my wife."

Flack smiled. "I completely get where you're coming from. Every morning since we got married, I've been waking up before her and just lying there and staring at her. Like I'm seeing her for the first time every time I open my eyes. It's hard to explain. You just know you feel it."

Mac nodded in agreement. "I still think about her from time to time."

Flack glanced over at the older man. Hearing the hint of sadness and regret and loss in Mac's voice. "Claire?"

He sighed. "Every now and than certain little things crop up that make me think about her. Every time I get a visit from Reed I sit there and think about how much he reminds me of her. Looks, personality. The whole ball of wax. I was out doing some Christmas shopping before the holidays and there was this woman a few people ahead of me with the same colour of hair and the same cape style jacket Claire wore in the winter and for a brief second, I was half tempted to chase after her to see if it was Claire. And her birthday was January second."

"Yesterday," Flack said. "I didn't know that."

"It was all I could do to get through the day," Mac admitted. "It's been like that every year on her birthday since nine eleven."

"Mac," Flack sighed and chose his words carefully. "I need to ask something. About Claire. And you. And you have every right to tell me to mind my own business if I'm treading on thin ice."

"I think we've known each other long enough and have enough respect for each other to be able to ask, and answer, difficult questions. So go right ahead."

"It'll be the eighth anniversary of nine eleven this year," the detective began. "And trust me, it still haunts me to this day the things I saw working down at Ground Zero doing recovery work. Personal affects, pieces of bodies. And the smell. I swear to God if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough, I can still smell it. A big pile of death. And that's something I never want to smell again as long as I live."

Mac sipped his coffee and didn't interrupt.

"You took your wedding ring off a few years ago now. But I know it still kills you inside that you lost Claire. And trust me, Mac, I get where you're coming from. Because if something was to happen to Sam and I had to face my life without her…" he shook his head and stared down at the wedding band on his finger. "I just couldn't deal with that. And I understand it must just tear you up inside to think about what happened to your wife."

"But…I can feel a but coming on, Don."

"It's not really a but. I was just wondering if it would have been easier for you to cope with it and accept it if they'd actually found something of Claire. Do you ever find yourself holding onto this faint hope that she's out there somewhere?"

"For a while I did," Mac admitted. "For the first couple of years I held onto this faint shred of hope that maybe she was in a hospital somewhere. That maybe she was so burnt and disfigured that no one could tell who she was. Or maybe she had a severe head injury and simply couldn't remember who she was. But I think I always knew, in my heart, that that was just a fantasy. That she wasn't going to come home. Ever. And eventually, when I was able to admit that out loud, I was able to move on."

"Have you, Mac?" Flack asked. "Moved on? Totally and completely?"

"I don't think it will ever be completely," he admitted sadly.

"But you love Stella. And I know she loves you. And if you ask me, you guys wasted way too much time denying how you felt about each other. So how do you draw the line between how you felt about Claire and how you feel about Stella. And is there a clear line? Is there a difference?"

Mac thought about it long and hard before answering. "There's a difference," he said. "Claire was the first love of my life. She was my wife and my future. But unfortunately, we never got the chance to get too far into that future. And Stella…Stella is my second chance at life and love and happiness."

"I get that," Flack said with a slow nod. "But honestly, Mac, I don't think I'd ever get over it if something bad happened to Sam. And I don't think I could ever love anyone else."

"You'd love them in a different way, Don."

The detective shook his head. "I couldn't be with anyone else. I know that. And I wouldn't want anyone else. The thought of being with someone else…" his voice drifted off.

"Well let's hope you never have to face a day where something bad does happen," Mac told the younger man. "Let's hope that the two of you grow old and grey and have many, many years together. And why are you thinking so fatalistically? You've been married all of ten days."

"Just something that crosses my mind every once in a while," Flack responded, getting to his feet and tossing his empty coffee cup in a nearby garbage.

"You should be thinking about positive things," Mac told him. "About enjoying your lives together and having this baby and many more afterwards. There's many years left before either of you have to consider what life would be like without the other."

"I know," the detective said with a sigh. "Just sometimes I get in this mood where I think like that is all. I was writing a new will out the other day. I wanted to make sure that all the bases were covered and that I had dotted all my I's and crossed all my T's now that Sam's legally my wife and the baby will be here soon. And Sam just went nuts on me. Said I was spooking her and didn't want me to be thinking about bad shit like that. I mean, I just want her and the boy to be okay if something happened to me tomorrow, Mac."

"They would be, Don. And you know that. There's a lot of people that love her and love that baby and we'd make sure that they were both well taken care of. That's not something you need to be worrying about. Only thing that should be on your mind right now, is taking care of the present with your new wife and your son. And keeping a clear head for this trial. Any news?"

"Public defender is running late because of the weather. I handed in Sam's victim impact statement and the DA said there's no issues with me testifying as both the responding officer to the crime scene, and as a personal relation to her. I did hear that Cooper's going to be looking for a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Mac asked.

Flack shrugged. "As far as I can tell, he's looking for a plea bargain. Maybe drop everything down to manslaughter so he gets just life instead of an execution date. And between you and me, he's trying to get the attempted murder of a cop charge tossed."

"That's a bunch of crap," Mac growled. "How does the defence think they'll get away with that?"

"Apparently he's going to testify that a, he didn't know she was a cop, and b, he didn't have any intention on killing her. That he just wanted to rough her up a bit, scare her."

"He tried to strangle her," Mac argued. "He would have raped her and killed her had she not shot him. And I will tell you this right now, Flack, that is one charge I will not let them drop. He knew damn well she was cop and he had every intention on killing her. He stabbed her with a near lethal dose of narcotics."

"Trust me, Mac. No one is more pissed off about it than me. That's my wife. And I swear, if that wackjob so as much utters a foul word about her, I am jumping over that railing and laying a beating on him that he will never forget."

The older man sighed heavily and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"All fun and games, huh, Mac?" Flack laughed. "Isn't it just one of those days that you just love your job and the bullshit that goes with it?"

"And here I was coming here early hoping to catch up to you with some good news," he sighed.

"I could use some good news. I love good news. You can never have too much of it."

"Stella and I set a date for the wedding," Mac told him.

"Yeah? That's awesome. When's it going to be?"

"April 18th. It's just going to be something small and intimate. No more than twenty people and preformed by the department chaplain. Nothing fancy or over the top. Just unassuming and quaint like you and Samantha had."

"Six guests," Flack grinned. "Can't get much more quaint than that. That's great news, Mac. I was starting to wonder when you two were going to take the plunge. I was wondering if maybe you were getting cold feet."

"Not in a million years," he declared. "I'd marry her today if I could. And I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing me a favour."

"I'll try," Flack said.

"I'd like you to be my best man, Don."

The younger man blinked. Certainly not what he had been expecting to hear.

"We've worked together for quite a while now," Mac continued. "And I've always respected you and trusted you. Not just as a cop but as human being. And seeing how much you've grown up since you met Samantha and everything you've taken on. A marriage, a baby. There's never been a time I've been more proud of you."

Flack found himself uncharacteristically choked up by the honesty in Mac Taylor's voice.

"And I'd be honoured if you'd stand beside me on my wedding day," Mac told him.

Flack nodded as he searched for the perfect words to say. Unable to speak due to the lump of emotion in his throat.

"I know it's a lot to ask considering we haven't always seen eye to eye…"

"I'd be honoured, Mac," the detective said, cutting him off.

Mac smiled and nodded and reached out and patted the younger man on the back. "Best part is, you don't have to wear a tux."

Flack chuckled. "My wife would beg to differ. She likes me in a tux. Says I remind her of James Bond."

"What is it with women and their weaknesses for spies?" Mac asked. "Stella is like that, too."

"I don't know about spies. But my wife's weakness is cops. Sometimes I seriously wonder if that's the only reason why she married me. 'Cause she has a thing for the badge and the gun and the cuffs."

"Something tells me there's more to her decision to become your wife than that," Mac said.

The door to the courtroom clicked open and the District Attorney Victor Davis stepped out into the hallway.

"Detective Flack," he called. "We're ready to start."

"Show time," Flack said as he got to his feet. "Wish me luck."

"Way your life has been going? A beautiful wife and a baby on the way?" Mac laughed. "Seems like you have all the luck you need. Like having a horse shoe up your ass."

The detective chuckled heartily. "That is something you never would have said before Stella," he said.

"A good woman affects us in strange ways, Flack."

"And we wouldn't want it any other way," the younger man declared, and disappeared into the court room.

* * *

It was ten minutes to eleven when Flack found himself hurrying into the fourth floor Obstetrics and Gynaecology Clinic at Women's and Children's Hospital. The main area itself was massive and a hub of activity. A large central reception desk housed five medical clerks for each of the physicians that had their practices running out of the clinic. The place was noisy and crowded. Not uncommon for a Monday. The beginning of the week and Thursdays were the only full days that the doctors were in their offices. The remaining three days were spent doing shifts on the actual OB/GYN and labour and delivery wards.

He spotted Samantha sitting in a bank of chairs along the far right wall. Under a large, colourful poster by the Kodak company that featured a dozen babies, all of different shapes and sizes and races, in bright, cheery outfits and propped against a stark white background. The words LIFE'S LITTLE MIRACLES was printed from one corner of the poster to the other.

He thought of how beautiful she looked sitting there. With her hair pushed behind her ear and stylish dark framed glasses on her face and absolutely no makeup on her pale, smooth skin. Wearing a pair of maternity jeans and a long sleeve black top embellished with red and yellow embroidery around the neck line and cuffs of the sleeves. The top was tied together at the middle of her back and accented her pregnancy. Not that it needed to be accentuated. It was obvious from a mile away.

"So you come here often?" he asked, winking playfully at her as he shed his winter coat and dropped it on top of hers in the chair to her left.

"Why am I not surprised you'd be the type to troll for women in the OB/GYN department," she teased, looking up from her magazine as he slipped into the chair to her left.

"There's just something so insanely sexy about a pregnant woman," he declared, leaning sideways to press a kiss to the side of her head. "One in particular."

"Is she here today?" Sam asked.

"Didn't see her. So I figured I'd settle for hanging out with you."

"Oh you are just so funny," she said sarcastically.

He kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "So? How'd the ultrasound go? He still coming ass first or what?"

"Thankfully, your son has decided to take the easier route and has turned himself around the right way. So we are no longer looking at scheduling a C-section."

"You disappointed? You sound a little disappointed."

"I was growing partial to the thought of being knocked out completely," she admitted, closing her magazine and tucking it into her satchel style purse resting at her feet. She pulled out a manila envelope and held it out to him. "That's our last ultrasound pictures. They turned out really good. Especially the profile ones."

Flack took the envelope from her and opened it. Inside were four sepia coloured still pictures. At the bottom left corner of each one was the date and time. At the top right corner were the words BABY FLACK. Those simple words and seeing his last name there like that, attributed to something incredible and beautiful that they had managed to create together, caused excitement and anticipation to rush through his body and tears spring to his eyes.

"Are you getting all soft on me?" Sam teased, curled her arms around his bicep and hugging his arm to her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You know how much I like it when you're all assertive and aggressive. Don't be doing a three sixty on me here."

He gave a small smile and shuffled through the pictures. "Guess that explains your heart burn, huh?"

"What's that?"

"Look at all the hair the kid has. And how dark it is. Full head of hair already."

"Isn't that an old wives tale?" Sam asked, peering at the pictures.

"I've heard a couple people say that their wives had massive indigestion and the baby came out with lots of hair. Now it's true in your case, too."

"He's got your ears," Sam said, pointing to the area on the profile picture. "And your chin and by the looks of it your lips."

"Got your nose though. Thank God. I was hoping against hope that was one thing he wouldn't get from me. All the Flack kids have inherited my father's nose. I am so glad we escaped that dreaded curse."

"Flack nose or no Flack nose, he looks just like you," Sam commented.

"Hard to tell who he looks like in ultrasound pictures."

"Please," she laughed. "You're just saying that to spare my feelings. How did it go this morning?"

"It went," he responded, trailing a thumb over his son's features and giving a soft smile before carefully tucking the pictures back into the envelope.

"Did the public defender ever show up?"

Flack nodded and removed his arm from around her and bent over to slip the photos into her purse. "More than an hour late."

"And?" she asked.

"And I finally managed to get on the stand at quarter to ten."

"And you managed to testify and get here for the appointment?"

"It was just a pre-lim, Sammie. I just had to tell the facts and nothing but. Mac was just being called in when I left."

"And you saw Travis Cooper?"

Flack nodded.

"You're being very evasive about the whole thing," she remarked.

"I'm not being evasive. I'm just not talking about it."

"That bad?"

"You know how these things go, Sam. Crazy, hopped up junkie kills half a dozen people, tries to kill a cop and than walks into court all cleaned up and talking about how remorseful he is and how finding God during his short stay in Rikers awaiting trial has completely rehabilitated him."

"Well just because he says it doesn't make it true," she said with a snort. "But your part went okay?"

"For the most part."

She frowned. "What are you not telling me?"

He sighed. "Travis Cooper is going for a plea bargain. And it looks like the D.A is going to accept it."

"What kind of plea bargain?" she inquired.

"Guilty to six counts of manslaughter."

"That's a complete load of utter bullshit," Sam declared.

"Never fails to amaze me how the bad guys usually win," Flack lamented, shaking his head. "Guy should be finding his ass on death row. But unfortunately, I'm not a lawyer. Because if I was the DA, I'd be telling the defence to go fuck themselves and shove it up their ass."

"Which is why you're not a lawyer," Sam reasoned, rubbing his arm. "Because you have a heart and you get all riled up and that doesn't do any good in the courtroom. And what about my charge?"

Flack sighed. "He's going to plead not guilty to attempted murder of a cop. He's arguing that you didn't identify yourself as NYPD. Did you? Identify yourself as a cop?"

"He asked me if I was a cop and I said yes. That I was just there investigating the scene."

"Well because of his not guilty plea, you're going to have to testify and tell the court that."

She snorted. "What a bunch of crap."

"But we're not going to worry about that right now," Flack said quickly, stroking her thigh softly. "We're not even going to talk about work. We're going to talk about our baby and whatever else pops into our heads. Did you see any sports high lights this morning?"

"No…why?"

"The Rangers game was fucking awesome. You were out like a light by the third period and missed all the exciting stuff. It was tie three three and Jagr took the puck end to end and deeked out the Flyers defence. Boom. Top shelf for the go ahead goal. And it was this sweet ass backhander too."

"Did they win?"

"Hell yeah. Ended up getting two more goals in the last minute of play. They're going all the way this year, baby. I can feel it. I am telling you right now, my boys get to the cup final and I'm getting tickets and getting Kieran a little Rangers jersey and me and my son are going to watch the Rangers kick ass."

"He'll be what?" she asked, smiling at the thought. And at her husband's exuberance. "Five months old when the Final gets here?"

"And you're point? I've been giving him play by play since the beginning of the season. He's going to come out of there bleeding Rangers blue and red and knowing all the rules and the starting line up."

"How'd my Devils do?"

"Who cares about New Jersey? This is the Rangers, babe."

"Yeah? Well the cabbie I had this morning was a native of Jersey and was telling me that they're five points up on your beloved Rangers."

"That's a minute point. That's only because your boy Brodeur is on a tear. Five shut outs in a row. Team would be nothing without him. Rangers are solid from top to bottom."

"Whatever you say," she said, and leaned forward to snag the bottle of vitamin water from her purse.

"I am so hoping they go up against each other in the playoffs. Me and you can have some serious bets going on?"

"What kinds of bets?" she asked, holding out the plastic bottle for him to open.

"Dirty ones," he grinned. "Those are the best kinds of all."

He snapped the lid off the blackberry grape flavoured water and took a swig before handing it back to her. Grimacing at the taste. "So I had a really interesting talk with Mac before I went in to testify," he told her.

"Work related?"

Flack shook his head. "Personal. Mac and Stella set a date for the wedding."

"I know. She called me on the way here. She says there's something important she wants to ask me but wants to do it in person. We're meeting for lunch on Friday to talk about it."

"I think I know what it might be about. Mac asked me to be his best man."

Sam's eyes widened. "Wow…now there's something I never would have expected."

"Me either. We seem to be more at each other's throats lately than we are getting along."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I'd be honoured. After I picked myself up off the ground. That was something I'd expect from Messer if he and Erica ever decided to tie the knot. But Mac? That's just a little weird."

"Well he must think pretty highly of you to ask something like that. It's not something people take lightly. In that case, I am going to try and talk Stella into going formal so I get to see you in a tux."

Flack grinned. "I told Mac you were probably going to get onto the whole tux thing. Because of your whole spy fetish you have going on."

"My cop fetish so outweighs the spy one," she said, and pressed a kiss to the spot below his ear. "You know, you're a good man, Don Flack."

He smiled and slipped his arm out of hers and laid his hand on the back of her head and pulled her into him for a soft, tender kiss.

"I try my best," he said.

* * *

January 30th. That was the day that Sam was scheduled to have her stitches removed. February 10th was tentatively confirmed as Kieran's birth date. If she didn't go into labour by than, she was to come in to the hospital at eight in the morning on the tenth and be induced. It seemed so final now. Dates had been set and the end was in sight. But it was still a nervous, tedious road to hoe.

They had spent an hour at the maternity registration appointment. Signing consent forms and talking about the methods of pain control that would be employed because of her inability to receive an epidural. They were shown around the labour and delivery ward. An insightful and informative tour of the birthing room. The tub that was being used was double the size of a normal bathtub and had Jacuzzi style jets designed to hit the pressure points of the body to help control the amount of pain. Flack still wasn't sold on the idea of his son being born in the water. But he kept his thoughts and worries to himself when he saw how excited and into it his wife was. She wanted to do it and she was adamant about it and he wasn't going to hold her back or stand in his way.

The last stop on the tour had been the private room where she and the baby would stay, most likely for a couple days baring no complications. It was twice the size of their bedroom at home and had soft yellow walls and white wainscoting and crown moulding. A plush burgundy reclining chair sat by one side of the bed and three standard hospital chairs were lined up against the wall by the window. Along with the standard hospital bed, there was a small burgundy love seat parked in front of a light oak wall unit that held a twenty-seven inch television. Flack had joked, after seeing that and the private bathroom, that for a hospital room, it was better than most peoples' bedrooms and most hotels he'd stayed in.

They'd grabbed a quick lunch in the hospital cafeteria before he had taken Samantha home and than returned to work. The shift had passed by quickly with a multitude of calls that seemed to all happen at once and paper work that needed to be completed and other detectives' work that needed to be signed off on and handed in to the C.O. before Flack could even think about clocking out for the night.

It was quarter to eight by the time he finally arrived home. Physically and emotionally exhausted. Sam had prepared a simple yet rather delicious meal of pasta and chicken and salad. After dinner they had cuddled up under a blanket on the couch to watch a movie and had both passed out half way through and hadn't stirred again until well after midnight. They had dragged themselves to the bedroom and climbed into pyjamas and that was it. Asleep soon after their heads hit their pillows.

The shrill ringing of his cell phone woke Flack from a deep, peaceful slumber. His eyes snapped open and his rolled over onto his side to reach for the phone before it had a chance to wake Samantha up. For the first time in at least three months, she seemed to be in the midst of a comfortable sleep. On her right side, facing him, with her knees bent and a pillow tucked between them. Her long, dark eyelashes falling on her smooth, pale cheeks and her lips curved in a gentle smile.

His hand slapped down on his cell phone and he flipped it open and held it to his ear. "Flack," he answered simply, feeling and hearing Sam stir beside him. He glanced over at her and laid his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it softly, hoping to God she wasn't going to wake up.

"Yeah…Flack…it's Rick Santucci," came the voice on the other end.

"What you doing calling me personally?" he asked. "All calls go through dispatch first. I'm not even on call. And how'd you even get my number in the first place?"

"I know. But I was the first officer on scene and Danny Messer asked me to call you. Gave me your number."

"He asked you to call me? Why? What kind of scene is he involved in?"

"It's an accident."

"Hang on a second, Rick…I'm homicide, remember? I don't handle accident scenes unless there's probable grounds to suspect homicide. So put Messer on the phone so I can tear him a new asshole."

"I can't put him on the phone. That's what I'm trying to tell you. There's been an accident."

Flack immediately sat up. "At a crime scene?" he asked.

"On the way to a crime scene. With Danny Messer and Carmen Devine."

"What kind of accident?" Flack asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes and slipping out of bed. The phone held to his ear with his shoulder as he began a search for clothes.

"Car accident. They were on their way to a scene. Lights and sirens running. A car coming through an intersection attempted to stop but slid on the ice and t-boned them. On the passenger's side."

"Who was driving?" he asked, snagging a pair of jeans from his dresser and slipping into them.

"Danny was."

"How's Carmen?" Flack grabbed an NYPD sweatshirt from the closet and yanked it on.

"Both Danny and Carmen have been taken to Trinity. Danny's got what sounds like bruised ribs and a broken nose and a pretty nasty gash above his left eye. From air bag deployment is my best guest."

"Donnie?" Sam's voice. Tired and groggy behind him. Followed by the soft rustle of sheets as she sat up.

"What about Carmen?" Flack asked into the phone.

"Carmen?" Sam asked. "Donnie…what's wrong? What's going on?"

He ignored her. "Santucci?" he asked into the phone.

"All I know is that both Danny and Carmen will conscious and coherent when the EMS got them out of the vehicle. They're got pretty banged up and Carmen was complaining about abdominal pain, but that's all I really know.

"Driver of the other car?" Flack inquired, as he snatched a pair of socks from the top drawer of the dresser and sat down on the end of the bed to pull them on.

"Dead on the scene," Santucci reluctantly informed him.

"Fuck…" Flack sighed heavily. "You absolutely sure Danny had the sirens and the lights going?"

"I'm sure. Both were running when fire and blue and whites responded. Messer wanted me to call you and let you know what had happened and where they are."

"How long ago did this happen?" Flack asked.

"Accident was an hour ago. Took fire forty five minutes to get them out of the truck."

"An hour ago and you're just calling me now? Why didn't someone call me as soon as they got on the scene and found out who was involved?"

"Danny was worried about disturbing you and your wife," Santucci said.

"Yeah? Well Messer has a tendency to think with his ass sometimes," Flack grumbled. "Thanks for calling me."

"No problem," the officer said and promptly hung up.

Flack pressed end on his phone and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans and snatched his keys and wallet from the top of the dresser.

The bedside lamp flicked on. Revealing Sam sitting up in bed, her hair messy, rubbing at her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. "You've been called in?"

"There's been an accident," he told her. Going to the nightstand, he opened the top drawer and took out his badge and clipped it to the waist of his jeans. Just in case he needed some back up to get into see Carmen and Danny in the ER.

"What kind?" she asked, eyes widening in concern.

"Car accident. Danny and Carmen were on their way to a scene and got taken out by a driver ignoring the sirens. They're okay and being taken care of in Trinity's ER, but the driver is DOA."

"I'm coming with you," Sam announced, shoving the blankets off of her and carefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"No," he told her firmly. "You're not."

"But Danny and Carmen…"

"Are fine," he interrupted. "Their injuries aren't serious and they're okay. But you won't be going and getting yourself all stressed out and hyped up. I'm just going to check on them and than I'll be right home. I should be there, and back, in less than a couple hours."

"They're my friends, Donnie," she argued.

"I know. But as your friends, they'll understand that the best thing for you and the baby is to stay right where you are. In bed. Sleeping. And if you can't sleep, at least resting. Okay?"

She nodded reluctantly and slipped back under the covers.

"I will call you and let you know how things are," he promised, tucking the comforter around her. Laying a hand on her stomach, he kissed her softly. "Try not to get worked up and worry too much, okay?"

"Okay," she sighed.

"It's for the best and you know it," he told her, running a hand softly along the side of her face.

She nodded and kissed his palm before he left the room.

Sighing heavily, she lay down on her right side and nestled her head into the pillow.

Concern ate at her. But sleep eluded her.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Thanks to even the lurkers! I know there's lots of you! **

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall  
****Brttmclv  
****Madison Bellows  
****muchmadness  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Forest Angel  
****Laplandgurl  
****wolfeylady  
****Greg Rox  
****Soccer-bitch**


	100. Goodbye, hello

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**WOW, FOR A STORY I NEVER INTENDED TO WRITE, I CAN'T BELIEVE I GOT TO A HUNDRED CHAPTERS! THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT GUYS! I LOVE YOU ALL, BEG75**

**THIS CHAPTER, MOST SPECIFICALLY THE LAST COUPLE OF SECTIONS, ARE DEDICATED TO BRTTMCLV AND MUCHMADNESS**

**Goodbye, hello**

"And he cried  
there goes my life  
there goes my future, my everything  
I love you  
baby good-bye

He smiles  
there goes my life  
there goes my future my everything  
I love you, daddy goodnight  
there goes my life."  
-There Goes My Life, Kenny Chesney

* * *

Carmen had been moved up to a private room on the women's ward at Trinity General.

It was the only piece of information that Flack had been given when he showed up at the triage desk in the emergency room. After countless tries of getting the young charge nurses' attention, he had resorted to reaching through the partially open glass reception window to physically slam his fingers down on the cradle of the telephone. Abruptly putting an end to the woman's relentless late night babbling and gossiping to a friend. She then had threatened to call security on him if he didn't go in sit in the waiting area to be seen by her. By that time he was so annoyed and agitated and exhausted from being woken up from a perfectly decent sleep, that he'd taken his badge off his pants, shoved it in her face and told her to listen instead of yapping.

He found Danny Messer, his glasses long gone and a thick white bandage covering the nasty gash on his forehead, pacing the width of the hallway outside of Carmen's room with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Using his left hand. His right was laying across his torso and was held tightly in place by a sling. Blood stained the front of his simple grey long sleeve thermal style shirt and his face was contorted by both discomfort and worry. Flack noticed his best friend a distinct limp to his left leg and seemed to be favouring both his arm, and his chest.

Danny talked rapidly into his phone. Wincing every so often and muttering curses under his breath when the pain became too intense to bear. He nodded at Flack in greeting as the detective stalked down the empty hallway and joined him across from the closed door of Carmen's room.

"That was Mac," Danny said as he snapped his phone closed. "He's on his way with Speed. They were up at a crime scene in Long Island when they heard the news and haven't been able to get away 'til now."

"Weather's a fucking bastard," Flack told the CSI. "It's gonna take them a while to get here even with lights and sirens. Took me half an hour from my place and usually it's a ten minute drive from there to here."

"Sorry Santucci woke you up," Danny apologized.

"Don't worry about that. You should have called me a hell of a lot sooner. Like when it first happened would have been a good idea. You okay? What's the damage?"

"Got a separated shoulder," Danny gently lifted his injured arm for emphasis. "Broken nose, twelve stitches to my forehead and I twisted up my knee pretty good."

"You should be sitting down and taking it easy, Messer. Never mind that. You should have been admitted too."

"I was," Danny revealed. "But I discharged myself."

Flack shook his head in disdain. "You're a stubborn bastard, Dan-o."

"I'm fine. Nothing that won't heal. Fucking airbag did the most damage."

"Would have been worse if there'd be no airbag," Flack pointed out. "What about Carmen?"

"Doctors won't tell me a damn thing. All I know is that she was conscious at the scene and coherent. Split lip, bloody nose. Think maybe she had a broken arm and she was complaining about having pains in her stomach."

"Internal bleeding?"

"MRI ruled it out," Danny said. "There's an OB in there with her right now. Doing an ultrasound."

Flack frowned. "For what?"

"What do most OB's do ultrasounds for?" Danny asked. "Come on, Flack. Use your brain. I know it's early in the morning but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out."

"There's no way that Devine is pregnant," the detective said. "No way in hell. She and Speedle would have told all of us if she was."

"Maybe they just found out," Danny reasoned. "Haven't had the chance to tell anyone. And Carmen was sick there for a while and everyone just assumed it was that wicked flu that Adam passed around the entire place. Could have been something else entirely different."

"Could have been. But Carmen would have had least told Sam if she even suspected it. Those two tell each other everything."

The CSI shrugged, and immediately winced as pain shot through him. "Fuck," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"They at least give you something?" Flack asked, as his best friend laid his hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes tightly and struggled to breathe through the agony surging through his body.

"Couple Tylenol threes," Danny managed. "Definitely not doing their job."

"Come on," Flack put a hand around Messer's bicep and led the way to a chair several feet away. Assisting his friend in slowly lowering himself into the seat. "Want me to get you something? See if they can give you something stronger?"

"I'll be okay," Danny said. "Just need to breathe through it. It'll pass soon enough."

Flack sighed and ran his hands over his weary face and leaned up against the wall beside where the CSI sat with his head between his legs, willing the pain to pass. Practically pleading with it to just fuck off and leave him alone.

"I tell ya, Flack," Danny was near tears. "I don't know why it is that I have the shit luck. First those IRA Wilder bastards fuck me up and now this. I am telling you, I need to move on to a new career. Something with less excitement and torture. Maybe go and flip burgers at Mickey D's. Because this…this is not worth the money we make."

"I've been saying that every day since I got caught up in a building explosion and nearly died, Mess. And I am still doing the same job. So you are so preaching to the choir."

"How was Sam?" Danny asked, finally getting the pain under control and sitting up.

"She wanted to come with me. I made her stay home. She doesn't need to deal with any of this. Especially when she thought she was having contractions earlier. Midnight she wakes me up and tells me that she thinks the baby is on the way. I made her wait it out. Whatever she was feeling went away pretty quick and never came back."

"And now you have to come here and deal with this bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Danny. You're my best friend and my kid's godfather. I'm just glad that you're okay and it's not the morgue I'm visiting you in."

He gave a slight chuckle and leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I'd be the best damn looking corpse Hammerback ever had on his slab."

"You're a morbid bastard," Flack declared. "So what happened? You guys were on the way to a scene?"

Danny nodded. "Got a call to a suspicious death on the upper east side. We weren't two blocks from the lab when some stupid sonofabitch came through the intersection and BOOM."

"Lights and sirens?"

"Of course. We wouldn't be running reds if we didn't have the lights and sirens going. Driver was D.O.A, huh?"

"That's what Santucci told me. You just know IAB and collision reconstruction are down there right now trying to piece together what happened. And probably talking to everyone they can round up to confirm your guys' story."

"Our story? It's what happened, Flack. We were responding to a call, with lights and sirens going and the other driver came through the intersection completely disregarding them. He hit us. Not the other way around."

"Calm down, Danny. I'm not saying otherwise. I'm just telling you that that's probably what's going on right about now. And if…"

The door to Carmen's room clicked open softly, interrupting Flack mid sentence. He and Danny glanced over as a physician, his stark white lab coat a striking contrast to his dark skin and features, slipped out of the room. He was followed by a young female tech pushing a portable ultrasound machine.

"Detective Messer," the doctor nodded at the CSI.

Danny struggled to get to his feet. Flack stood up quickly and took his best friend under the arm and helped him the rest of the way.

"This is Detective Don Flack," Danny said, motioning to the taller, bigger man beside him.

"Doctor Harrison," the physician offered his hand. "You're the father?"

Both Danny and Flack blinked.

"Come again?" Flack asked.

"The father," the doctor repeated. "I've been waiting for you to get here so that I could go over the details of the miscarriage with you."

Flack shook his head to clear the cobwebs out. "She was pregnant?"

"You didn't know? She never told me that the father wasn't aware of the pregnancy."

"Whoa…whoa…" Danny held up his hand. "Slow your row there, kid…"

"Carmen was pregnant?" Flack asked in disbelief.

"I'm sorry," the young physician apologized sheepishly. "I honestly had no idea that you weren't aware she was with child."

"Back up for a second," Flack said, holding a hand up. "First, I'm not the father. And second, you shouldn't have just assumed I was and blabbed like that to us. I mean, don't you people sign patient confidentiality contracts when you start working here? You shouldn't be out here telling us all of this."

"So you're not the father?" the confused young man asked.

"Jesus H Christ," Flack shook his head and turned away from the doctor, chuckling slightly.

"No. He's not the father," Danny snapped. "Neither of us are. And you shouldn't be out here singing like a damn bird about her and her baby. What's wrong with you? And what the hell is this about a miscarriage?"

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you anything more."

"What!?" Flack laughed out loud in spite of himself. "You've already told us the basics! Why stop now?"

"What's this about a miscarriage?" Danny pressed. "You said something about a miscarriage so out with it already. What happened?"

"I'm sorry. I can't…"

"Tell us anything else," Flack finished. "We got it. Now get the hell out of here before I either strangle you or put you through a wall."

The young doctor blinked.

"Go!" Flack ordered and pointed towards the end of the hall. "Just go. And don't come back until the real father gets here. Better yet, don't come back at all. Get the OB on call to come down here to talk to Miss Devine's fiance. And explain to him what a fuck up you made."

"Detective, I…"

"Go!" Flack nearly bellowed. Than reached out and snatched the medical chart out of the doctor's hands. "And leave these here."

"You can't just…"

"Take them and read them? No. I can't. But I did. And trust me, me taking them is less painful than me subpoenaing you for them or filing a complaint against you with the Chief of Staff. So what's it going to be? You gonna argue with me or cooperate?"

The doctor sighed heavily and turned on his heel and stalked off down the hall.

"That's what I thought," Flack said snidely and flipped open Carmen's chart.

"What's it say?" Danny inquired, peering at the papers in the detective's hands. "Quit flipping through them like that and let me see what the initial exam says."

"Hang on for a second. I'm looking for something here…" Flack skimmed through the papers inside of the folder until he found what he was looking for. A faxed over copy of an initial pregnancy test and ultrasound examination. "According to this, Carmen was just over two and a half months," he told Danny. "She had an ultrasound three weeks ago to date the pregnancy."

"What?" Danny asked in disbelief. "And she never said anything? Why wouldn't she say anything? And why wouldn't Speed say anything? You would think he'd be going around bragging to everyone about it like you did. You know, that whole 'hey, look what I did' thing that you did for a while there."

"Maybe Speed didn't even know," Flack reasoned.

Danny snorted. "I find that hard to believe. She wouldn't hide something like that from him."

"You wouldn't think so. But then again, I…" Flack's voice trailed off as he got to the last paper in the file. Another copy. This time a letter signed by Doctor Lightheart. The same OB that Sam had been seeing since the beginning of her pregnancy. And the only way to get into that doctor was through a referral. Which only meant one thing.

"Isn't that Sam's doctor?" Danny asked, recognizing the name.

Flack nodded and flipped the folder closed.

"You think Sam knew? She knew and never said anything? You would think that she'd tell you."

Flack shook his head. "She wouldn't tell me if Carmen asked her to. Sam wouldn't betray Carmen like that."

"So what do we do now?" Danny asked.

"We sit on this," Flack held the folder up. "We sit on it and wait for Speedle to get here."

"And than?" the CSI asked.

Flack sighed. "I have no goddamn idea."

* * *

Samantha couldn't sleep.

She had tried her best to get some rest after Flack had left for the hospital but the effort was futile. Instead she slipped out of bed and wrapped the thick comforter around her body and padded out into the living room and sprawled out on the couch and flicked on the television. There wasn't much to watch at quarter to four in the morning so she left it on QVC and turned the volume down real low and tried to keep her mind from conjuring up the worst images and thoughts possible. Her main thoughts were focused on Carmen. She was worried about Danny, too. He was one of her closest friends and confidants and she dreaded the idea of anything bad happening to him. But he was a big boy that was more than capable of taking care of himself. Carmen on the other hand….

All she could think about was the child that Carmen was carrying. She was the only person that knew. Carmen had come to her a little over two weeks ago waning to know if she could put in a good word with her with her obstetrician. A decent doctor was tough to find that day and age and word of mouth was a powerful tool. Sam was happy to pass along the word that her friend needed the good doctor's services, and even more happy when the news was confirmed through blood work and urinalysis that Carmen was indeed expecting a baby. She had even bit her tongue and accepted her friend's decision when she had announced that she wasn't ready to tell Speed yet and gone along when Carmen had asked her to attend that first ultrasound to date the pregnancy. But she couldn't keep silent any longer when Carmen kept insisting it just wasn't the right time to break the news to the father of the baby.

Sam couldn't understand the hesitation. Having a baby was an amazing, joyous event. Scary and nerve wracking the majority of the time, but something beautiful and pure for two people to experience together. Carmen hedging on telling Speed he was going to be a father was mind boggling. They were madly in love and planning on sharing forever together. And after the whole ordeal with Mathew, news of a baby was that silver lining in a dark cloud that had seemed to be consistently hovering over their heads.

Carmen had argued that she just wasn't ready to tell him. In fact, she was terrified of telling him. He had, on more than one occasion, suggested that children weren't the number one thing on his must do list. He had even told her that anyone who thought about even bringing a child in a Godforsaken world like the one they were living in was out of their mind. Sam had told her that she was being ridiculous. People say things that were taken out of context all the time. Maybe his hesitation about having children was one of those things. After all, Flack had sworn up and down before she had come along that he would never get married and have kids. And now he had embarked on both huge, life altering events.

But Carmen had remained firm to not tell him. How she had ever managed to keep quiet about it while they were living in the same house, Sam would never know. But she had accepted her friend's ultimate decision and did what most friends would do. Backed off and kept her mouth shut even if she did adamantly disagree with Carmen's course of action.

Her main concern now was not only just Carmen's injuries, but the fate of that tiny baby and how finding out he was going to be a father under such strange circumstances would affect Speed. She knew for a fact that he'd be pissed off. More pissed off than he would have been just finding out from the very beginning. Speed had zero tolerance policy for liars, and Sam had gently reminded Carmen of that fact. And that keeping something so important from him would only cause them massive problems in their relationship. He could essentially walk away out of anger and spite. Carmen had simply shrugged and said that was her cross to bear and she'd deal with all of that if, and when, it happened.

Samantha only hoped that Carmen wasn't tossing the best thing in her life away just because of her paranoia.

Yawning noisily, Sam stretched slightly and was immediately rewarded with a strong, vicious kick to her bladder.

"You little shit," she hissed, wincing in pain. The sudden and powerful urge to urinate coursed through her and she pushed off the covers an slowly climbed off of the couch and made her way gingerly down the hall to the small bathroom.

The pains that she had been having earlier had unnerved her. She had the inane fear that she was going to give birth to the kid in the middle of the bathroom floor completely alone and terrified. A stupid fear, really. Because nothing happened that quick.

She had just flicked on the light when an excruciating, knee buckling pain hit her in the lower abdomen. She cried out in agony and had to place her hand on the wall to keep herself on her feet. Tears threatened, t wasn't a normal pain. Her brain told her that. There was nothing normal about it. She had certainly never experienced anything that brutal in the entire pregnancy. Not even with all the problems with the incompetent cervix. The pain was replaced by a burning sensation. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and she forced herself, at a snail's pace to make her way out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Her fingers grazing the top of her cell phone resting on the nightstand when a sudden rush of warmth flooded through her entire body and down her legs.

Please no, she thought, scared to look at the mess she now knew was now in a puddle at her feet. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. She wouldn't panic. She was determined not to freak out and find herself in raging hysterics and completely useless. Instead, she calmly opened her eyes and looked down at the mess of amniotic fluid that was tinged with bright red blood.

So much for ration and calm, she thought, as she scooped up her cell and began dialling the familiar number with trembling fingers.

* * *

Tim Speedle had been in the room for fifteen minutes.

And for the last ten there'd been nothing but furious arguing and raging tempers on both his and Carmen's parts. It had started out well. Speed and Mac had arrived at the hospital looking frantic and worried, and he'd asked his friends and colleagues to stick around while the head of the obstetrics department and the general physician in charge of her care had taken them all aside and into a quiet room to list of the extent of Carmen's injuries.

Two cracked ribs. A hairline fracture to the right ankle. A broken nose and multiple contusions and abrasions to her face and her neck. A slight concussion. Nothing life threatening and nothing that wouldn't heal on their own in their own due time. She'd be kept overnight for observation and released, if the physician felt confident about her condition, sometime in the early afternoon. The accident could have been a hell of a lot worse on both Carmen and Danny's parts.

Knowing the secret of the pregnancy had all but been killing Flack and Danny. After their initial discovery, they had tried hard to put it into their back of their minds and focus on other things. Until they found themselves watching and waiting, for the reaction that would come over Tim Speedle's face when the obstetrician informed him that with such an early gestation age and such trauma like the one that had occurred, there was no way his child could have possibly survived.

Flack and Danny had all but held their breath and watched Speed intently. Saw the way his eyes widened and he took a sharp intake of breath and stared at the specialist as if he'd suddenly grown another head.

"What child?" he had asked, in a quiet, calm voice that had unnerved Flack so much that he had had to leave the room.

The initial reaction of shock and disbelief that had come over Speedle's face had been enough to tell Flack that the man had not known his fiancee, the love of his life, had been pregnant. And Flack personally didn't want to be in the room to hear, or see, anything else. Instead, he'd gone down to the patient and family lounge and got three crappy coffees out of the vending machine and walked slowly back towards Carmen's room. Where he found the door closed once again, and Mac and Danny leaning against the wall.

"Put some booze in here I hope," Danny commented, as he accepted the less than stellar coffee from his friend.

"How long they been in there?" Flack asked, passing a coffee over to Mac.

"About five minutes," Danny replied, sipping the brew and grimacing. "This stuff tastes like crap."

"Well when you're ready to go, we'll stop by the café downstairs and I'll get us some real coffees before I take you home," Flack said.

"Home?" the CSI snorted. "I'm not going home. I'm fine. I'm going to the lab and getting some work done. Mac's swamped as it is and can't afford to spare me."

"I can't," Mac agreed. "But there's no way you're working in the condition your in, Danny. Flack's going to take you home and I'm going to go back to the lab and put in my time wherever I'm needed."

"Big boss man working as a lab rat?" Danny chuckled at the idea. "Haven't seen you do that in a while, Mac."

"Well we do whatever we need to. And what you need to do is go home and take some more pain meds and get some rest. The lab can survive for a few days without you."

"A few days?" Danny looked and sounded horrified at the thought. "Come on…I can't stay off that long."

Mac's eyes widened and he gave the younger man a pointed glare.

"Okay maybe I can," Danny sighed.

"How's Samantha?" Mac asked the homicide detective next to him.

"Still pregnant," he replied with a grin. Than immediately felt like an ass for saying it considering that Tim Speedle had just found out the most terrible news of his life.

"It's not your fault what happened to Carmen and Tim," Mac told him. "They lost their baby but yours is still very much alive and doing well. These things happen, Flack. We don't know why or how. We just know they do. How did the appointments go today?"

He shrugged. "Not much really to report. Baby managed to get himself turned around. Doctor gave us February 10th as Kieran's birth date. If she doesn't go into labour by than, we're going in in the morning and she's being induced. Had a little bit of a moment earlier tonight though."

Mac arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"Sam was pretty sure she was having contractions," Flack explained. "Last on and off for about twenty minutes. She was damn near panicking. I made her sit on the couch and wait it and out and they eventually just went away and never came back. I gotta admit. I may have looked calm and seemed in control, but inside? I was shitting myself."

"Just don't be fainting or anything in the delivery room," Danny said. "Last thing Sam needs is you smacking your head off of something and getting a concussion or needing stitches."

"She was just warning me yesterday…"

Flack was interrupted by the sound of Tim Speedle's furious voice exploding from inside of Carmen's room.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me!"

"I don't know…" she responded, in a loud, but shaky voice that gave away she was both crying, and frightened by Speed's outburst. "I just didn't think that it was the right time!"

"The right time! When is it ever a wrong time to tell someone they're going to be a father!"

"I was worried how you'd react!" she reasoned. "That you wouldn't…"

"I wouldn't what? Want the baby!? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Tim…please calm down…" Carmen begged.

"Calm down?! Calm down!"

There was a resounding crash as an unknown object was cast across the room. All three men waiting outside in the hallway jumped. A nurse tending to a patient in a nearby room, hearing both the argument and the noise, stuck her head out into the hallway and frowned.

"I don't want to have to call security on the NYPD," she said in warning.

"Than mind your own business," Danny suggested with a wry smile.

"This gets any farther out of hand, we'll be going in there to break this up," Mac told the other two men. "This is a hospital. These people are sick and need care and they don't need to be hearing Carmen and Tim have a lover's quarrel."

"How long did you know for?" Speed's voice. Fierce and demanding.

"Tim…"

"How long, Carmen!?"

Silence. Than ever so quietly, so that those in the hallway could barely hear: "Two and a half weeks."

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Speed roared. "You've known for two and a half weeks and never said anything!?"

"I was scared!" she cried. "Of what you would say! Of how you'd react!"

"How I would react! What the hell was there to be scared of?!"

"You told me not long ago that you thought anyone who wanted to bring a kid into this world was nuts! That it should be considered a form of child abuse for allowing an innocent baby to have to live in this corrupt and evil society!"

"I had just come off a marathon shift! I had just finished dealing with rapists and child molseters and woman beaters! I was ranting after a difficult day! And you took me word for word?!"

"You seemed so serious and adamant about it. And I was worried about telling you because of that and I wanted to find the right time to tell you!"

"The right time!?" he snorted. "Would that have been before or after the baby was born?"

"This is serious, Tim! I don't need your smart ass comments and you trying to be funny!"

"Funny?" he roared. "Does it sound like I'm trying to be funny! Does it look like I'm trying to be fucking funny!"

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I know I should have told you! I should have told you right away and for what it's worth I feel like shit and Sam told me right from the beginning to tell you!"

Mac's head snapped sideways and he looked at Flack. "Did you know?"

The detective shook his head. "When I took a peek at her medical chart, I saw that she had gone to the same OB as Sam a couple weeks back. And I know for a fact that it's nearly impossible to get into her and that you need either a reference from a doctor in good standing, like we had with Hawkes, or a friend of family member already a patient. So I put two and two together and figured Sam must have known."

"Samantha knew?"

Speedle's voice was lower now, but full of venom and disgust.

"I needed someone. Sam is pregnant and my best friend and she was already going through the whole OB thing so I knew I could go to her and get into her doctor. And I knew she wouldn't say anything to anyone. Not even Flack. I needed someone I could trust!"

"And you couldn't trust me!" he shouted. "I'm your fiance and you couldn't trust me! Does anyone else know? Does Mac know?"

"No…no one knows but Sam…Mac would never have let me out in the field knowing I was pregnant. You know that."

"So all because you're a lying bitch my kid is dead!"

Another loud clatter as Speed sent something else sailing across the room.

"My kid is dead because of you!" Speed roared. "Because of your negligence and your stupidity my kid is dead!"

"It was my baby too!" Carmen argued. "Not just yours!"

"Well you must not have cared too much about it to hide it from me and the rest of the world. Or is that just it? You didn't care about it and you were just hoping something would happen to you so you wouldn't ever have to give birth to it and raise it!?"

"What? No! Of course not! I wanted this baby! Your baby! Our baby!"

"Well there isn't a baby now, is there! All because you're a fucking idiot who never gives a shit about anyone other than herself!"

"I do care about other people!" Carmen sobbed. "I care about you!"

"But not enough to tell me that you were pregnant with my baby! This is your fault, Carmen! I hope your happy! Our baby is dead and it's all your fucking fault!"

"You don't mean that!"

"I do! I do mean it! Every single goddamn word! You lied to me! You lied to me and killed our baby and I will never, ever forgive you!"

"Tim…don't…don't leave!"

"I hate you, Carmen," he hissed, his voice close to the door. "I hate you and I never want to see you again! Ever! That baby is dead because of you! My baby! And for here on out, you're dead to me, too!"

The door flew open. With so much anger and force that the glass in the small window in the middle of it shattered as the door collided with the wall alongside of it. All three men waiting in the hallway were motionless and silent as a red faced and furious Tim Speedle came storming out.

"You knew didn't you," Speed hissed at Flack, pausing in the hallway.

"I didn't know anything," the detective said. "Not a damn thing until now."

"Your wife knew," Speed shook with anger and immense grief. "Your wife knew and she didn't tell you?"

"She wouldn't tell me anything that Carmen didn't want her to," Flack told the enraged man.

"Speed…" Danny took the brave step of approaching his friend and laying a hand on Speed's shoulder. "I am so sorry…"

"Don't…" Speed shoved Danny's hand off of his shoulder and took a step back. "Don't fucking touch me. Just…just leave me the hell alone…all of you…I never should have come to New York…"

"Don't say that Tim," Flack said, cautiously taking a step towards the CSI. "Look at all the great things that have happened here for you. Awesome job, amazing woman…"

"An amazing woman!" Speed laughed ruefully. "That fucking lying bitch in there!?"

"Don't talk like that," Danny scolded him. "That's crap talk right there. You love her. She loves you. She had her reasons. And I know it hurts like a fucking bitch right now, but the last thing you should be doing is talking like that and walking out on her."

"Go home, Speed," Mac suggested. "Go home and sleep on this and…"

"No," Speed said firmly. And reaching for his badge, unclipped it from his pants and held it out to Mac. "I quit," he announced. "That's it. I'm done."

"For fuck sakes, Speedle!" Flack shouted. "Don't be a fucking idiot! I know you're pissed off and hurt! Fuck, I would be too! But don't be going tossing everything away because you're pissed off and bitter! I know you feel like shit but get a goddamn grip on yourself!"

"You know how I feel!" Speed roared. "You know how I feel! You don't know fuck all, Flack! Your wife didn't lie to you like that! She wouldn't keep shit like that from you!"

"I know…but…"

"Your wife didn't kill your baby!" Speed continued, hot tears streaming down his face. "She didn't betray you like that and kill your baby! Your baby is still alive! Mine's dead and yours isn't! What makes you any better than me? Why does your kid deserve to live and mine doesn t?"

"I don't know," Flack said, shaking his head sadly. "It just happened, Speed…I don't have an explanation."

"Your kid is no better than mine!" he raged. "Mine deserved a chance!"

"It did," Flack agreed. "And I'm sorry that things didn't turn out better for you and your baby. But wishing mine dead to spare your own isn't going to bring your baby back, Speed."

"You don't deserve that baby!" Speed sobbed. "You and Sam don't deserve that baby! You weren't even in a proper relationship when that baby was conceived! Fuck, you're not even in a proper one now! You and your fucking joke of a dysfunctional marriage!"

"Look," Flack spoke rationally and calmly. "I know you're going through hell right now. Which is why I'm not I'm not beating your ass for saying that. And I also know that every nurse, doctor and patient in this place has been listening to what's going on and hurt that glass shattering and that someone has called security to come and haul your ass on out of here. And the last thing you need, is this hospital going back to the NYPD and telling them what you did here tonight. So why don't me and you go for a walk and you calm down and while talk about this. Before those rent-a-cops show up."

"Fuck them!" Speed bellowed. "Fuck them and fuck you!"

"Why don't you and I go and take a walk and you can cool down," Mac suggested, calmly attempting to diffuse the situation. He draped his arm across Speed's shoulders and led the younger man away. "Me and you can talk about this. I don't want you to leave anymore than you do. So let's go outside, grab some fresh air and talk about things. Okay?"

Speed sniffled noisily and wiped his eyes with the forearm of his jacket and allowed Mac to escort him down the hall.

Flack sighed noisily and rubbed the back of his neck as he shook his head. "Is this unreal or what?" he said to Danny, as they stood watching Mac and Speed disappear down the hall.

"I can't believe she never told him," Danny said. "Didn't give him a right to go off on her like he did and do the things he did and say what he did, but ya gotta feel for the poor bastard. You really think he'll leave?"

"Nah…he's just lashing out. Mac will calm him down. Talk some sense into him. Think we should go in there and try and talk to Carmen?"

Danny shrugged. "Worth a try, I guess."

They hadn't gotten two steps towards the door when Flack's cell phone rang noisily in the pocket of his winter coat. He'd forgotten to put it on vibrate, out of respect for patients, when he'd entered the hospital. He reached into his pocket and pulled his cell out and checked the call display. Danny noticed the immediate dread and worry that came over his friend's face.

Flack flipped his phone open put it to his ear. "What's wrong?" he asked into the phone. "When?…When did this happen?…what do you mean there was blood?…okay…Sam…Sam, just calm down…don't panic…listen to me very carefully…I'm on my way home. I want you to call Hawkes and ask him to come over, okay?…it's okay…don't cry baby…everything is fine…I know you're scared…just call Hawkes and I'm on my way…okay? I love you, too…bye…"

"What's going on?" Danny asked, as Flack flipped his phone closed.

"That was Sam…her water just broke…I gotta get home."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Danny laughed. "What else can happen tonight? You want me to come with?"

"You stay here," Flack told him, shoving his phone in his pocket as he hurried down the hall. "Take care of Carmen and I'll call you once anything concrete happens."

"Alright…hey, Flack!"

The detective cast a glance over his shoulder.

"Congratulations, daddy."

His best friend gave a huge grin and than disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Hawkes was in the kitchen when Flack stepped through the door. The ME turned CSI was leaning against one of the counters, the cordless phone pressed to his ear as he wrote feverishly on a pad of sticky notes in front of him.

"Her BP is 130 over 63," Hawkes was saying into the phone. "Pulse is 83. Fetal movement is strong and consistent…baby has dropped into the birth canal and is presenting head first as according to her last ultrasound taken yesterday…contractions are slow and steady, approximately twenty minutes apart…on my last check she was dilated to six centimeters…"

Flack ran his hand through his hair and paced the width of the small front foyer at the little piece of information.

"Amniotic fluid was free of meconium but tinged with blood," Hawkes continued. "Most likely due to the rupture of sutures in place to treat incompetent cervix..I don't believe she's on any medications…" he glanced at Flack.

The detective shook his head.

"Advice from her OB was to stay at home until the contractions were ten minutes or less apart," Hawkes said into the phone. "But like I said, my worry was the blood present in the amniotic fluid..I understand…but at the same time there's been problems with this pregnancy from the get go and we shouldn't be taken any chances…I will wait but I am telling you right now, if there's any bleeding or unbearable pain outside of contractions, I'm bringing her in myself and there better be a room ready for her."

He hung up and tossed the phone onto the counter and shook his head. "That was the L and D ward at Women's and Children's," he told Flack. "Under no circumstances are we to bring her to the hospital before her contractions are less than ten minutes apart."

"But what about the blood?" Flack asked.

"Most likely from tearing the stitches. When I checked her I saw no signs of any other blood."

"How's Sam?"

"Resting in the living room with Stella. We were coming back from a call in the Bronx when she called me. Judging by the how far she's already dilated, I'm guessing that birth is no more than two to three hours away. If not sooner."

"Jesus…is that normal? Going that quick?"

"Believe it or not, I saw women during my rotation that went from zero to ten in two hours. Doesn't happen often, but it is possible."

"But to not have any pain until now?" Flack asked sceptically.

"You can have contractions in your sleep and not even know it," Hawkes replied. "I'd say she's been going through it for at least four hours. Maybe even as long as six or eight. Would explain the back pain and slight cramping she told me she had earlier in the evening. And there's also a chance that her OB exam yesterday kicked started things."

"This is all just…" Flack took a deep breath and let out slowly. "Surreal. First the accident with Danny and Carmen and know this?"

"I called over to Trinity. Thank God they're both okay. I know they're your friends, but your main concern needs to be your wife and your child. And right now, she's resting quite comfortably on the couch."

"Thanks, Hawkes," Flack said. "For coming over."

"No problem. She's a great patient. I'll stick around until the L and D people kick me out. I'm trying to get as much fluids into her as possible. She's been vomiting off and on since I got here. We're timing her contractions. Try and keep her as calm as possible."

"Wish me luck," Flack said and headed for the living room, where Sam was stretched out on the couch, pillows propped behind her and her eyes closed. A warm flannel blanket wrapped around her and her hands resting on her stomach.

Stella was on the love seat, keeping one eye on a magazine and the other on her patient. She smiled at Flack as he came in and without a word, got up off the couch and left the room to give him and Sam some privacy.

He crouched down beside the couch and smoothed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She turned her face towards him and opened her eyes and managed a small smile. "Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey…how are you feeling?"

"Tired. And sore. Hawkes said that it won't be long until we have to go to the hospital."

"Time will tell," Flack said and laid his hand on her stomach and rubbed softly.

"How did it happen so quick? I felt pretty good all day and I only had a little bit of back pain and some cramps. Nothing major."

"Maybe the doctor started it off."

"Maybe…all I know is that this hurts…bad…and if it hurts this bad now, I will never survive actually giving birth."

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "You're a strong person. Tough little Brooklyn girl."

"Well it seems like my tolerance to pain has depleted. God! Did you feel that? All that moving around he's doing. Shit Donnie, your kid has ADHD already."

"So now he's just my kid?" he teased, stroking her stomach.

"Yep…whenever he does something bad…" she tried to sit up, but a sharp, intense pain took her breath away and caused to her reach for his hand and grip hard enough to actually hurt him. "Oh my God…" she cried and turned her face into him. "It hurts! It hurts so bad!"

"It's okay," he assured her, trying hard to hide the panic in his own voice. All the information he'd learned in the pre-natal classes just completely abandoning him. He smoothed down her hair and held her hand. "Just try and relax, baby."

"I am not ready for this!" she wailed. "I'm not…I can't do this, Donnie!"

"Yes…yes you can…"

"I'm scared…I'm so scared…"

"So am I. But you know what? I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere and we're going to get through this together. Okay?"

She nodded. Letting out a sigh of relief as the contraction passed. "How are Carmen and Danny?" she asked.

"What? Jesus Christ, Sam, who cares at this point in time?"

"Are they okay? Just tell me if they're okay."

"They're fine. Do me a favour and just worry about you and the baby."

"How's our patients?" Hawkes asked as he journeyed into the room.

Sam just shook her head and leaned back against the arm of the couch and put an arm over her eyes.

"Any more contractions?"

"A big one just hit," Flack told him. "She's in a lot of pain, Hawkes. Is there something you can give her to take the edge off?"

"The only thing I have him my kit is some morphine. The joys of being an MD, I guess. You can carry things like tha in your kit. But it's not my first choice for pain relief in pregnant women. We can try a hot compress on the back. Or massaging pressure points. That could relieve some of the agony."

"Anything," Sam begged. "Please…anything is fine…I just want…" she stopped mid sentence, moaned loudly and bit her lip as she squeezed Flack's hand once again. "Shit!…what is wrong with this kid?..seriously…I can't take this!"

Flack checked his watch. "Eight minutes apart," he announced.

"Time for us to go," Hawkes decided. "She's got a bag packed?"

"I'll go and get it," Flack said and stood up.

"No!" Sam cried. "No! Don't go! Please don't go!"

"I'm just going into the bedroom. Stella and Hawkes are with you."

She shook her head vigorously. "Don't go…please…stay here."

"I'll go," Stella said. "Where is it?"

"Closet in the bedroom," Flack replied. "One of those carry on suitcases. All the insurance papers and department benefit crap is in it all ready. Grab a pillow off the bed while you're at it? She's very adamant about having her own pillow."

"Hospital pillows suck," Sam declared through gritted teeth. "Oh God!" she wailed and rolled over onto her side. "This hurts! It fucking hurts!"

"It's okay," Flack rubbed her back soothingly. "Just stay calm…it's okay."

"It's not okay!" she snapped. "It's not! Someone is ripping my insides out of my ass! It's far from okay, Donald!"

"Shhh…" he ran a hand over her hair. "Just take it easy."

"Oh fuck you!" she yelled. "It's your fault this is happening!"

Flack and Hawkes grinned at each other.

"Try and stay calm," Hawkes said. "Can you sit up?"

"No…I don't know…I guess…"

Flack helped her into a sitting position and Hawkes slid a pair of slippers onto her feet.

"Your OB has been paged," Hawkes told her. "There's a room in labour and delivery waiting for you and the birthing tub is all fired up and ready to go. Flack, you're okay to drive the three of us there while Stella follows behind?"

He nodded and wrapped the blanket around his wife's trembling body and helped her to her feet. "You want me to carry you or can you make it downstairs to the car?" he asked.

"I'll be okay…" she said. "I'll be okay…WAIT!" she screamed. "No I won't!" she sobbed as she nearly doubled over in pain.

"This is happening really quick," Hawkes said, stating the obvious. "Stella!" he yelled through the apartment. "Call EMS!"

"Gotcha!" came her response.

"Sit back down, Samantha," Flack instructed.

"I'm not going to make it," she whimpered.

"Yes you will. Just breathe nice and slow and…"

"No! You don't understand, Donnie! I can feel it! The baby! I need to push! I have to push! The baby is coming. Right now! I have to push!"

"Hawkes…" Flack said, but the doctor was already springing into action.

Yanking a pair of latex gloves out of his pants pocket and snapping them on his hands and than made Samantha lie down on a blanket on the floor, while Flack, hands on his hips, paced nervously.

"I'm just going to check you, Samantha…" Hawkes said. "I need you to relax and take deep breaths…good girl…I know this is uncomfortable."

"I have to push!" she screamed.

"Not yet," Hawkes told her. "Don't push." He looked up at Flack. "The baby's head is already in the birth canal and she's nine centimetres."

"What?!" It was Flack's turn to freak out. "How in the hell is that possible!?"

"Fifteen minutes ETA on EMS," Stella announced as she hurried into the room.

"We don't have that long," Hawkes said. "I need towels, scissors, a bowl of warm water and some face cloths. Do you have a first aid baby kit?"

"In the nursery," Flack said, his hands in his hair. "Top drawer of the dresser."

Stella scurried around to gather up the supplies.

"This can't be happening," Flack muttered as he paced. "It can't be…"

"Sheldon!" Sam wailed. "I have to push! Please! I have to!"

"Flack, I need you to sit behind her so she's resting against your chest," Hawkes instructed. "Your job is to try and keep her, and yourself calm and talk her through this. This is going to be quick and unfortunately painful."

Flack nodded complacently and did as he was told.

"Not here," Sam was crying as she leaned against him, holding both of his hands. "It's not suppose to happen here. I'm scared, Donnie. I'm so scared."

"Everything's okay," he kissed the top of her head. "You're in good hands with Hawkes."

"This is embarrassing!" she exclaimed.

"Why's that?" Hawkes asked as Stella came rushing back in with the supplies. "I'm a doctor."

"You're my friend," she reasoned. "I work with you. And you're seeing my privates and delivering my baby! This can't be happening! Can't be…oh, God!…Sheldon!…do something!"

"When I tell yo to push, I want you to push for ten seconds," he instructed her. "All right? You can do this, Samantha. I know you're afraid and that's okay. Now on the count of three…one…two…three. Push!"

She bore down as hard as she could while Hawkes counted down the seconds. When he reached ten she collapsed back against Flack's chest.

"Again," Hawkes said. "Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…"

"Count faster!" she screamed.

"…five…four…three…two…one…good girl, Samantha. Stella, get Flack a wet face cloth to put on her forehead."

She nodded and dipped one of the cloths into the water and wrung it out before passing it to Flack.

"Call EMS and tell them what's going down," Hawkes told her. "Samantha…this baby is crowning…couple more pushes and he'll be out of there…when the shoulders get through, I want you to stop pushing until I tell you to start again. Okay? Deep breaths…and push…keep going…good girl…the head's out…STOP! Dad, you want to take a look?"

"Not really," Flack said, but took a peek anway. Emotion choked at him. Tears filled his eyes.

"I wanna see, too!" Sam exclaimed. "I wanna see!"

Hawkes took one of her hands and laid it on the top of the baby's head. "Can you feel that?" he asked, smiling. "That's Kieran's head. Lots of dark hair. I need the suction thing out of the first aid kit," he told Stella. "And put a towel on Sam's chest."

Stella zipped open the small pouch and took out the nasal aspirator and handed it to Hawkes. Than snagged a towel and laid it over Sam's chest while Hawkes suctioned out the baby's nose and mouth.

"Okay," Hawkes said. "One more push, mommy. Deep breath and push…almost there…keep going…keep going…"

A shrill cry erupted through the room.

"It's a boy," Hawkes announced. "A beautiful, healthy baby boy."

Flack couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He let them flow freely down his cheeks as he kissed the side of his wife's head, followed by her cheek. "Good job, baby," he praised lovingly "Good job. I'm so proud of you. I love you so much."

"Here you go, mom," Hawkes said, as he gently laid the baby on the towel.

"He's beautiful," Stella gushed, crying her own tears. "So beautiful."

"Hi, baby," Sam said through her tears. "Finally daddy and I get to see you. You just had to go and surprise everyone, didn't you."

"Dad," Hawkes held up the scissors. "Would you like to do the honours?"

Flack nodded.

Hawkes pinched off a spot on the umbilical cord to allow the new father to cut through it. The baby now quiet and content, snuggled into his mother's chest, big eyes taking in her face.

"He has blue eyes," Sam sniffled. "Like his daddy."

"And beautiful dark hair," Hawkes smiled.

"Looks just like dad," Stella declared. "His full name?"

"Kieran Shaun Donald Flack," Sam told her.

"Well welcome to the world, Kieran," Hawkes said. "Let me just wrap him up to keep him warm."

He wrapped a clean towel securely around the tiny naked body and lifted him tenderly from his mother's arms.

"Here you go, dad," he said, and laid the baby in his father's big, strong arms as tears streamed unabashedly down Flack's face. "Here's your son. Congratulations."

"Thanks," he managed. "It was…I don't know…amazing…it was amazing."

Stella smiled and rubbed his back comfortingly as father and son stared at each other in complete love and awe.

"Congratulations, Don," she said. "He's beautiful."

He smiled as Stella pressed a kiss to his cheek. Than he looked down at his new son and ran a finger tip down the baby's tiny nose. Complete with freckles splashed across it.

"Your mom carried you for nine months," he whispered as he pressed his lips to Kieran's forehead. "I'm going to carry you for the rest of your life."

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! And thanks to the lurkers too! I know there's lots of you! Please, please R and R people! **

**Special thanks to:**

**Brrttmclv  
****Hope4sall  
****muchmadness  
****Forest Angel  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Laplandgurl  
****Soccer-bitch  
****Greg Rox**


	101. Baby K

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND KIERAN FLACK**

**Baby K**

"Sleep my child and peace attend thee,  
All through the night  
Guardian angels God will send thee,  
All through the night;  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,  
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,  
All through the night.

Angels watching, e'er around thee,  
All through the night  
Midnight slumber close surround thee,  
All through the night  
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,  
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping  
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,  
All through the night."  
-All Through the Night, Sir Harold Boulton

* * *

Stella stood in front of the enormous picture window, her palms pressed up against the glass as she stood on her tip toes and craned her neck to get a look at the newborn at the very back room. While there were dozens other adorable babies bundled up tight in their bassinets, some sleeping contently and others wailing for a meal or a change, her attention was focused on one and one alone.

They had arrived at Women's and Children's close to an hour ago. The ambulance had finally arrived, fifteen minutes after Hawkes had successfully delivered the healthy infant, and had transported mom and dad and baby to the hospital while Stella and Hawkes, grinning like a Cheshire cat and adrenaline still coursing through him from his ordeal, followed behind in one of the lab's Avalanche's.

Baby Kieran had been taken immediately to the nursery to be cleaned up and examined by the pediatrician on call, while mom, exhausted and sore and too wound up to sleep, was taken to her private room where her OB would exam her and make sure she was in good shape following the unexpected and speedy delivery of her son.

Stella wanted to, and needed to, know exactly what was happening to her brand new 'nephew'. There were two smiling nurses at the side of his bed, one of them talking softly and sweetly to him while she dipped his tiny feet, one by one, into an ink pad before pressing each foot down on an identification card. She used a baby wipe to clean his feet while the other nurse wrapped a small plastic band around his left ankle.

The first nurse than left and went to a table at the very back were she proceeded to fill out paperwork while her colleague gently dressed the newborn in a blue and white stripped sleeper and slipped a matching hat over his full head of dark, wavy hair. Kieran wailed at that. Loud and strong enough that Stella could hear him through the glass. His reaction made his proud aunt laugh out loud. He already had a mind of his own and quite the temper. She wondered which parent he had inherited that from. The nurse was still smiling and talking calmly to the baby in her care, but Stella could see, as the young nurse fought off this tiny flailing limbs that the woman was slowly realizing she'd never come across such a little fighter.

"He doesn't want the hat on," Stella said out loud. Feeling the urge to knock on the glass to get the nurse's attention. "Take off the damn hat!"

"Window shopping?" a deep, familiar voice asked from behind her.

"He doesn't want the hat on," Stella explained. "And she keeps on insisting that he wears the stupid thing. Look at him! He's not happy. He doesn't want to wear it. Why won't they just leave the damn thing off?"

"Babies lose most of their heat from their head," Mac reasoned as he stepped alongside of his fiancee and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's just a precaution. So he stays healthy. It's freezing out and he did have that trip over here in the ambulance."

Stella curled her arm around Mac's waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "It was incredible moment, Mac," she said, feeling herself tear up once again. "Watching that, seeing him come into the world…it was an amazing thing to watch. I will never forget it as long as I live."

"I'm sure…and let's thank God you and Hawkes were able to get there in time."

"How do you know what happened?"

"I heard the call for an EMS over the PBR," he explained. "I recognized Flack's address and then heard you identify yourself to the dispatcher. I just assumed, because you were working with Hawkes tonight, that both of you were there."

"Hawkes was phenomenal," Stella gushed. "He was just cool, calm and collected and just took complete charge of everyone and everything. He did a great job, Mac. Kieran's here and alive and well thanks to him."

"How's the baby doing?" Mac asked, peering into the nursery, where the nurse was now swaddling the baby in a blue receiving blanket.

"No one's really said anything," Stella told him. "I'm assuming he's fine because he's in the regular nursery and not the NICU or the step down unit. A pediatrician was in checking him out as soon as we arrived and now the nurses are just cleaning him up and taking his foot prints and banding him before they take him down to Sam. He's beautiful, Mac. Big blue eyes and long dark eyelashes and all this black hair. And his freckles! He has Sam's nose and her freckles!"

Mac smiled at the excitement and pride shining in her eyes and evident in her voice. "So who does he look like? Mom or dad?"

"Oh he's a Flack all the way," Stella declared. "He looks exactly like his dad. No doubt about it."

"Where's the proud father now?"

"He's down with Sam. Her OB is checking her out and making sure she's okay. Can you believe this even happened, Mac? It just came about so quick. I just thought we'd go there, check on her and bring her here. I never imagined in a million years that I would be helping to deliver a baby in the middle of my shift."

"Just think of it as something else to add to your resume," Mac chuckled. "That will look great on paper. Helping to deliver a colleague's baby in the middle of a snow and ice storm."

"And in the middle of said colleague's living room floor none the less," Stella added. "It was just pure insanity. Everything happened so quickly it was like we didn't even get a chance to breathe. It was exhilarating. Such a rush."

"Maybe you should go back to med school and become an OB," Mac suggested and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Or even take courses to become a midwife."

"Are you crazy?" she laughed. "It was a beautiful, incredible thing to see. But I am perfectly happy remaining a crime scene investigator."

"Good," Mac said, and rubbed her shoulder. "Because I'm going to need my best detective, and my best girl, now that I'm down yet another CSI."

"Sam hasn't been in the field for months," Stella said. "And she probably won't be back for at least six. Flack told you that she was using some of that money from Zack and taking extra time off."

"I know. And I'm not talking about Samantha. I'm talking about Tim Speedle."

Stella arched an eyebrow and pulled back to look at Mac. "What about him?"

"He quit about an hour and a half ago. Handed me his badge after I tried repeatedly to talk him out of it."

"He quit?" Stella was astounded. "Why?"

"It's a long story. A long, personal story between him and Carmen that I'm sure, when she's up to it, Carmen will tell you herself. All I can really tell you is that Tim Speedle is gone. He's leaving New York ASAP."

"Do you know where he's going?" she asked.

"I'm assuming he'll head back to Miami," Mac replied. "But that's just an assumption. He may end up somewhere completely different."

"Does Carmen know?" Stella asked.

"She knows that he's out of her life. They got into a fight at the hospital and he walked away there."

"A fight? Why? Over what?"

"That will have to be something that Carmen tells you," Mac told her.

"Wow.." Stella shook her head in disbelief. "When it rains it pours. All of this craziness in one night?"

"Wasn't even a full moon," Mac joked lightly.

"God…I feel so bad," Stella said.

"For what?"

"Here we are so happy and thrilled over Kieran finally arriving and Carmen is going through her own personal hell. Getting into an accident and breaking up with her fiance? And Danny! What about Danny? Here I am going on and on about the baby and…."

"Danny and Carmen are fine," Mac assured her. "Luckily they escaped the accident with relatively minor injuries. They'll be out of commission for a while and I'll have to borrow some CSIs from Jersey and hire someone to take Speed's place, but everyone is alive and well and they'll be back to a hundred percent in no time. But this.."

Mac nodded in the direction of the nursery. "This is a joyous occasion, Stella. A new life entered the world. One that belongs to two people we love and care about. Kieran's a gift from God. And he deserves this night to be about him. And Sam and Flack deserve that. To have this night solely about their new son."

Stella smiled and nodded in agreement. "Don Flack a father," she said and shook her head. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Stranger things have happened," Mac laughed. "But not many."

"Be nice," Stella warned. "He's a proud, proud man at this moment, Mac. He can't keep the smile off his face. Or the tears out of his eyes. You should go down and see him. What with the issues he has with his own parents, you can be assured they won't be showing up here. And maybe you, I don't know, maybe you can fill some sort of gap for him. I'm sure he'd love to have someone with him right now."

"I'm not his father, Stella."

"No. You're not. But you're someone he looks up to and respects. And I know he'd love to see you and have you there. A father figure, Mac. That's what he needs. And I know you're capable, and willing, to give him that."

He sighed heavily and nodded. "I'm not really good at that kind of thing, Stella. What do I say to him?"

"Congratulations on the birth of your son is a good start."

"I've never had to deal with something like this before."

"And neither has Flack," Stella said. "He's a rookie, too. So you're two peas in a pod. Trust me, Mac, he'll appreciate it. Go down the hall, turn right at the first corridor you get two and go right to the end. It was branch out. Ward B and Ward C. Sam's on B. Go in there, register at the front desk and they'll lead you the rest of the way."

"And what are you going to do?" he asked, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"I am going to go downstairs to the gift shop and do some window shopping. And when it opens, I am going to buy my new nephew the biggest, fluffiest, cutest teddy bear in the place."

"And let me guess. You need money to do that?"

"Just window shopping at the moment, Mac. But I am dying for a coffee and something to eat."

"Buy some drinks and snacks for us and Sam and Flack. And Hawkes. Wherever he is."

"He's in with Sam and the OB."

"Well treat us all," Mac said.

She held out her hand and cleared her throat.

He sighed and removed his wallet from his back pocket. Pulling out two twenties, he pressed them into his palm. "You're going to put me in the poor house, woman. And be the death of me."

She laid a hand on the back of his neck and kissed him. Long and deep. "It's our turn next," she said, as she headed for the elevators, her curls bouncing as she went.

"For what?" Mac asked.

"A baby," she replied simply.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Stella?" he inquired.

"No…I'm trying to suggest something."

"That you want a baby," he concluded.

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Looks like you have some work ahead of you, Detective Taylor."

"Little bit of hard work never scared me off," he said.

She winked at him and disappeared around the corner.

Mac smiled to himself and glanced inside the nursery.

"A baby doesn't sound half bad," he said out loud.

* * *

Flack was in the corridor outside of Sam's room. His cell phone pressed to his ear as he made phone call after phone call. A permanent, beaming smile on his face that dimpled his cheeks and made his eyes sparkle. So ecstatic to be a father that he was calling anyone he could possibly think of to spread the news. He just went into the numbers stored into his cell and hit send and went through each and every one, not caring who he woke up and pestered and pissed off in the process. Everyone from the bail bondsmen that fed him confidential information on recently released prisoners that he kept on speed dial to a wide awake Jessica Angell working the night shift to Gerrard who had been furious to be woken up from a sound sleep.

It was quarter to six in the morning. Two hours had passed since he'd gotten the phone call from Sam about her water breaking. Almost an hour since his son had made his quick and unexpected entrance into the world. It seemed as if it had just happened five minutes ago. He could still remember every second of every moment of Kieran's birth. Still hear his son's first guy. Still feel that soft, delicate skin of Kieran's face under his fingertips. It had been the most incredible, mind blowing experience of his entire life. And as bloody and somewhat gory as it had been, it had honestly been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

His suit jacket and tie were long gone. Already stashed in the closet in Sam's room. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was physically and emotionally drained. Yet too wired to sleep. All he wanted was to see his son again and hold him. To touch Kieran's head full of dark hair and kiss his pale cheeks and realize that it wasn't just some crazy dream he was living in. That it had actually happened and his child was finally there.

Flack contemplated calling his parents. His mother would be thrilled to hear about the birth of her grandson but he was pretty sure his father would either not answer when he saw the number on the call display, or if he did happen to answer, hang up when he realized who was calling at that early of an hour. Instead he dialled another familiar New York City number and waited for someone to answer.

"Hello?" the groggy voice answered.

"Adam? It's Flack."

"Who?"

"Flack. You know Detective Flack. Don Flack. Your brother in law."

"Don?" the lab tech asked, sounding disoriented and confused. "What's going on? What time is it? Why are you calling me?"

"I'm calling you because Samantha had the baby. You're an Uncle now."

"I am?" Awareness and lucidity were creeping into his voice now. "When did she have him?"

"Sam had the baby?" Gus' voice, soft and tired in the near distance.

"About two hours ago now. We're at the hospital now, but she gave had him at home."

"She what?" Adam asked. "How? What?"

"Her water broke while I was at the hospital with Danny and Carmen. You heard about their accident, right?"

"Yeah…yeah Mac called me and told me…Sam had the baby at home?"

"About an hour ago now. When her water broke she called Hawkes and he came over just to check on her and ended up delivering Kieran on the living room floor."

"Are you fucking serious? On the living room floor? Are Sam and the baby okay?"

"Perfectly healthy and doing well," Flack said, feeling that grin spread across his face once again. He nodded at Mac in greeting as the older man came down the hall towards him.

"Thank God," Adam breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Is she allowed to have visitors before the official hours start because she's in a private room?"

"Her room is like staying in a hotel," Flack told his brother in law. "Couches and chairs, twenty-seven inch television. We can order in food if we want. There's no visiting hours on the ward so as long as everyone is quiet and none of the other patients get disturbed, it's all good."

"Well give Sammie and Kieran a huge hug and kiss for me and I'll be there as soon as I can," Adam said excitedly and hung up.

Flack grinned and flipped his phone closed. "Poor Adam," he said to Mac, shaking his head. "Biological uncle and he's the last person I remembered to call."

"There's a lot of stuff racing through your mind," Mac reasoned. "Things are all mixed up and swirling around together. No one will fault you for a momentary slip. Although I think it's best you let on he was the first person you called."

"Good idea," Flack agreed and slipped his phone into his pants pocket. "That was just fucking insane, Mac. The whole thing was just insane. Start to finish. Sam's water breaking and her delivering less than an hour later? Crazy. Watching her give birth to my son on the living room floor with Hawkes delivering and Stella playing nurse? Madness. Sheer madness."

"At least it all worked out well," Mac said. "Mom's fine? I just saw baby down in the nursery giving a couple of nurses a hard time."

"That's my boy. Causing hell already. Sam's going good as far I know. Doctor just went in with Hawkes about twenty minutes ago. I got eighty-sixed to the hall. Something not right about that, Mac. Hawkes gets to take a peek at my wife's goods and I can't? There's something weird about that."

The older man chuckled. "I hear he did a hell of a job."

"He was incredible. God bless him. He just took control and handled it from start to finish. I tell ya, seeing him in action like that, I have a whole new respect for that man."

"How'd you do?"

"I didn't faint. That's a miracle right there."

"And Sam?"

"She was amazing, Mac. She was in a lot of pain. More than either of us expected her to go through. She did a great job. And seeing her, going through all of that just to bring my son into the world…" his voice trailed off as emotion choked at him. He shook his head and put a hand over his eyes.

"It's alright, Don," Mac assured him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's a surreal, magical thing that you witnessed. Something you'll never forget as long as you live. Feeling like this…it's normal."

"Just seeing that, Mac," he removed his hands. Tears slipped down his cheeks. Unashamed. "Watching her go through that. All that pain and agony just to give me a son. She was so strong and so brave and so unselfish to go through that and I've never respected her and loved her more than I do now."

Mac smiled and rubbed the younger man's back.

"And that baby…Kieran…he's my boy, Mac. My son. And every time I say it I almost can't believe it. I can't believe he's here. After all the scares we had and the times we thought we were going to loose him. And he's made it and he's here and it justs so unreal to me."

"You and Samantha did a good job," the older man told him. "You brought that little guy into the world safe and sound. Both of you did that. It took the two of you to make him and it will take the two of you to raise him. And you should be proud of yourself, Don. For how much you've grown up. You took on two monumental, life altering things in such a short period of time. And you did a hell of a job with both of them. And you should be proud of yourself. I know I am."

"You just had to go and get me all emotional again, Mac," Flack complained and fought to hold back the tears.

Mac reached out and drew the younger, much taller and stronger man into a tight, fatherly hug. "Congratulations, Don.," he said.

"Thanks," he sniffled and returned the hug. "Just seems so unreal, you know?"

Mac nodded and released the homicide detective. "You're going to be fine. As a father. You've got all that love inside of you, Flack. I see it every time you so as much look at your wife. And your son has a great life ahead of him with the two of you as his parents."

"I hope so," Flack said, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "I don't want to be a total fuck up to him."

"You won't be," Mac assured him. Than smiled at Hawkes as he slipped from Samantha's room followed by whom Mac assumed was her obstetrician. "I heard you did a hell of a job, Doctor Hawkes," he said, extending a hand to his CSI.

"It was nothing," Hawkes said modestly, shaking his boss' hand. "Samantha did all the work. She was a fantastic patient and the baby was very cooperative."

"I couldn't have done a better job myself," the physician laughed. She held her hand out to Mac. "I'm Doctor Lightheart. Samantha's obstetrician. Are you the grandfather?"

Hawkes smirked. Flack couldn't resist laughing out loud.

"I guess I could be," Mac said, chuckling slightly and not taking offense and handling it in his usual calm and cool demeanor. "If I was fourteen when I became a father to Samantha."

"This is Detective Mac Taylor," Hawkes told the doctor. "Hes the head of the New York City Crime Lab. Mine and Samantha's boss."

"I am so sorry," she blushed furiously as Mac shook her hand.

"No harm no foul," he assured her. "So how are Samantha, and my grandson, doing?"

"Samantha's doing exceptionally well for someone that gave birth phenomenally quick and unexpectedly. Her blood pressure is a little high so we've given her some medication to bring it down along with a mild pain killer and antibiotics to combat the pain and possible risk of infection from tearing of the stitches."

"She's planning on breastfeeding," Flack told the doctor. "She can still do that and be on those meds?"

"They're safe for the baby. Nothing will harm him. I'm going to keep her in for a couple of extra days to keep an eye on her cervix. Just to be on the safe side. Certainly not the delivery either of you had planned."

"Home birth with one of my closest friends delivering?" Flack asked. "That didn't even cross my mind in the slightest."

"Well all of you did a fantastic job," she praised. "Congratulations, Detective Flack," she said, offering him her hand.

"Thank you," he said with a smile and shook her hand. "I can go in now?"

"I know you're dying to. She's all your's. Her blood sugar is a little low so I have the nurse bringing her some juice. And she's spoken to a lactation consultant? About not expecting much more than colostrom for the first twenty-four hours? If the baby's hungry we'll supplement with formula. Did she have one picked out?"

"All I know is that the stuff we have at home is twenty-six bucks a can and it's organic or soy or some crap like that. Iso-something."

"Isomil. It's a soy formula," the doctor confirmed. "I'll let the nurses know. I'll be back in the later morning to check on Samantha. Congratulations again, detective."

"Thank you," he said, and as she walked away, turned to Mac and Hawkes with a heavy sigh. "Well, I guess the next eighteen years of parenting hell has officially begun."

"You'll be fine," Mac assured him.

Flack reached for the holster still attached to his right hip and unhooked it from the waist of his pants. Removing it and his badge had been the last thing on his mind. He held the holster, gun still securely inside, out to Mac. "You mind keeping this locked up in your desk until I can to the lab and get it from you?" he asked. "I should be around in a couple of days. Gerrard wants me to get some stuff done before I go on my two weeks."

"Not a problem," Mac said. And decided now was not the time to break the news of Tim Speedle's departure. Flack was on cloud nine with the birth of his son and deserved to revel in that spotlight for the time being. "If Sam's up to it, Stella and I would like to pop in for a bit. And someone should call Danny and Carmen."

"I'll do it," Hawkes offered.

"Thanks again, Hawkes," Flack said. "For coming when you did. For taking such good care of Sam and the baby."

"It was no problem," Hawkes said, and the two men embraced warmly "Congratulations, daddy," he called, as the detective crossed the hall and reached for the handle on his wife's door.

He gave them that beaming, boyish smile and disappeared inside.

"Hell of a night," Mac commented to the CSI beside him.

"Best night of my life," Hawkes declared.

* * *

She was sitting up in bed. Her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady. Catching a small bit of rest before the nurse brought the baby to bunk with her in the room. At first she had considered having him taken care of by the professionals in the nursery. Taking care of newborns was what they were paid pretty good money to do and it wasn't a far walk and she could down anytime she wanted to see him. But the thought of being away from her son, especially during the first hours of his life, was heartbreaking to her. She wanted to hold him and cuddle him and tell him she loved him. Get to know him. Because despite nearly nine months of carrying him, Kieran was virtually a stranger to her.

She heard the click of the door and she opened her eyes and glanced over. A soft smile appearing on her face at the familiar face coming into her room.

"Did you see him?" Sam asked. "Is he doing okay?"

"I stayed a little bit down in the nursery and they let me help out giving him his bath," Flack replied, crossing the spacious room to stand at the side of the bed. He leaned down and kissed her softly.

"And how did that go?" she asked.

"He freaked out the entire time," he told her, a grin on his face as he ran his hand over her hair and along the side of her face. He was in complete awe of her after witnessing what he had. And he kicked his own ass for ever doubting that she'd be able to do it.

"So he already has a temper," she concluded. "Boy, I wonder who he gets that from."

"He only gets his stunning good looks from me."

"Yeah right," she said with a small laugh and accepted another kiss. "He's okay, though? I mean, he looks okay? There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him? Does he look…" she searched for the right word.

"Normal?" Flack asked. "You mean does he look like he has something the matter with him?"

She nodded. "I know that's horrible to say but I couldn't help but worry that maybe the doctors missed something when they said everything looked okay and I was hoping that.."

He silenced her by pressing a kiss to her forehead. "He looks fine," he assured her. "Better than fine. He's beautiful, Samantha. And he's obviously healthy or he wouldn't be screaming and putting up such a fight over everything. If there's anything wrong with him, I'm sure either the pediatrician or the nurse will tell us when they bring Kieran down. The doctor was just checking him over when I left."

"But he looked okay? I mean you saw him and you'd notice if someone was wrong with him, right?"

"Samantha, he looked fine. I'm not exactly and expert on babies but he looks great. Just relax. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Now move over a bit.If I'm here for the long haul I might as well be comfortable."

"There's two couches over there," she said, pointing across the room as she shifted sideways in the bed. Twice the size of an average hospital bed, it was big enough to fit two people quite comfortably.

"Might as well be in another time zone if I go over there," he argued, and toeing off his shoes, climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. "How are you feeling? Are you feeling okay?"

"I don't know," she admitted sadly.

"What do you mean you don't know? You mean you feel tired? Sick? What?"

"I feel…I don't know…I feel sad."

"Sad? What are you sad about?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Because I'm happy and excited he's here but at the same time I'm sad that it's over. If that makes any sense."

"I would have thought you'd be happy it was over. Especially with all the problems you had and how uncomfortable you were."

"I am," she said. "Because it was long and tiring and felt like it was going on forever. But at the same time I'm sad he's not inside of me anymore and I can't feel him moving around and kicking me. He was in there for so long and now he's gone. And I feel so empty."

"Come here," Flack pulled her closer and tighter against him when tears spilled down her cheeks. "It's okay, baby. It's okay to feel sad and all of that. But he's not gone. He's here now. It's what we've been waiting for all these months. And we get to love him and take care of him for the rest of his life. And that's an amazing feeling. And a little scary. Even I have to admit that."

"You're scared too?" she sounded surprised

He nodded.

"What are you scared of?" she asked, turning her golden eyes up at him.

"I guess I'm scared of being a major fuck up as a father," he replied, using his thumbs to gently clear the tears off of her face. "I didn't exactly have the best role model to pattern myself after."

"You're nothing like him, Donnie. Even if I have been a royal bitch by suggesting it once or twice."

"Four times," he corrected her, grinning.

She frowned. "You kept a running count on things like that?"

He nodded.

"You're mean," she declared. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For everything. For Kieran. For getting me through giving birth to our son."

"I didn't do anything, Samantha. You did all the work. And you were amazing. You did a great job. I\m really proud of you, you know that? Going through all that to give me a child? It was incredible to see."

She smiled. "And you didn't even faint or puke."

He chuckled. "By the grace of God. I thought I was going to be sick there for a bit. But I survived."

"I was so scared," she said. "It was all happening so quick and I was terrified and you were so brave."

"Brave?" he snorted. "I wasn't brave. I was scared shitless."

"Well you didn't show it. You were so calm and collected during the whole thing. All I had to do was listening to your voice and hold your hand and I knew everything was going to be okay."

He smiled and hooking a finger under her chin, pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. "We made it, Sammie," he said, and pecked her forehead. "Can you believe it? It's over now. All those months of waiting. I mean, we're parents now. Your mommy and I'm daddy. Doesn't that just seem insane to you?"

"A little. We became husband and wife and parents in less than a month. Isn't that just totally surreal?"

"Just a little," he admitted. He kissed her once more and gathered her close to his side. "So when do we get this kid so you can get to changing some diapers?"

"As soon as they're finished doing whatever it is they're doing to him the nurse said someone would bring him down. Are you staying here?"

"You have to ask that? Where would I go? You just gave birth to my kid. I want to spend as much time with you, and him as possible. So whether you like it or not, me and you are roomies. Mac and Stella are going to want to see him. And you're brother is on his way. If you're not up to company…"

"No. That's fine. I'd like to see everyone. What about Danny and Carmen? And Speed?"

"Hawkes is calling Danny and Carmen and if they feel up to it, I'm sure they'll come once Carmen is released from the hospital. And before you ask, they're fine, yes I know that you knew Carmen was pregnant and no, I'm not mad at you for not telling me."

"And the baby…"

"Why are we talking about this right now?" Flack asked. "We just had a baby. Why can't we talk about him and screw everyone elses problems for once? You and I are always around for everyone when they need someone to fix shit in their lives. Why for once can't we enjoy something and have a time devoted just to us without having someone else overshadow is with their stupid crap?"

"I just want to know if she's okay. If her and the baby…"

He sighed. "Carmen lost the baby. And her and Speedle got into this massive fight and he handed his badge to Mac and it's just a big goddamn mess."

"She lost the baby?" Tears welled in Sam's eyes as she pulled back to look at her husband.

"See! This is exactly what I meant. This should be the most amazing time of our lives. We just had a baby and you're all worried about someone else and their issues. Jesus, Sam. For once can we not have something all for ourselves?"

"Of course. It's just…that's so sad."

"It is. But that's Carmen's road to hoe. Not ours. And I feel bad and I hope shit works out for her and Speed, but it's not my problem. I just want to spend time with you and my new son. Can we just worry about us for a change?"

She nodded. "I can't believe…"

* * *

She was interrupted by a loud knock at the door followed by a short and plump nurse with her grey hair tied back in a bun and wearing a brightly coloured scrub set that boasted Tweety Bird.

"Mr and Mrs Flack? I have your son. Is it okay to bring him in?"

"I don't know," Sam nearly wailed. "I don't know I'm ready to be alone with him."

"All new mothers say exactly that same thing," the nurse assured her, smiling her appreciation at Flack as he got off the bed and hurried to the door to hold it open for her.

"I just don't know if I'll know what to do," Sam lamented.

"Well we're always here if you need us," the nurse assured her. "I'm sorry it took so long," she said, as she wheeled the baby in his see-through plastic cot that reminded Sam of nothing more than a large pyrex dish. Below the cot itself was a cabinet with doors that concealed four small shelves that held various necessities. She brought it up along side of the bed. "He's quite the character," she told Sam, who was peering into the little bed with a mixture of awe and terror. And a little disappointment that despite her adamant request that he not be given a soother, Kieran indeed had one in his mouth.

"I didn't want him having one of those," she said. "I didn't want him getting confused when it came to learn how to breastfeed. And I didn't want the head ache of trying to get him off of it when he's two and insisting he needs it."

"We didn't have much of a choice," the nurse told her. "He's quite the handful. He fought us every step of the way and the a soother was the only thing that would calm him down."

"You can just say it you know," Flack said. "You can just say it was the only thing that would shut him up. I heard him down there."

"He's one of the more vocal babies we have," the nurse laughed.

"Gets that from his mother," Flack told her. "Trust me."

"Well he looks just like his father," the woman declared. "He may be a loud one, but he's just a little darling. Now the pediatrician checked him over. There was a small concern with his APGAR scores."

"What's that?" Flack asked, taking a seat on the edge of his wife's bed.

"It's a just a quick test doctors use to asses a newborn's healthy shortly after birth," she answered, opening the cupboard under the cot and taking out a clipboard stowed inside. "It's usually done five minutes after birth, and if the score is low, we repeat it. In Kieran's case, because he was born at home, the doctor assessed him when he arrived on the ward."

"And what does this test include?" Flack inquired. He didn't want anyone doing anything to his kid that he didn't understand, or know about.

"It's an observation of the baby's skin colour and muscle tone along with his heart rate, reflexes and breathing. Five things, two points for each. Kieran's was at a four when he was first assessed."

"And?" Sam asked, sounding scared. "That's bad, right?"

"He was having a little bit of a hard time catching his breath," the nurse said. "When he cried for a prolonged period of time, we noticed he turned blue and started wheezing and coughing."

"Why?" Sam was looking at her new son, bundled up securely, his blue eyes wide open as they took in his surroundings. His face was healthy pink colour and his breathing sounded fine to her.

"The doctor wasn't sure. But he listened to your son's chest and it sounds clear. We gave Kieran a bit of oxygen and repeated the score and he was seven. Five minutes after that, we did it again and he was a nine."

"So is it something serious we need to keep an eye on or was it just a passing thing?" inquired Flack. "Is it a sign of a bigger problem?"

"It hasn't happened again, but the doctor may want to order some x-rays or an EKG."

"For what?" Sam asked. "Is he sick?"

"We just want to make sure it isn't something we need to worry about," the nurse assured her. "Sometimes it's a sign of congestive heart failure or…"

"What!?" Sam cried and promptly broke down into tears.

"It's just to rule things out," the nurse said, laying a hand on the young woman's back and rubbing it comfortingly. "He's a very healthy little boy by appearances. But we just want to be a hundred percent sure. You don't need to worry yourself about it. He's doing just fine right now."

"But what if he does that and I don't know what to do? Or he stops breathing or turns blue? What do I do?"

"Sam, we both know CPR," Flack reminded her gently. "And this is a hospital. Lots of doctors around, babe."

"If something like that happens you just use your emergency call button and someone will be right here," the nurse told her. "He's doing very well. Would you like to hold him now?"

Sam nodded and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her hospital gown. "I'd like to put my own pyjamas on too," she said.

"We'll do that later," Flack promised. "Don't worry about stuff like that right now."

The nurse passed him the clipboard. "If you'll just sign the forms, dad. I'll let mom hold her little guy. Than I'll give you your ID bracelets. There's a serial number on each braclet that matches the number on the baby's. All three have to match to allow us to discharge the baby. And before you are discharged, you can sign the statement of live birth you need to apply for his birth certificate."

"Who knew it was so complicated," Flack commented, as he turned his attention to the papers in front of him.

"There's a lot that comes with having a baby," the nurse agreed, and gently lifted the tiny baby from his bed and placed him in his mother's arms. "You could try feeding him if you like. I've put bottles and some ready prepared formula along with diapers underneath. If he doesn't take to the breast, you can try some formula."

"Okay," Sam sounded apprehensive and nervous. "He's beautiful," she gushed, smiling down at her new baby. He was so innocent. So perfect. Everything she had ever imagined he would be and more. She plucked the soother from her son's mouth and untied her gown at the back of her neck. "I'm a little freaked out here," she admitted.

"All new moms usually are," the nurse said with a smile. "Here…let me help you…just lay him along your forearm and hold the back of his head and let's see what he can do."

"I feel like a moron," Sam mumbled.

"You're doing just fine," the other woman praised. "See, he knew exactly what to do. Now he might not get much or want to nurse long. So just be patient."

Flack finished filling out all of the necessary information and adding his signature to the bottom of each page. The nurse took the clipboard back and then wrapped a plastic ID band around each of the parents wrists.

"Now tomorrow sometime in the early afternoon, we ask you bring the baby to the nursery to be weighed," the nurse told them "Just to keep in eye on whether he's gaining or losing. And don't get too upset if he does lose. That's not uncommon in the first days of life. There's an infant tub and face cloths and towels in the bathroom for you to give him a bath. If you're nervous or unsure about anything, just give the nursery a call and someone will help you out. Okay?"

"I think so," Sam answered, unable to take her eyes of her baby. Sheer love and awe and wonderment in her eyes.

"Enjoy, mom and dad," the other women said as she headed for the door. "He's a beautiful baby. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Flack said, than turned his attention back to his wife and son. He had honestly never seen anything so incredibly beautiful as the sight of the two of them together. The adoration in both mother and child's eyes as they never broke contact with each other. "He's doing okay?" he asked, as he slipped back into the bed beside her.

Sam nodded and smiled. "He's a natural. A booby man just like you."

Flack grinned. He pressed a kiss to his wife's shoulder and wrapped his arm around her. Pulling the two most important people in his life tightly and protectively against him. "I love you so much, Samantha," he said, his lips against her cheek. "You're so beautiful and so amazing and I love you so much. Both of you. I love both of you."

"We love you, too," she said, and broke eye contact with her son to look at her husband. She kissed him softly and they smiled at each other before they both turned their attention to their little miracle.

Flack reached out to pluck the hat from Kieran's head. Check out all that hair," he said with a small laugh. "And you wonder why you had so much heartburn."

"He's just beautiful," Sam whispered and pressed a kiss to her son's thick, dark hair. "Everything about it. We did good, Donnie. Didn't we."

He smiled and laid a hand on the back of her head and kissed her temple. "We did amazing," he declared.

* * *

Stella, Mac and Hawkes spent a half an hour visiting. Stella couldn't get enough of the new baby and refused to put him down despite numerous insistence's from Mac that Kieran would much rather be spending his first hours on earth with his parents and not with his Aunt Stella. She'd have more chances to shower him with kisses and affection. Mom and dad deserved the time with their pride and joy. And, by the looks of their weary faces and the sounds of their yawns, that they could use some sleep.

Which was exactly what they did once the small group of guests departed. Flack closed the blinds on the windows and turned off his phone and placed a now sleeping Kieran back in his cot before climbing into bed with his exhausted and still teary wife. Careful to watch the IV lines inserted in the top of her right hand, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her and told her he loved her and was proud of her. And before they both knew it, they had drifted off into a blissful sleep.

It was Flack that heard it. The soft whimpering cry emanating from the cot parked by the side of the bed. His eyes immediately snapped open and he glanced over. Kieran was awake. He was making a tiny sound that reminded Flack of the mewing of a kitten and flailing his tiny arms around. He had somehow managed to wriggle the top half of his body out of his swaddling and didn't sound too happy about the whole thing.

Flack wasn't sure how long they'd actually been asleep. Just that he still felt fuzzy headed and exhausted and wanted nothing better to do than just close his eyes and continue on with his previous activities. But one look at his sleeping wife encouraged him to be the one to take care of the baby this time around. She looked peaceful with her dark eyelashes falling on her cheeks and a soft smile on her lips. He didn't have the heart to wake her. So, he decided, as he slipped out of bed, as long as the kid didn't start crying in earnest, it was time for him and his son to get to know each other better.

"Hey, buddy," he whispered as he approached the cot. "It's okay…don't cry. You can't possibly be hungry. That was a pretty good meal you had earlier. Why don't you and I take a little walk and let your mom get some sleep?"

He scooped the baby up confidently and cradled Kieran gently along one arm. He couldn't get over how tiny his son was. He'd never seen anything that tiny before in his entire life. And he couldn't get over how utterly perfect it felt to be holding this amazing miracle in his arms. How amazing it felt when he thought that he was now a father. This innocent creature was totally dependant on him. And he'd never felt that much unconditional and undying love before.

"That's your mommy," Flack said to his son, as he paused by the side of the bed. "Isn't she beautiful? She did an amazing job bringing you into the world. One day, you're going to grow up and meet some really pretty, incredible girl just like her that's going to make you unbelievably happy just like your mommy has made me. But don't go rushing into things. Don't just settle for the first girl that comes along. You make sure that she's the one you really, really want to spend the rest of your life with."

Kieran, now quiet, stared up at his father with his huge blue eyes.

"Trust me, kid. Waiting for that one is so worth it," Flack continued, as he carried his son around the dimly lit room. "You'll never regret it. Forever is a long time but when you've got that one girl that takes your breath away," he shook his head. "There's nothing in the world like it. But of course, before all that happens you have to learn to walk and toilet train and go to school. College, too. I want you to be smart just like your mom. Don't be like me, okay? I want more for you than that."

He smiled down at the baby and trailed a finger tip along Kieran's nose.

"You're gonna have a great life, kid. Your mommy and I will make sure of that. You're going to have everything we never did growing up. Love mostly. Because we loved you before you were ever born and we're never going to stop loving you. Ever."

He pressed a kiss to his son's forehead.

"You're going be okay, kid," Flack told him. "I'm new to this daddy thing so you're going to have to go easy on me a bit. Until I learn the ropes. But I figure, we're both new to this game so we can work together and make up our own rules. Sound good?"

Kieran made a soft gurgling noise.

"Just know that I'll always love you," Flack whispered. "To the day I die. Always remember that. Well, that and your mother is a big old nag that takes some getting used to. But you'll manage. I do. Just let it go in one ear and out the other and it's all good."

"I heard that," Sam mumbled from across the room.

"And she can hear everything," Flack told his son. "And eyes in the back of her head. Just giving you the heads up. And one more thing, promise me when you're eighteen you'll get drafted first overall in the NHL, play for the Rangers and make about ten mill a year so I can retire. Deal?"

"What are you teaching him?" Sam asked, as she yawned noisily and sat up in bed.

Flack smiled and pressed his lips to his son's forehead once again.

"That's just between me and my boy," he said.

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all you lurkers and those adding me to alerts and favourites! Thanks a bunch!**

**Special thanks to:**

**hope4sall  
brrtmclv  
muchmadness  
GregRox  
Forest Angel****  
ImaSupernaturalCSI  
wolfeylady  
Bluehaven4220  
TruLuv  
soccer-bitch**


	102. Aunties and Uncles

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**A/N: JUST GIVING A HEADS UP FOLKS! I AM GOING AWAY THIS WEEKEND. SATURDAY, SUNDAY AND EARLY MONDAY. IT'S THANKSGIVING HERE AND I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH TIME, IF ANY, I WILL GET TO WRITE. SO HOPEFULLY, YOU GUYS WILL STILL BE HERE WHEN I GET BACK! THANKS, BEG75**

* * *

**Aunties and Uncles**

"My whole life is turned around  
I was lost and now I'm found  
A baby changes everything."  
-A Baby Changes Everything, Faith Hill

Adam and Gus paused outside of Samantha's hospital room.

It was ten to nine in the morning. Outside a fierce blizzard raged. Heavy winds shook the windows and threatened to topple trees and had prompted emergency services to declare a high wind warning for anyone travelling over the city's many bridges. There were downed power lines in areas of each boroughs. Queens and Long Island being the most affected thanks to the build up of ice and snow that downed some electrical wires and left the majority of residents without power for the last six hours. The department of health had issued an extreme cold alert. The NYPD officers unfortunate enough to be working the beat in such horrible conditions were advised to get all homeless citizens off of the streets and to shelters. The shelters themselves were nearly at full capacity and now schools were using their cafeterias and gyms and auditoriums to house the less fortunate.

Women's and Children's Hospital was warm and cozy. Especially the fourth floor. Ward B was a hub of activity. Nurses in cheerful, bright scrubs and just as cheerful smiles on their faces buzzed through the halls and in and out of patients' rooms. Babies could be heard crying through closed doors, the voices of their parents drifting out as well as they attempted to soothe them. Visiting hours had started at eight a.m. and guests were coming and going. Congratulating new parents and crying and laughing as they met the newest members of the family.

It had taken Adam and Gus close to an hour to get to the hospital. The roads were treacherous at best. Gus had struggled during the drive to see just a couple of feet in front of her. The windshield wipers on high speed and doing very little to combat the heavy, rapidly falling snow. Adam had anxious and tense throughout the entire ride. Unable to stop fidgeting in his seat. He bit his nails and offered up curse words that Gus had rarely ever heard escaping from his lips, ranting and raving at the crappy weather and the even crappier drivers. He just wanted to get to the hospital to see his sister and his new nephew. And like a kid who didn't understand why it was taking so long to get to his favourite amusement park, he just couldn't seem to grasp the concept that people were driving slow to prevent themselves from causing a major wreck and killing either themselves or someone else.

He had wanted to leave as soon as Flack had called. He was already pulling on some clothes the moment he hung up the phone. Gus had managed to convince him -although it had not been easy and quite the struggle- that the best course of action was to give Samantha and Flack some time to adjust to having a new baby. Let them have some along time together and with their son. Some quiet family time. And some rest if that was at all possible with the overwhelming excitement they were no doubt feeling. It also gave Gus some time to be able to hit the gift shop at the hospital. Because it didn't open until visiting hours started and there was no way she was going to see her nephew empty handed.

Now Adam carried a blue and white stripped ceramic vase bursting with white and yellow roses and carnations and a tiny balloon stuck in the middle of it all that read IT'S A BOY!. Clutched tightly in Gus' hand was a medium size gift bag adorned with the picture of a teddy bear fast asleep in the crook of a half moon. Inside of which was a handful of sleepers, two outfits and some burping towels wrapped in tissue paper.

The door to the private room was open slightly but there was not even the slightest sound drifting out to greet them. A stark contrast to the hustle and bustle that was going on out in the hallway.

"Maybe this wasn't a good time," Gus whispered to her fiance.

"What?" Adam looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "How can it not be a good time? My sister just had a baby not too long ago! My nephew's in there! I wanna see him!"

"Adam, listen to how quiet it is," Gus tried to rationalize with him. "Sam and Don are probably exhausted. Sam for sure. She's no doubt trying to get as much rest as possible. And the baby is most likely asleep too. Why bother them?"

"Why bother them?" Adam nearly shouted. "Why bother them?"

Gus clamped her free hand over his mouth. "Did you not hear me? They are probably asleep! Why are you so hell bent on disturbing them! Quit acting like a damn baby!"

"I've never been an uncle before," he said, as he pried her hand away from his mouth. "This is a huge deal. I want to see my nephew."

"And you're nephew is less than six hours old and needs as much rest as he can get. Not to mention Sammie more than likely suffered like hell giving birth. So why do you have to go in there and upset the apple cart?"

"I just want to see him," Adam lamented. "I just want to see him and maybe hold him."

"If he's sleeping…"

"If he's sleeping I'll just stand by the side of his crib or whatever and look at him," Adam assured her. "I won't make any noise or wake him or Sammie up. I just want to see my nephew and make sure my sister is doing okay."

Gus sighed heavily. "Fine…but I don't want you going in there and waking either of them up. Understand me? It's not like Kieran is going anywhere. He's here permanently. So you'll get lots of time with him. Promise me you won't disturb them."

"I promise," Adam vowed. "I just want to see them. That's it."

"Okay," Gus said, and reached out to knock lightly on the door.

* * *

Flack couldn't sleep. It had been more than two hours since he'd been woken up by Kieran's slight fussing. Since than, the baby had had another meal and two dirty diapers. One with just urine and the other with a foul smelling, hideous looking black stool that had Flack scrambling to wake up his wife thinking there was something desperately wrong with their son. He'd never seen anything like it. It reminded him of tar and as far as he was concerned, nothing that looked like that should be coming out of anyone. His eyes had widened in horror and he'd scooped his baby up, naked from the waist down and marched over to his sleeping wife and all but screamed at her to wake up. That something was terribly wrong with Kieran. She'd woken up with a start, terrified the baby had stopped breathing, to find her husband at the side of the bed, their diaper-less son held out to her.

He'd explained to her what he had come across and she'd looked like she wanted to kill him. She'd explained, as calmly as she could in a tone mixed with irritation and annoyance, that it was meconium. The earliest bowel movements of infants. Materials that the baby had ingested during his time in the uterus. The sheer idea of it had made Flack nearly throw up. And than Sam's eyes had widened and she'd told him that he now had a bigger mess to clean up. Because his son had just peed all over the place.

It had taken nearly twenty minutes to clean up after the baby. Flack couldn't understand how something that small could have that much urine in him. The kid was like a seven pound camel for crying out loud. The nurse had tried to hide her amusement when he'd, somewhat embarrassed, had explained what had happened while she was changing the sheets on Sam's bed and a janitor was moping the floor.

"Word of advice," the nurse had said before she left. "Baby boys are armed and dangerous."

With Kieran once again pacified and swaddled and returned to his bed, Sam had gone back to sleep and Flack grabbed the change of clothes he'd stashed in Sam's overnight back two weeks ago when the doctor had suggested having the belongings packed in advance. He'd been smart enough to toss in a travel toothbrush and toothpaste as well and snagged them and the clothes and headed for the bathroom. There were towels and face cloths sitting on a shelf over the toilet. He had briefly contemplated taking a shower but decided to leave it until Sam was awake and able to take care of the baby if he woke up.

He had freshened himself up. A simple touch to the side of his scratchy face, had him adding shaving to his mental list of things to do. He'd slipped into a pair of tattered, worn jeans and a simple black t-shirt and headed back into the room in his bare feet and retreated to the couch. He'd stretched out and attempted to catch some shut eye himself but his body was too wound up. His brain just wouldn't shut off. So he surfed the 'net on his phone for a bit, watched CNN with the volume on mute, and thought about nothing but his wife and his son. Eventually he gave up on trying to relax and got up and went over to the bassinet and carefully and tenderly removed his sleeping son. He just couldn't seem to be able to get enough of the baby. He was in utter awe and wonderment of his tiny, precious son and wanted nothing more than to spend as much time with him as possible.

He'd gone back to the couch and stretched out and laid Kieran along his thighs. He unwrapped his son from his swaddling and checked him out from head to toe. Unbuttoning the jammies to softly stroke those tiny wrinkled feet and possibly the smallest toes he'd ever seen. He'd tucked Kieran back in and buttoned him back up and checked out the equally as petite and wrinkled hands. He ran a finger tip over that button like freckled splattered nose and the soft rosy lips and the impossibly tiny ears. He combed gentle fingers through thick, dark hair and revelled in everything that was pure and innocent and beautiful there before him.

And than the soft knock had come to the door. He wasn't about to call out to whoever it was to go away. He didn't want to disturb Sam or the baby, so instead he'd lifted Kieran into his chest and headed across the room to see who it was. He pulled open the door and found Gus and Adam staring at him with wide, almost disbelieving eyes.

"What?" he asked.

Gus had never thought she'd see the day she walked in on the tough, often abrasive homicide detective cradling an infant to his chest. His right hand supporting the baby's bum and the left on the back of the tiny head to keep the neck steady. It just seemed to surreal. Two huge major changes had taken over Don Flack Jr in the past two weeks. One was that thick wedding band on full display. The other was that baby so lovingly and tenderly sleeping against him.

"You are a thing of beauty, Flack," she declared.

He arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"There's something insanely beautiful about a big, strong guy holding such a tiny baby," she told him.

"Yeah?" a bright smile crossed his face. "So you're saying my kid's a chick magnet?"

"Don't go using the poor thing to hook up with random women," Gus warned him.

"Only one woman I need," Flack declared.

"How's Sammie doing?"

"Okay. She's a bit sore from popping those stitches. Let's just say she'll be walking exceptionally slow for a while. But they've got her on pain meds. She's sleeping right now."

Adam looked disappointed.

"Doesn't mean you can't come in though," Flack told his brother in law quickly. "We can hang out in the living room."

"The living room?" Gus asked, as Flack pushed the door open with his foot.

He nodded. "Check this place out. Nicer than your average hotel room in this city. Better furniture and electronics than Sam and I have at our place. I'm seriously considering boosting the t.v."

"Not bad," Adam said with an appreciative nod as he looked around.

While Flack and Gus retreated to the seating area, he went and sat the arrangement of flowers on the window sill and stood at the side of his sister's bed. He didn't have the heart to wake her. Instead he reached out to smooth hair away from his face and leaned over the railing on the bed to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"We brought a few things for Kieran," Gus told Flack, holding up the gift bag.

"You guys didn't need to buy him anything," Flack responded, as he lowered himself onto the couch.

"We wanted to," Gus assured him. "Not bring a present for a new baby? How rude is that?" she shed her winter coat and tossed it on a nearby chair and took a seat on the love seat across from the homicide detective. "How's he doing?" she asked, nodding at the baby.

"Pretty good. He's eating well so that's a good thing. Sam's not getting much milk wise so we're giving him formula to things start working properly. He's a got a big appetite."

"Well we know which parent he gets that from," Gus said, winking playfully at Flack. "He's healthy?"

"He gave the doctor a little scare when he first got here. I guess he was crying really bad and he lost his breath and started gagging and coughing and turned blue. They gave him some oxygen and it never happened again so they're not sure what that was all about."

"Are they going to do tests?" she asked.

"Might do a chest x-ray and an echo before he goes home," Flack replied. "Doc says his lungs are clear and everything sounds fine."

Adam joined them. Sitting down beside Gus. He looked scared and nervous.

"What's up with you?" Flack asked.

"I've never been around a newborn before," the lab tech replied. "He scares me."

"He's harmless," Flack assured his brother in law and stood up slowly. "You've got nothing to worry about. He's already took a leak on both me and Sam, so I think he might spare you."

"What are you doing?" Adam asked in sheer terror as he realized his brother in law was walking towards him.

"I'm letting ya hold your nephew," Flack replied simply. "Now just relax and hold him along your forearm and you'll be just fine."

"I don't know if…" Adam attempted to argue, but soon found the baby placed delicately in his arms.

"Now if you guys will excuse me, I need to go somewhere and pass out," Flack only half joked as he returned to the couch. "He's all yours. Have fun."

Adam stared down at the sleeping infant. He was amazed. That anything could possibly be that small, and that his sister and the man sitting across from him had made something so astoundingly beautiful. They had achieved the miracle of life together. And Adam had no words to describe the amount of pride and love he had for both of them. Or for his nephew. Tears threatened. His hands shook.

"It's okay," Flack assured his brother in law. "I've been a blubbering, overly sensitive bitch since he was born."

Adam managed a laugh. And let the tears flow free.

Gus smiled and pressed a kiss to her fiance's cheek and rubbed his back soothingly. "How much did he weigh?" she asked Flack.

"Seven pounds, eleven ounces. Small, huh? Sam and I were sure he was at least ten with all the weight she put on. Apparently she was retaining a whole lot of water. And he was twenty one inches long."

"Tall," Gus said. "Guess that's what you get when dad is six foot two, though."

"He's going to be eighteen and weigh two fifty and stand six foot six," Flack declared. "And he's going to be just punishing people playing for the Rangers."

Gus rolled her eyes. "Don't start with that already. He's what? Six hours old and you have his future already planned out? He's beautiful, Don. Congratulations."

"Thank you," he said with a proud grin.

"How's it feel?" she asked. "To be a father?"

"Scary," he admitted. "I'm nervous. Paranoid something is going to go wrong. But mostly, all I feel is this amazing, overwhelming love for him and Sam that I can't even find words to describe."

"Don't get me started even more," Adam sniffled.

"You'll know what I mean when you and Broussard here starting knocking 'em out," Flack told him.

"Bite your tongue," Gus scolded him. "We are planning on staying baby free."

"You guys seriously do not know what you're missing," Flack told her. "It's incredible. To look at him and know that he started out the size of a pea inside of Sam and ended up looking like that? To look at him and realize that I helped create him? Surreal. Absolutely surreal."

"You are just a grinning fool," Gus declared. "You are one proud papa."

"I am," Flack agreed. "On top of being one exhausted papa."

"Get use to it," Gus said, as Adam laid the baby in her arms and than stood up. "Lots of sleepless nights ahead, Flack."

"I know," he sighed, than glanced up at his brother in law standing in front of him, his hand outstretched.

"Congrats," Adam said through his tears.

Flack ignored the hand offered to him and stood up and embraced the younger man tightly.

"Thank you," Adam said. "For taking such good care of my sister. For loving her enough to create something like that. And for not taking off when she found out she was having him. That was my fear, you know. That you'd bail on her."

"I know," Flack told him. "But that never, ever crossed my mind. Hurting your sister was never on my agenda."

"I know that now," Adam said, wiping his eyes as he pulled away from his brother in law. "I'm sorry I didn't realize that before. I just can't believe so much as happened in so little time."

Flack nodded in agreement and looked over his shoulder at his peacefully sleeping wife, than at his son cradled lovingly in Gus' arms.

"You can say that again," he said.

* * *

Danny wasn't sure this was a good idea.

He had stayed with Carmen at the hospital until she was ready to be released. They had done little more than sit in the same room together, Danny in the bedside while Carmen in the hospital bed had her face turned away from him so that he couldn't see her crying. He had attempted to talk to her about what had happened. About losing the baby no one knew she was expecting and the vicious, heart broken words that Speed had tossed her way before storming out of the room. In his heart, Danny knew it was over. Permanently. And he knew that Carmen did to. But in the classic foolish pride she so often exhibited, she clammed up and refused to talk about it. Even Erica, who had had came by to make sure that the two of them were alright, had been unable to get through to her friend. And normally she could make anyone open up to her.

He had somehow managed to drift off the sleep in that uncomfortable bedside chair. A mixture of the unbelievable warmth in the room and the pain killers he was downing like candy finally relaxing his body enough to let exhaustion creep him. When he finally stirred, it was to Carmen attempting to eat some breakfast brought to her in room, Erica long gone, and his cell phone ringing.

It was Hawkes. Delivering the news that baby Kieran had been brought successfully into the world via a quick and unexpected home birth. It was a bittersweet moment. Danny was thrilled for his best friend. He knew how long and often difficult the pregnancy had been, and how anxious and excited Flack was to be becoming a father. Yet at the same time, Carmen was going through her own hell and needed someone to be there for her, preventing Danny from being able to rush out and head over to meet his new godson. He'd delivered the news to her as emotionless as possible. Not wanting talk of the new baby to overshadow the fact that she had lost her own just hours before. The last thing he wanted to do was make light of her situation. Or Flack and Sam's for that matter.

Carmen, despite her broken heart and feeling of insufferable loss, had insisted that Danny take her to see the baby. He had resisted at first. He didn't want to see her putting herself through any more torment. Both physically and mentally. Although his own pain from his injuries, as bad as it was, was in no way going to prevent him from going to see Flack's new son. He had just planned on doing it after he had made sure Carmen got home safe and sound.

She had had other ideas. She wouldn't take no for an answer. Which was how, after quarter after twelve in the afternoon, after making pit spots at both of their places to change their clothes and freshen up, Danny found himself escorting a slow moving Carmen through the front doors of Women's and Children's and up to the fourth floor.

The door to Sam's room was wide open. From inside they could hear Sam talking quietly but getting no response in return save for the slight whimpering and fussing of the baby. Danny poked his head in the spacious room and saw mommy and baby in the hospital bed. No sign of dad.

Sam was speaking calmly and patiently to the tiny infant along her arm. Free of the swaddling his arms and legs were flailing. His hands covered with small cotton mittens. His mother trying to coax him into eating the plastic bottle of formula in her hand.

"Up to some visitors?" Danny asked, as Sam turned her head to the sound of him knocking softly on the door.

"Sure," she replied with a bright smile. Although she looked exhausted and weary.

"Where's dad?" Danny asked, as he, with Carmen holding onto his arm for support, made his way into the room.

Sam pointed in the direction of the couch. "He's sleeping," she whispered.

"You're letting him sleep?" Danny laughed. "What's wrong with you? You should be sleeping and he should be doing all the work."

"He has been. I just woke up about an hour ago. He's been taking care of Kieran since about six thirty."

"All by himself?" Danny asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sam nodded.

"Brave man," Danny declared. He and Carmen approached the bed. "How ya feelin', Brooklyn?" he asked, letting go of Carmen in favour of offering a one arm embrace the tiny brunette in the hospital bed.

"I'm okay," she replied. "Tired. Sore. You guys are okay? I'm surprised to see you two here after the accident. Is everything alright?"

"We'll live," Danny assured her. "Nothing that won't heal. Bigger and more important news is you and the little guy here. How's he doing?" he reached out to softly touch the baby's hair and face and hands.

"So far so good," she said. "But he's always hungry."

"Takes after his old man," Danny laughed. Than sniffled.

Sam grinned up at him. "Danny Messer," she said. "Are you going all cry baby on me?"

"Never," he vowed. "I just got allergies or a cold."

"Mm-hm…."

"I'll let you two be, let the big buy finish his lunch. I'm going to go and wake up his proud papa. Congratulations, Sam. He's beautiful."

"Thank you," she said with a smile, and accepted kisses to both her cheeks.

Danny headed over to the seating area and smirked at the sight of his best friend face down, fast asleep on the couch. One arm and one leg dangling over the side.

"Sleeping beauty," he said in a loud voice as he leaned down to place a hand on Flack's shoulder and shake him aggressively. "Hey…princess, wake up!"

"Fuck you," Flack muttered, and reached out to shove Danny's hand off of him.

"Come on, get up," the CSI insisted. "I came to visit you guys in my condition and you got the nerve to sleep? Show some respect for the walking wounded."

"Piss off, Messer," Flack mumbled. "Seriously. I'm in no mood. You're lucky I'm even somewhat lucid I'm so tired."

"Quit acting like a whiny little bitch," Danny scolded, and grabbing his best friend by one shoulder, proceeding to dump Flack on his back on the floor next to the couch.

"You sonofabitch," Flack cursed through gritted teeth. "Right when my back was killing me, too. What do you want from me? I've been up for almost twenty four hours if I don't count the three hours I managed to get before Santucci woke me."

"Well get used to a lot of sleepless moments now that you got a kid," Danny told him, and offered a hand to help his friend to his feet.

Flack sat up slowly and gingerly and yawned noisily and rubbed at his tired eyes with his fists. "What are you even doing here?" he asked, pushing Danny's hand away and turning sideways to use the couch to pull himself to his feet. "Didn't expect to see you here after what you went through."

"Carmen and I wanted to come by. Nothing could stop us from seeing our godson."

Flack glanced over towards the bed where Carmen and Sam were talking quietly while Sam fed Kieran a bottle of formula.

"Hear from Speedle?" he asked Danny in a low voice.

The other man nodded. And Flack could tell by the way his best friend's mouth was set in a grim line that whatever had gone done had not been good.

"What's going on, Dan-o?" Flack asked. "He give up his shield?"

"Among other things," Danny replied. "Let's not talk about this here, alright? No sense getting your wife all upset when the only thing you guys should be concerning yourselves with is your new baby. How is he? Doing good?"

"So far so good. No problems. Had a bit of a scare when he first got here and had some trouble breathing. But it hasn't happened since. It was amazing, Danny. Watching the whole thing. Seeing Sam give birth to him. Unbelievable scary and beautiful all at the same time."

"Sounds like you did good," Danny praised. "Feel any different? Being a father?"

"Not really. I guess the whole older and wiser thing is still a little ways off. I'm just disgustingly happy and proud and insanely exhausted."

"You guys did good," Danny told him. "Damn good. He's a beautiful baby. Thank God he looks like his mother, huh?" he teased. "Hopefully he gets her brains, too."

"He's all his dad, Mess. Trust me."

"Well I'm proud of you guys. Getting married and bringing him into the world two weeks later, that's a lot to deal with. And you guys just handled it like pros. Come here," Danny reached out and drew his much taller, bigger friend into a tight hug. "Nice job, Flack. Couldn't have done it better myself."

"Thanks…it was…crazy…that's the only way to describe it."

"You wanna go and grab a coffee?" Danny asked, releasing his friend. "You look like you can use one. Sam and the baby are okay if you take off for a bit? I can give you the heads up."

"They'll be fine without me for a bit. They can do the whole mommy and baby bonding thing. This kangaroo care shit the nurses keep going on about."

"What's that?" Danny asked curiously, as Flack gathered up a pair of socks and running shoes he'd tossed into the bag.

"Kangaroo care? It's this bonding thing they're big on. You strip the baby down to just his diaper, take your shirt off and let him lie on your chest. Skin to skin contact type thing. The nurses were telling us about it."

"You gonna try it?"

Flack snorted as he slipped into his socks. "You nuts? Do I look like the type to do something like that? Sam said she's going to give it a try."

"She has to take her shirt off and what not?"

Flack nodded and laced up his runners.

"In that case maybe we should stick around and observe."

"You're a pig, Messer," Flack declared. He went over to the bed and leaned over to kiss Sam softly on the top of her head. "I'm going to go and grab some coffee and something to eat. You and Kieran going to be okay?"

She nodded and turned her face up for a kiss. "Can you bring me back some milk and a tea and maybe a muffin or something? I know lunch will be here soon, but I don't exactly put much stock in hospital food."

"No problem," he said, and bent down to press a kiss to Kieran's forehead. "No giving your mom a hard time," he told the baby.

"Congratulations, Don," Carmen said as she rose slowly to her feet to hug him. "He's gorgeous."

"Thanks…I think we'll keep him. I know it must be hard. You know, seeing him after…"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. Bring me back something too?"

He nodded and headed towards Danny waiting at the door. "Love you guys," he called to Sam and the baby.

"We love you, too," she told him.

"Love you guys," Danny mocked in sing song voice as he clapped his best friend on the back. "You sappy bastard."

* * *

Carmen and Sam smiled at each other as the two men disappeared from the room.

"Seems like Flack's taking pretty good to this whole daddy thing," Carmen said.

"He's great, Carmen. I have no complaints. He was amazing during the birth and he's been waiting on me and the baby hand and foot since we got here. Letting me sleep and tending to Kieran so I can get my rest. He had a little mishap with his first diaper change, but other than that, he's just relishing his new role."

"I can tell. I mean, I always could tell how he felt about you when he so as much looked at you before, but now, after seeing you have his son, I don't know. That look he has is even deeper. More intense. So you handled it okay? The birth thing?"

"Wasn't the way I was expecting it to happen," she admitted. "Thank God for Hawkes. He just stepped up and took control. I don't know what we would have done without him. Or Stella. She was a Godsend, too."

"I'm proud of you and Don," Carmen told her, reaching out to run a hand over the baby's hair. "Look what the two of you did. What you manage to make together. It's just incredible. Kieran's incredible. You guys achieved the miracle of life. And did a hell of a job by looking at this little guy here. No surprising. Look at what his parents look like. No way you and Don could possibly have an ugly baby."

"He's beautiful," Sam beamed down at her son. "But than, I am prejudiced just a bit."

She removed the bottle from the baby's mouth and checked the level of the formula.

"You little piglet," she said with a laugh. "You took the whole four ounces. Three is suppose to suffice someone you're size."

She reached over to set the bottle on the bedside table and lifted Kieran to her chest, his stomach against her as she supported his head with one hand and burped him with the other.

"I thought you were adamant about breastfeeding," Carmen commented.

"I was. But nothing is working up to par right now so he's making do with the formula. And eating like crazy!"

Both of the women's eyes widened as the baby let out a loud, resounding burp.

"Whoa," Carmen laughed. "Definitely his father's son or what."

"Unfortunately," Sam said with a grimace as she cast a glance at her shoulder. "He's got a bit of a puking issue going on. He does it a lot."

"He's a baby," Carmen reasoned, and got a Kleenex to clean off her friend's arm for her.

"Are you doing okay?" Sam asked. "Donnie told me about the baby and the fight that you and Tim got into and…"

"I'm coping," Carmen responded and gave a brave smile.

"Have you talked to Tim since or…"

"He's gone, Sammie," she said. "He's gone."

"Well you guys got back together despite the whole Mathew thing. So there's nothing you two can't get through and…"

"Permanently," Carmen told her. "He's gone. He's left New York."

"He quit?"

She nodded and finished dabbing the spit up off her friend's shoulder.

"What did he say to you? Did he at least apologize or…."

"He left. That's all there is to it. No note, no goodbye, nothing."

"I'm sorry, Carmen," Sam shook her head sadly. "That's just not right. I can't believe he'd do that to you. I can't believe he'd be the type to do something like that at a time like this. When you need him the most."

"I guess no one knew him like they thought they did," the red head sighed. "And that includes me."

Tears welled in Sam's eyes. "That's terrible. I'm sorry…so sorry…"

"Hey, don't be getting yourself like this," Carmen scolded. "You should be on top of the world right now. You have an amazing, wonderful and loving husband, this new gorgeous little baby. You're life is incredible and you deserve to be happy."

"It's hard to be when someone you love is going through all of that," Sam reasoned.

"Let's not worry about it right now. Okay? Let's concentrate on you and Don and Kieran. You guys are a family now. How does it feel?"

"Surreal," Sam admitted. "Incredible. A little scary. I mean, I'm someone's mother now," she rubbed the baby's back softly and kissed the side of his head. "I have a baby. A son. And I love him and Don so much. I don't ever want this feeling to go away, Carmen."

The other woman smiled and reached out to lay her hand on Sam's arm.

"I don't want that either," she said.

* * *

"So what's up, Messer?" Flack asked, as the two men sat at small table at the back of the main floor cafeteria with steaming cups of coffee and bagels with cream cheese parked in front of them. Two plastic bags of other cold drinks and snacks on the floor at their feet.

"Speedle wise, you mean?"

The detective nodded and sipped his coffee.

"He's gone," Danny said. "Long gone. When I took Carmen to the apartment to get herself cleaned up and what not, everything of his was cleaned out. All his clothes, personal effects. The whole nine."

"He left her?" Flack shook his head in utter disgust. "After she gets into a car wreck and loses their baby? What a fucking asshole."

"Guess he isn't like me or you. We wouldn't bail on Sam or Erica if something happened to them. But with all due respect to Carmen, she should have told him she was pregnant. That just makes no sense to me why she didn't break the news to him. Her fiance. The father of the baby. Do you get that?"

"No," Flack admitted. "But she must have had her reasons. We heard her arguing with him. She said she was scared. She must have had something to be scared about. Sounds to me, from what we heard from him during all that, that he wasn't too sold on the idea of having kids."

"Neither am I, but I wouldn't be pissed off if it happened. And neither would have Speed been. She handled that bad, Flack. You know she did."

"Not my place to judge, Danny," the detective said and bit into the cinnamon and raisin bagel. "He's still a fucking prick regardless for taking off at a time like this. And a goddamn pussy for not sucking it up and dealing with it."

"Man lost his baby, Flack. A baby he never got a chance to even find out about. Would you be happy if Sam kept something like that from you and put herself in the position to lose it?"

"Carmen didn't know you guys were going to get into an accident," Flack said. "It was just that. An accident."

"That point aside, answer my question."

Flack sighed. "I'd be pissed. No doubt about it. But Sam wouldn't lie to me or keep something like that from me."

"My point exactly. She shouldn't have lied to him and you can't really blame him for being pissed."

"Doesn't give him an excuse to take off on the woman he was suppose to marry, Messer."

"You're right," Danny agreed. "It doesn't. But in a way you can see why he was as pissed as he was."

"So he just handed his badge to Mac or what?" Flack asked.

"All Mac told me when he called to let me know that Speed was gone was that he had tried talking him out of leaving and Speed coughed up his shield and gun anyway. And he told me not to tell you or Sam because he didn't want anything taking away from Kieran's birth. And he's right. Regardless of anything., nothing is more important than your boy."

"Does always seem like Carmen's got this massive drama in her life that upstages everything else," Flack sighed. "Sam didn't need that happening. Something her best friend is going through taking away from the baby. Seems like anything Sam does gets pissed on by what's going on in Devine's life."

"Sam did got into labour after the accident," Danny pointed out.

"Oh that's rich, Messer. What was I suppose to do? Tell her to clamp her legs together and hold the baby in for another week or two so Carmen could have yet another moment at center stage?"

"Of course not. Which is why Mac didn't want the two of you catching wind of this for awhile."

"So you just had to be so gracious and come here and tell me about it," Flack snorted.

"Look, I just thought you should know what's what. I wasn't coming here to disrespect you, Sam or the baby. And I know that you've always been around to help everyone through all their shit. Trust me, if anyone deserves a moment in the sun it's you. But Speed left something at the apartment for you."

Flack frowned. "Why me?"

"Beats me," Danny shrugged. "Like I said, we went in there and everything of his was gone. The only thing connected to him was this…." standing up, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded envelope. He held it out to his best friend. Flack's name written on it bold, black letters.

"What is it?" the detective asked. "Death threats? Anthrax? Mail bomb even?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Danny responded and sat back down.

"He wished my kid dead," Flack said. "Why should I even accept this? I should be hunting him down and shoving it up his ass."

"Because you don't hold grudges," Danny told him. "Because you know that he didn't mean a word he was saying. That the guy was just hurt and heartbroken and pissed off."

"Doesn't make it any better," Flack grumbled, tearing open the envelope. He reached inside and pulled out the neatly folded, hand written letter.

"He's leaving you love letters now?" Danny asked. "I'm jealous. I thought I was the only one you were seeing behind Sam's back."

"You wish, Mess," Flack replied and unfolded the letter.

"What's it say?" the CSI asked.

"If you'd be quiet and let me read it I'd be able to tell you."

"I forgot," Danny said, holding his hand up in self defence. "You can't do more than one thing at once. Chew gum while walking down the street and you're liable to trip over your own feet."

"Screw you," Flack said, and concentrated on the letter in his hands.

Danny gave his best friend a few minutes to read, and digest, everything that was on that paper in his hands. It wasn't until Flack sighed heavily, than took a sip of his coffee and refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope that he spoke. "So?" he asked.

"Speedle apologized for what he said about the baby," Flack replied. "Said he didn't mean it. That he was just hurt and what not and said things out of his ass. Which, trust me, I am a pro at myself. Than he wanted me to keep an eye on Carmen. Let her stay with Sam and I for a while until she was well enough to be alone and take care of herself."

"Gives Sam someone to have around when you're at work," Danny reasoned.

"I can't be looking after Carmen and mending her broken heart, Messer. I've got a wife and a new baby to worry about. It's not that I don't want to help out, it's just that I've got my own life to deal with and I don't need to be worried about someone else and trying to solve her problems."

"She'll make a speedier recovery if she is with you guys," Danny said. "You and Sam are probably the only ones she'd agree to stay with anyway."

Flack sighed. "I'm not a therapist. I can't even keep my own shit together most days."

"So you just going to turn her away? Let her fend for herself?"

"Of course not," Flack said. "I just…I can't devote myself to Carmen."

"No one expects you, too. What else did Speed say?"

"It says he's going back to Miami. And to not contact him. To make sure Carmen doesn't contact him especially. And he says that he's left six months of rent cheques with the super so she doesn't have to worry about paying for the place for a while."

"Fairly decent of him," Danny said.

"Yeah. Nothing screams decent guy like bailing on your fiancee that just got into an accident, lost your baby but still coughing up the cash for her to live," Flack said sarcastically. "You love someone you don't do crap like that," he told his best friend. "You just don't. For better or for worse, Danny. Not take off when the shit hit's the fan."

"Guess we all can't be perfect like you," Danny shot back.

"Oh fuck you, Messer. I'm not saying I'm perfect. I'm far from it. But you don't take off and leave someone high and dry after they've just been through all of that. You can't tell me you'd take off on Erica if the shoe was on your foot."

"Shoe isn't on my foot, though."

"Okay. Let me put it another way. You wouldn't bail on Monroe if the shoe was on the other foot."

Danny smirked. "That's dirty pool, Flack and you know it."

"You talk to her yet?"

"How'd we go from talking about Speed and Carmen to talking about me and Lindsay?"

"Just a question, Danny. You wouldn't have anything to feel guilty about if you weren't practically married to one girl and having a thing with your ex."

The other man snorted. "We are not having a thing," he argued.

"Gee, I'm sorry," Flack said. "Where I come, phone sex is still like having an affair."

"You're a bastard sometimes," Danny told his best friend. "Love ya, but you're a real bastard."

"Shit or get off the pot, Mess. That's all I'm going to say on that subject."

"What are you going to do about that letter?" Danny asked. "About Carmen?"

"Guess I'm going to have another woman to put up with. I'm not happy about. But I can't fuck her over even more. Speedle's done enough in that department. You know. I would have loved to get my hands on that guy before he left. Not just what he did to Carmen and what he said. You know him and Sam almost had a thing?"

"Get outta here. When?"

"Way back after he first got together with Carmen. They hadn't been together very long. That day Sam got served with those papers from Zack's attorney before the sonofabitch met his untimely yet welcome demise in prison."

"So what? They almost get it on or what?"

"They shared a moment. Whatever the hell that means," Flack snorted. "They didn't exactly do anything. They never even got an opportunity to. She just told me that there'd be this moment."

"Think she would have?" Danny asked.

Flack shrugged and ran his hands along his coffee cup. "I like to convince myself she wouldn't."

"Well for what it's worth, I don't think she would have. She was nuts about you right from the start. She wouldn't have had a thing with him even if the temptation was there."

Flack just nodded. "I cheated on her," he confessed.

Danny's eyes widened. "What? When?"

"Just after we got together. Couple of months into it. Before I really came to grips with how I felt about her and what I wanted out of us. I was working late one night and went out to have a drink afterwards and got a little too tipsy and ended up cheating on her. Just the one time. The girl meant nothing to me."

"Just some random girl you picked up?"

Flack shook his head.

"Someone I know?" Danny asked.

He nodded.

"Someone we work with?"

"No. Absolutely not. I'd never do that. Have a thing with someone Sam would have to see on a daily basis. I never should have done it in the first place. But like I said, I was a little drunk and unsure of my future with Sam, a little scared about all the things I was feeling so soon for her and things just happened."

"Was it Devon?" Danny asked.

Flack sighed.

"You weak bastard," Danny said. "You just couldn't stay away from her, could you."

"It was one time, Mess. Before Sam got pregnant with Kieran and we even talked about getting married and forever. And I'm not going to do it ever again. She's my wife now. The mother of my son. I'd never hurt her like that."

"Devon wasn't really in the precinct that day asking you for legal advice, was she," it was more a statement than a question.

"She was there because she was lonely. She wanted me to fill that space for her. Be her boy toy. I told her to take a hike. That it was a slip up I'd made and I wasn't in the mood for another one. I love Sam. I'm not going to have an affair."

"Sam know?" Danny asked.

Flack nodded. "I admitted it to her the night after I did it. I mean, she understood because she wasn't entirely sure how serious she was about me yet. What scares me now is that she doesn't trust me. She says she does. But I don't know."

"You were able to be honest with her. That shows she can trust you right there. And if you swear you aren't going to do it again…"

"I'm not. Ever. That part of me is gone. I just want to be a good husband and a good father. That's all I want. Spend the rest of my life with one woman. I fucked up and she forgave me."

"So than it's all water under the bridge, right? You two moved on. Got engaged, got pregnant. Now you're married and have a baby. All that other shit is behind you. Trust me, Flack. She would not have married you if she didn't love you or trust you."

"I know," the detective said with a sigh. "I don't even know why it's on my mind. I think just having Kieran here has been making me go through things in my mind. Life changes I need I know to make still to be good for him and Sam. Stuff like that."

"You know what I think?" Danny asked. "I think it took a big man to come clean to your girlfriend. And an even bigger man to admit he fucked up and feel remorse about it. That's the past. All you need to concern yourself with now, is Sam and that baby. You're a daddy now, Flack. I mean, is that nuts or what?"

He gave a small laugh and nodded. "It's pretty crazy, alright."

"You're going to do good by your boy," Danny assured him. "You already are by admitting all of this. You love his mother. Unconditionally. And he's going to see that and respect you for that."

"I hope so," he sighed.

"I know so," Danny said confidently. "I respect you for that. And you're my best friend and I love you like a brother and I'm proud of you for everything you've achieved."

Flack nodded in appreciation. "You hitting on me, Messer?" he asked with a laugh. "I mean, I'm flattered and all that…"

"Don't flatter yourself, Flack. You're not even my type anyway."

The two men laughed and lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Thanks, Danny," Flack said after several minutes. "For being here. Listening to all of this."

"Hey," the other man said. "What are friends for, right? You'd do the same thing for me. I know you would. And you've done a lot for me I've never thanked you for."

"Don't worry about it," Flack said, waving it off. "I do it because I want to."

"I know. But now, after what's gone down, it's time to let someone be there for you. Not easy for you, I know."

"I'm just not that type of guy," Flack reasoned.

"I know. And I also know, that instead of sitting down here and worrying about stuff in the past, you should be upstairs spending all the time you can with your wife and your boy. 'Cause they're your life now. The only two things in the world that should matter to you. So you wanna head back up? Show me some of your mad daddy skills?"

Flack smiled and nodded.

"With them is the only place I want to be," he said.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone one of you! Even the lurkers! Please R and R. It means the world to me and let's me know you guys like my stuff!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall  
****Brrtmclv  
****Laplandgurl  
****Madison Bellows  
****ImaSupernaturalCSI  
****muchmadness  
****GregRox  
****Forest Angel  
****Wolfeylady  
****Bluehaven4220  
****Soccer-bitch**


	103. Getting to Know You

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**A/N: I AM BACK FOLKS! AND MOB MADE IT TO 800 REVIEWS! WOW! MUCH THANKS AND LOVE TO ALL OF YOU SUPPORTING THIS AND ME!**

**LET'S ALL GIVE A SPECIAL WELCOME TO MONZA BIRD!**

**Getting to know you**

"I pray you'll be my eyes  
And watch him where he goes  
And help him to be wise  
Help me to let go

Every mother's prayer  
Every child knows  
Lead him to a place  
Guide him with your grace  
To a place where he'll be safe

I pray he finds your light  
And holds it in his heart  
As darkness falls each night  
Remind him where you are

Every mother's prayer  
Every child knows  
Need to find a place  
Guide him with your grace  
Give him faith so he'll be safe

Lead him to a place  
Guide him with your grace  
To a place where he'll be safe."  
-A Mother's Prayer, Celine Dion

* * *

She sat on the couch in her private room at the hospital. The ice storm and blizzard had finally stopped the afternoon before and sunlight streamed through the windows and bathed the room in golden warmth. Outside, the bare tree branches were coated with ice and sparkled beautifully in the sun. Five inches of snow blanketed the ground and the temperatures hovered just below freezing.

It was quarter to nine in the morning. Four days had passed since Kieran's birth. An electrocardiogram and a chest x-ray, both done the day before, had shown no problems with the baby's heart save for a standard murmur that was quite common among infants and the paediatrician was adamant would disappear sometime before Kieran's fifth birthday. It was nothing for his concerned parents to be worried, especially with his own mother being born with a murmur that re-occurred while she was pregnant, and according to a check up shortly after the baby's birth, was still hanging around.

The chest x-ray had been an entirely different story. It had showed slight shadowing in both lungs, indication a slight infection. The doctor's best guess was that Kieran had swallowed some amniotic fluid during birth and it was causing his often difficulties with breathing, and when he was terribly upset and wailing -such as he had been two days after he was born and received a Vitamin K shot in his thigh- he gasped for breath and coughed and gagged and promptly turned blue. It had horrified Sam, who, although with her CPR skills, had panicked and screamed blue murder for her husband who was just drying off after a shower and getting dressed. It had been difficult for Flack to stay calm and composed seeing his son like that. But someone had needed to stay relaxed and Sam was far too upset to be counted on. He'd turned the baby onto his stomach, rubbed his back and Kieran almost immediately let out a huge belch followed by a monstrous amount of vomit. The milk he had been consuming tinged with yellow.

The yellow was some of the fluid. The pediatrician who had come to exam the baby and have him placed on a C-pap machine for fifteen minutes at a time each hour on the hour, had said Kieran had not only swallowed the water, but had a nasty, severe case of acid reflux that was also known to cause affected babies to loose their breath and scare the shit out of their parents. Kieran was placed on IV antibiotics. It had been placed in the side of his tiny left foot and than bandaged up tightly so the baby couldn't inadvertently yank it out while kicking and flailing.

He was being released the following day. Still hooked up to the IV and with a C-pap machine in tow. A city employed home care nurse would come and check on him twice a day and if she felt he wasn't getting any better, it would be back to the hospital for more aggressive treatment.

So far so good, however. Kieran's coughing had trickled down to a bare minimum and he had had no scares with his breathing since the incident two days after his birth. He was now fast asleep and warm and secure in his mother's arms as she was on the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her. He had just finished a large meal. Her milk had come in completely the day before, and his ferocious appetite and desire to eat every two to three hours, mixed in with the pumping she had to do in between, was exhausting her. It was a struggle getting used to the pace, but she was slowly coming around.

"So I should be back in a few hours," Flack told her, as he journeyed into the room carrying two large cartons of milk and two straws.

His hair was still damp from the shower he had taken earlier and he wore a pair of well worn jeans and a black thermal style shirt. He hadn't gotten around to shaving yet. He just couldn't be bothered. Just too damn tired and too lazy to do it. And his face was showing it. Sam complained about how the start of his beard felt against her skin and was worried it would bother Kieran's tender skin. At the same time she talked about how sexy and dark and dangerous it looked.

She looked up at him as he stood by the side of the couch. Her eyes wide and terrified. "You're actually going to leave me alone with him?" she asked in sheer horror.

"Sam, you knew that I needed to go into the precinct today," Flack reminded her, as he opened one of the cartons of milk and popped a straw into it before holding the drink out to her. "I have to finish up some paperwork before Gerrard will even let me go on holidays."

"Can't you go in tomorrow?' she asked. "Is one more day going to hurt? I'm sure he'll let you put it off for another day."

"You guys are going home tomorrow," he told her. "I don't want to be stuck at work the same day you guys go home. So there's no time like the present."

"But people will be at the apartment," she argued. "Carmen will be there so it would be okay if you went in tomorrow."

"Well, I don't want to go in tomorrow," he said, nudging her arm with the carton of milk to get her to take it. "I want to get the shit done so I can enjoy the time at home with you and the baby."

She took the milk and sipped it and sighed heavily.

"What's the big deal?" Flack asked. "You were alright with this yesterday."

"I didn't think you were actually going to go," she responded. "Or be gone for that long."

"I'll try and get done sooner. But I'm not making any promises. Could be longer. I won't know until I get started. I'll call you and let you know how things are coming along."

"Okay," she said quietly, and with a bigger, more forlorn sigh than the first one.

"Sammie…" he reached out to push some hair behind her ear and brush his knuckles across her cheek. She looked and sounded terrified. "What's going on?"

"Please don't leave me alone with him," she pleaded, turning her tear filled golden eyes up at him.

"You're going to have to be alone with him when I go back to work," he told her, his voice quiet and understanding.

"I know…but that's two weeks from now," she argued. "In two weeks I won't mind but I mind now."

"What do you think he's going to do to you? He weighs just a bit over eight pounds. Look at him…he's tiny. He's harmless."

"But what if he has one of his attacks? What will I do?"

"First, you call the nurse. Second, Kieran hasn't had an incident since they started the antibiotics and the acid reflux meds and as long as you give him that oxygen every hour like you're supposed to he'll be fine."

"But how I am going to get all this done?" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "How am I suppose to eat and get my rest when he needs that done and eats every two to three hours and I have to pump in between. How am I going to manage?"

"You'll have to when I go back to work," he reminded her gently.

"I know that!" she wiped her tears with the sleeve of her flannel pyjamas. "But I'm not ready to do it yet! I'm scared of him."

"Why?" Flack asked. "Look at him. Does he look like a serial killer or something?"

She glanced down at their content, peaceful son. "No…"

"You're in a hospital, Samantha. Lots of people here to help you if you need it. After you give him his oxygen, you put him in his bassinet and you do all of your other stuff. And that includes eating. I put in an order with nutrition services and they're going to bring you up some breakfast in half an hour. Good stuff, too. Some poached eggs and some Corn Flakes and brown toast with strawberry jam and banana and some decaf tea. Okay? I want you to at least try to eat all of it. And I want you drinking all that milk. You need as much calcium as possible. You want more, call the nurse and she'll bring it to you. Alright?"

She nodded and sniffled noisily.

"You're going to be okay," Flack assured her, running a hand over her hair and pressing a kiss to her temple. "My cell will be on and if you need anything, you call me. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed meekly.

"I promise you that you're going to be fine. Kieran will probably sleep most of the time anyway. It's his favourite thing to do apparently. Must get that from his mother."

"Ha, ha," she said. "You are such a comedian."

"Hey, you're the one that wasn't getting out of bed until noon and still in your pyjamas when I checked in on you in the late afternoon," he teased.

"I had just started my maternity leave," she said. "And if I want to stay in my jammies all day, I'm going to."

Kieran stirred in her arms. Cracking open his blue eyes slightly and stretching his tiny arms and letting loose an impossibly huge yawn for someone that small. Both Sam and Flack smiled at the sight and Flack wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"He reminds me of you every time he does that," Sam said with a quiet laugh, looking down at her son as he drifted in and out of sleep. "And he looks just like you do when you're sleeping."

"He looks just like me period," Flack said proudly, and ran gentle fingertips across his son's forehead.

"Yes, I know," Sam sighed dramatically. "Everyone keeps telling me that."

"Well it's true. Aren't you glad you hooked up with such a devastatingly handsome guy like myself and managed to score yourself a baby just as good looking at his old man. Think about what the poor thing would look like if Danny was his father. Instead, he's got my DNA and he's damn gorgeous. Lucky you. And him."

"You're such an egotistical bastard sometimes," Sam teased her husband, doing up a wayward button on Kieran's one piece beige sleeper adorned with small Classic Winnie the Pooh pictures and honey pots and bearing the words Mommy and Daddy's Little Honey Bear in burgundy lettering across the chest. His left foot unable to be put inside because of the IV. That his mother was now ever so gently and lovingly inspecting.

"Maybe," Flack said. "But you love me anyway."

"Love you?" she laughed. "I merely used you to get myself a dark haired, blue eyed baby. And now I have him and I don't need you anymore and you'll be getting divorce papers in the mail soon."

"Now whose the comedian?" Flack said and ran a hand over her hair. "He's got your nose though. Complete with the freckles. And your long eyelashes. See how long his lashes are? Ever seen a baby with eye lashes that long? A boy baby at that?"

She shook her head.

"He's beautiful, Sammie. You're happy, right? With him? Tell me you're happy."

"I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be? He's my son. Our son. We made him together."

"You just don't seem happy. I thought you'd be over the moon finally having him here."

"I am," she said. "I'm just…I'm not as out there with it as you are."

"Well he's my boy. I'm a proud papa. I can't help it. Aren't you proud of him, Sammie? Of what we created and managed to bring into this world?"

"Of course I am, Donnie. Why are you asking me this?"

He shrugged. "You just don't…I don't know. You just don't seem happy right now. With me, with him."

"I'm just really tired and still a little sore," she told him. "It has nothing to do with you or the baby, Donnie. I'm just tired and trying to cope with being a mother and I feel so…I don't know…so overwhelmed."

Flack nodded slowly, watching her face and listening to her intently as she spoke.

"I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, her voice quiet as the tears started again.

"Little too late to be thinking that way," he said, using gentle fingertips to brush away her tears. "He's here, Sammie. He's not going anywhere God willing. So it's too late to be second guessing our decision to have him."

"I'm not second guessing anything," she said defensively. "Not us, not him. Nothing. I'm just…I'm scared."

"Of?"

"That I'm going to suck as a mother," she admitted.

"You're doing a great job so far, Sammie. A little panicky in medical situations which is totally unlike you, but understandable considering he's your son and you don't want to see him like that."

"I'm only doing good because we are in a hospital," she argued. "Because there's all these professionals around that know what they're doing and I can call them whenever I need to. But once we're home, it's just us and that terrifies me."

"I'll be with you for two weeks," he said. "And Carmen's staying with us for a bit. But you're going to have to get used to the idea of being alone with your own son, Samantha. What are you so scared of? You think something is going to happen to him?"

"I don't know what I am scared of," she sobbed, laying her head on her husband's shoulder. "I just know that I am. I'm worried something will happen to him. I'm worried I'm going to go into his room one morning and he's going be dead. From SIDS. I'm terrified of that. I don't know what I'd do if I walked in and he was dead."

"Jesus, Sammie, that's the last thing you should be thinking about," Flack told her, laying his hand on her head and stroking her hair. "I haven't even thought of SIDS once. Why are you thinking about something like that?"

"Because I am," she said. "Because this girl I worked with in Phoenix, she had a baby and the baby was perfectly healthy and normal and everything went so great in the hospital and than she brought the baby home and three days later she walked into the baby's nursery and she was dead! Dead, Donnie!"

"Shhh," he kissed the top of her head. "It's okay."

"I don't know what I'd do," Sam continued. "If I walked in and found him like that. I just got him. I don't want to lose him."

"Take it easy, Sammie. Just relax. It's okay. SIDS isn't as common as you think it is."

"I don't want anything happen to Kieran," she wailed.

"Neither do I. And he's going to be fine and you know it and I know it."

She sniffled noisily.

"If it would make you feel better, he can sleep in our room. When I stop by the apartment on my way back here to bring his car seat and some fresh clothes for all of his, I'll but the bassinet by your side of the bed and…"

"Your side," she said. "I'd feel better if it was your side."

"Fine…my side. I'll put it there and he can sleep in our room for a while. Okay? Sound good?"

"Sounds good," she agreed.

"Anything else you want to talk about before I leave?" he asked, stroking her cheek with the thumb of one hand while combing his fingers of the other through his son's thick dark hair.

She nodded.

"What's that, baby?"

"I feel so guilty," she said, gazing down at her baby, wide awake, his eyes taking in the sights and sounds above him.

"About what?"

"I love Kieran. So much. He's my son and how can I not love something that you gave me?"

"I just helped out a bit, Sammie. Kicked in some of the DNA. If anything, you gave him to me."

"I just…I don't know why I feel the way I do."

"Well how do you feel?" Flack asked, patiently and calmly.

"I love him…"

"You said that. What? You don't think I believe you? That I don't see how much you love him when you look at him?"

"I love him but I'm not in love with him," Sam revealed. "And mothers are suppose to feel this instant connection. This undying, unwavering, unconditional love. And the only person I feel that way about is you."

"We've been together a little longer than Kieran's been here," he reasoned. "Give it some time."

"But they go on and on about having these bonds with their babies. About how strong and unbreakable it is right from the start. And I don't feel that and I'm wondering why and if I ever will feel that for him."

"You will, Sammie. He's only four days old. Just because all these other women feel that way doesn't mean you're going to. Everyone is different. And once the two of you get to know each other better, you'll feel that way. I promise."

"I feel like a bad mother. For not having that with him. He's a stranger to me, Donnie. I carried him for nearly nine months yet I don't know him. Does that make sense?"

"Carrying him inside of you is one thing, babe. Having him here to take care of is an entirely different thing. Just give him some time. Give yourself some time. Don't put all these expectations on him, or you. Just relax and let things come. Can you do that?"

She sniffled. "I think so. But did you feel it right away? A bond with him?"

"I don't know if it's a bond. I know I love him a hell of a lot and I wonder how I ever survived so long without him."

"But you've done so good with him. Right from the beginning," Sam said. "It all came naturally to you. I see the way you hold him and cuddle him and how you talk to him and tell him stories and the way you touch him. You're so wonderful and gentle and loving with him."

"Well he's my son, Sammie. And he's tiny. Of course I'm going to be like that with him. But I see things between you and him, too. I see how good you are with him. How patient you are and the way you look at him with all that love and adoration. Don't underestimate yourself, babe. Because you're doing a damn good job with him."

"But I don't feel that bond," she argued.

"No one said it has to come right away. Just because other women feel it, it doesn't mean you will. And you know what? There's nothing wrong or strange about that. You just need to relax and enjoy him more instead of worrying about screwing up or him getting sick or even worse, him dying. Those things should be furthest from your mind at this time. Let's just enjoy him. Let's enjoy being parents together. Let's enjoy being together period. As a family. Can we do that?"

She nodded and smiled at him through her tears.

He kissed her softly. "You're going to be okay," he promised her. "You trust me, right?"

"You know I do."

"Than trust me when I saw there's nothing for you to be scared about when it comes to this bonding thing. It'll come to you and than you'll sit back and wonder why you ever worried about it in the first place."

A soft knock came from the door and Flack looked over. A porter for the hospital was delivering Sam's breakfast.

"Your room service is here," Flack commented, kissing his wife on the side of the head before standing up.

"I just put on bedside table?" the porter- an impossibly tiny Filipino woman with a name tag that read Flora asked before tentatively stepping into the room.

"That's fine," Flack told her. "Thank you."

"It no problem, sir," she said cheerfully, as she now hurried in and sat the tray on the table before scurrying for the door once again. "You have good day. Congratulations on baby."

"Thank you," he called after her, than looked down at Sam with a smile. "You hungry? Want something to eat? I promise you I picked you all good food."

"I'm starving," she admitted. "Will you take him and put him in his bassinet?"

"Of course," he said and gently lifted Kieran from his mother's arms. "Come here, big guy," he said to the baby, carefully and protectively carrying him on one arm, his son's head nuzzled in the crook of his elbow, Kieran's bum resting in the palm of his hand. "Daddy's going to put you in your bed so your mama can get something to eat. 'Cause the way you've been eating, you're going to drain her right out so she needs to get something into her. Especially all that milk. Don't want your meal ticket running on empty do you?"

"Is he answering you?" Sam asked, laying her hand on her husband's forearm and slowly getting to her feet.

"He just told me that he much prefers your offerings to that soya shit you were tossing his way," Flack told her, walking her back to her bed. Taking it one leisurely step at a time.

"It's good for him," Sam said, laying a hand on her stomach and wincing.

"You okay?" Flack asked. "Still having lots of pain?"

"Not lots. But it's there. Think about how you'd feel if someone split you from ass end to front end. And you had more stitches inside holding your damn prostate in place. Only in my case it's my cervix."

"Don't use stitches and my prostate in the same sentence, okay? Makes me cringe."

"Wait until you're forty and need your first prostate exam."

"Thanks, Sam. Now I won't sleep at night until I turn forty. You just had to talk about that. On my way out I'll ask the nurse to bring you some pain meds."

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"No…you're not. Don't suffer if you don't have to. Dope yourself up. Go ahead. Normally I don't condone the use of controlled substances, but watching Kieran split ya from sun up to sun down and you popping those stitches, I say get as high as you possibly can."

"Yeah…well leave it to your son to make me suffer this bad and cause me so much torture," Sam sighed, climbing onto the bed gingerly and carefully sliding into the middle.

"Us Flack guys like to do that," Flack said, as he carried Kieran to his bassinet. "Torture and aggravate the women we love. It's a gift we have."

"Apparently," Sam said.

"We love mommy don't we," Flack said to the tiny infant as he laid him in the bassinet, on top of the open receiving blanket. "Your mommy's the most amazing, beautiful woman on the face of the earth and we love her more than anything."

"Don't you two be kissing my ass after you've caused all the agony," she laughed, watching, in utter love and respect, as her husband unbuttoned Kieran's sleeper and changed the baby's diaper before so perfectly and expertly swaddled their son, making sure to watch for the IV on the baby's foot. And than leaned down to press a tender kiss on Kieran's forehead, one of the tip of that tiny nose and one on each chin.

"Say that's not agony, mommy," Flack said to his son. "Agony is what daddy and I have planned for the next eighteen years."

"Is he warm enough?" Sam asked. "He was sneezing this morning. I hope he's not catching a cold."

"Nurse already told you that that's normal. For him to sneeze and his eyes to water. He spent nearly nine months in water and God knows what else. It's probably up his nose and in his ears and what not. He's fine. And yes, he's warm enough. He's got his jammies on and his receiving blanket."

"Put that other blanket on him, Donnie. The one Angell bought him. The white chenille one with the little lamb embroidered on it."

"Sammie…he's fine. You don't want him getting over heated. Because than he won't sleep well if he's too hot and wake up crying 'cause he's uncomfortable. And he'll end up with that prickly heat shit all over him."

"But it might get drafty," Sam argued. "Please? Will you put the blankie on him?"

Flack sighed and tossed the dirty diaper in the pail by the side of the bed and grabbed the blanket in question from the nearby arm chair. "I'll put it on him," he said, conceding defeat. "But it's going just over his feet. Okay?"

"Thank you…and is he on his back?"

"Sammie…please…I know what I'm doing here. Don't you worry about it. I've got it under control. And so you know, he's on his side and he's got those rolled up towels on either side of him keeping him in place. Better for him on his side with all that reflux."

"He might find a way to get over the towels and roll onto his tummy."

"Samantha…he's four days old. He has no concept on how to move a towel out of the way let alone roll over on his own. I know he's going to be a brainer like his mom, but he's not that good."

"You never know," she mumbled.

"If he can do all of that, he's like the second coming of Albert Einstein," Flack declared. "And with me as his father, that's not possible."

Flack stepped back from the bassinet and smiled down at his son. "Now he's all good, mommy. He's warm enough and drifting back to sleep. So you've got some time to yourself before he wants to eat again. And I've given him a stern lecture on getting on your nerves too much. Told him to be a good boy."

"Thank you," Sam said, and pulled the beside table over.

"See you in a bit, baby K," Flack leaned over the bassinet and pressed a kiss to his son's head. "Daddy be back soon."

He went back to the seating area and got the cartons of milk and brought them to Sam.

"You're amazing," she declared, smiling lovingly at her husband.

"I try my best," he said, returning the smile and setting the drinks on the tray. "Now you've got a lot of milk here and I am telling you right now, it better be all gone when I get back. It's not, I am handing you your ass, Mrs Flack."

"I'm not scared of you," she informed him.

"Yes…you are," he said, and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

"No…I'm not."

"Yes," he insisted. "You are."

She shook her head.

"Don't be stubborn."

"Come on, Don. We all know I'm the boss around here. That you're the good cop and I'm the bad cop."

He chuckled. "You wish."

"You are not in the least bit scary to me," she said.

"I can be."

"I'm waiting…"

He grinned and kissed her chastely. "Just you wait and see," he said, and headed for the closet in the corner of the room. "I've got plans for you."

"You're such a talker," Sam declared and picked up a piece of toast and bit into it. "You're all talk and no action."

"Yeah?" he asked, snagging his coat off the hook in his closet and slipping into it. "If I'm all talk and no action, explain to me how our four day old son came about."

"Because you seduced me."

Flack laughed. "This coming from the girl who was walking around my apartment in my shirt and her underwear…"

"No underwear," she corrected.

"No underwear and doing obscene things with an oreo cookie."

"I was merely eating it, Donald."

"It's how you were eating it," he informed her, zipping up his coat.

"Well no matter. You still seduced me and turned me into your sex slave. You and your little games with ice cream and ice cubes and God knows what else."

"Handcuffs," he said. "Don't forget the handcuffs. You get unlimited use of them now that we're married. Too bad we won't be having sex again for like, I don't know…forever."

"You poor man," Sam sipped some milk. "I'll have to buy you a subscription to a rub and tug."

He grimaced. "Please…there's nothing stopping you from doing something like that for me once in a while."

"Maybe I just don't feel like joining you in your perverted X games," she said.

"You are far more perverted and twisted than me," Flack informed her, returning to the side of her bed.

She laughed at that.

"I gotta go, babe," he said, and kissed her softly. "Call me if you need anything, okay? And I mean anything."

She nodded and reached up used her thumb to wipe some toast crumbs that had spread from her lips and onto his.

"Problems with Kieran, you call the nurse. No hesitation. You hear me?'

"I heard you loud and clear, Detective Sargent Flack. Can you do me a favour? Two favours, actually?"

He nodded.

"One, ask the nurse for some pain meds. I'm suffering today. And two, bring me back a Frosty and Taco salad from Wendy's? "

"I'll see what I can do," he told her and kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Drive safely."

"I will," he promised and headed for the door.

"Donnie?" she called to him.

He paused in the doorway to look back at her.

"Thank you. For everything."

He smiled. "No problem."

"And just so you know, you're nothing like your father."

His smile broadened. She had no idea what it meant for him to hear that. Or maybe she did and that's why she had said it.

"Just wanted you to know that," she said.

"Thanks," he responded, and winking at her, disappeared from the doorway.

"Nothing like him," Sam whispered to herself, casting a glance at their son just feet away. "Thank God."

* * *

"There's the proud papa," Scagnetti said in way of greeting as his partner approached their conjoined desks.

The bull pen was falling victim to its usual noise and hustle and bustle. Plainclothes officers were wrestling handcuffed prisoners to holding cells, the perps fighting and kicking every step of the way and offering up every sort of expletive imaginable. Phones rang off their hooks and detectives were pacing by their desks as they took calls or were tugging on their jackets as they hurried from the precinct, slapping Flack on the back and offering him quick congratulations on their way by.

Flack grinned at his partner's words.

"How's the little guy?" Scagnetti asked, pushing his chair away from his desk and standing up.

"He's doing good," Flack replied. "Going home tomorrow. Has a bit of a chest infection so he's on some oxygen hear and there and on some IV antibiotics. But he's doing alright."

"The infection gonna clear up?"

"Couple weeks at the most," Flack told him. "He swallowed some amniotic fluid and it's causing him some issues. He's a tough little shit I'll give him that. He's tenacious. Like his mother."

"Smart like her too, I hope."

"I hope so, too," Flack laughed.

Scagnetti offered his hand. "Congratulations, Flack," he said. "Glad things worked out okay."

"Thanks. Got a picture if you want to see it."

"You gotta ask that? Are we not partners?"

"We are. Which makes me wonder why you haven't come by the hospital to see me and my family."

"I'm not that kind of guy, Flack. You know that. Besides, I hate hospitals. You and your pretty wife invite me over for supper and than we're talking."

"I'll run it by her," Flack said, and reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, pulled a Polaroid one of the nurses had taken in the nursery. "Haven't taken any pics off the digital yet," he said, holding the photo out to the older man. "This one was taken of him in the nursery when we first got to the hospital."

Scagnetti took the picture from his friend and colleague and look at it. He smiled. "Kid's got tons of goddamn hair," he commented. "Is it me or does he look just like you?"

"He's his father's son through and through," Flack said proudly and sat down at his desk. "My hair, my eyes, my ears and chin and lips. Only thing he has of his mother is her nose. Freckles and all. And her temper. Should have heard him in the nursery when they were trying to clean him up. Screamed his head off. Fought like hell."

"Sounds stubborn like his old man. Can I have this? You got others?"

Flack nodded. "Go ahead…it's all yours."

Scagnetti opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a roll of scotch tape. And proceeded to attached the picture to the corner of his computer screen before putting the tape back, shutting the drawer and sitting down.

"Sam's good?" he asked.

"She's hurting," Flack replied. "Quite a bit. Popped her stitches, Kieran's big head added insult to injury and they had to sew her up not only inside, but outside, too. Twenty five stitches."

"Ouch," Scagnetti said and whistled lowly. "Tell them to put a couple in to tighten her up nice and good for you so when you and her get back to business, she's all…"

"You're a perverted old man," Flack informed his partner.

"Be like being with a virgin."

"Tony, stop while you're ahead. Don't talk about my wife like that. That's just wrong. How's things been around here?"

"Same shit, different day. That crazy rich broad you dated a while back won't stop calling here for you."

Flack sighed and shook his head and reached for the first file on the monstrous pile to his right.

"Came by twice yesterday. Angell told her to take a hike. That you guys just had a baby and you're off for a while and that if she messes around with you and fucks up your family, she's going to take her out to the wood shed and punish her."

"Angell said all that?"

"Shocking, I know. I mean, who would expect something like that from someone so demure and feminine," Scagnetti said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "So what's this Danielle want?"

"Devon," Flack corrected. "And I have no idea."

"I mean, other than a booty call with a blue collar shumck such as yourself."

"Shmuck?" Flack chuckled. "You bringing the Yiddish now? Seriously, I don't know what she wants. I don't want to know. I just want her to leave me alone."

"Think she'll cause problems for you? Screw up your family."

"I hope not," Flack sighed.

What he was really thinking, was: _She better not even fucking try._

* * *

The nurse, Connie, had brought Sam a chocolate milkshake and a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich. Comfort food, the pretty blond nurse had said, when she brought the goodies to the distraught new mother. She'd gone in to check the baby's IV and see how mom and him were making out and to give Sam some pain medication, and found Sam curled up in the fetal position in bed and crying into her pillow. Post-partum. Not necessarily depression, but the let down of all the pregnancy hormones. And the emotional release of eight months of planning and anticipation before over and done with.

She had dozed off after finishing both the shake and the sandwich. And woke to the sun streaming through the window and her face bathed with warmth and the sound of her son fussing in his bassinette. From her position, she could see he had once again gotten out of his swaddling and his little arms flailing as he whimpered. She slowly and carefully climbed out of bed and made her way over to him.

"Kieran…" she spoke to him in a soft, soothing face. Noticing that his noises stopped at the sound of her voice. "Kieran…what's wrong, baby? Are you hungry? Did you manage to get out of the swaddling daddy did? You're mommy's little Houdini, aren't you."

She removed the swaddling the rest of the way and immediately smelled it.

"Pee-eww, kid," she said, and plugged her noise. "You stink, sweetie cheeks. What are you eating?"

She opened the cupboard under the bassinet and took out a fresh diaper and a package of wipes. Unbuttoning the baby's nightie, she was careful to mind the IV line as she pulled his legs free and tucked the bottom of the jammies under his back and opened the wipes. She yanked three out and cleaned up the mess her son had made of himself, gently moving over the small, slightly blood stained bandage that covered his still tender and raw penis. Poor kid had had to endure a circumcision the day before on top of all his other issues. All because the doctor had said it was common, for later in life when the cleaning of such appendage became necessary, that the child be identical to his father. Flack's face had went white and he had felt nauseous when he finally clue in to what the doctor was actually suggesting. And Sam had made him go in when the procedure had been done.

Kieran had screamed from the agony, but it had been Flack who'd come back to the room near tears. Their son was already quiet and happily nursing on a bottle of expressed breast milk. But dad…dad wasn't doing so well.

"I am so glad he only needs that done once," Flack had declared. "Do not ask me to do anything like that ever again."

"Well he won't remember it," Sam had responded. "Do you remember getting it done?"

"I was a baby when my mother inflicted the same torture on me. I was like a day old."

"And do you remember any of it? The pain of it?"

"Of course not," Flack had said.

"My point exactly. So suck it up."

She finished cleaning the baby up and put a fresh diaper on him before re-dressing him in his pyjamas.

"Let's go, little man," she said to her son, and scooped him up into her arm. With her free hand, she pushed the IV pole as she carried her baby over to the seating area. "You're probably hungry. You're just like you're daddy, you know that? You have a huge appetite."

She sat down on the couch and unbuttoned her pyjama top and put the baby to the breast. He latched on eagerly and hungrily. A definite pro. She smiled down at him and touched every inch of his face with gentle fingers. Stroking the bridge of his noise, running a fingertip along the outline of his ears. Tracing his bottom and top lip. Tickled his chin and let her finger drift across his eyebrows. She ran her fingers through his hair. It was silky and near black and just beautiful.

He was beautiful. Just like his father.

"Is it good, Kieran?" she asked, as he fed ravenously and stared up at her with his big blue eyes. "You were starving, weren't you? Are you mommy's big boy? Are you mommy and daddy's good little man? Mommy and daddy love you so much. We waited a long time to see you and now you're here. And we wouldn't give you up for anything in the world."

Kieran's fingers curled around one of hers as she stroked his cheek.

Sam leaned down to kiss his forehead.

They finished the rest of the feed in silence. It was peaceful and relaxing as he took from both breasts before she buttoned her pyjamas back up and sat her son on her lap, holding him around the chest with one arm, her hand supporting his head under the chin as she rubbed his back in smooth circles. Eliciting two huge burps.

Sam giggled at how loud they are. "You are definitely your father's son," she declared, and laid the baby back down along her arm. "I think you even burp louder than he does. But we won't tell him that. Because we don't want to hurt that ego of his. Wound his male pride in any way."

The baby gave a content sigh and a large yawn.

"What a life, huh?" Sam said "Eat, sleep and poop. Must be nice."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. She knew it was only gas, but at the same time, it still warmed her heart.

"You know," Sam said, and put her feet up on the coffee table. "Your grandma used to sing me a song when I was just a little girl. Maybe I could sing it for you? Would you like that?"

Another yawn.

"Am I boring you, Kieran? Am I keeping you up? I am going to sing you that song. It's my favourite. It's called Wooden Heart and it's by Elvis Presley. Now I am not the best singer so you have to bear with me, okay?"

The baby stared up at her with wide, interested eyes.

"Okay, here it goes…don't go laughing at me though.

_Can't you see, I love you? Please don't break my heart in two, that's not hard to do, 'Ccause I don't have a wooden heart. And if you say goodbye, then I know that I would cry. Maybe I would die, 'cause I don't have a wooden heart. There's no strings upon this love of mine, it was always you from the start. Treat me nice, treat me good, treat me like you really should. 'Cause I'm not made of wood, and I don't have a wooden heart."_

Silence fell over the room. Those tiny fingers tightened their grip on her finger and blue eyes locked on golden ones.

"I love you, Kieran," Sam whispered, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Mommy will always love you. Forever. Just remember that, okay? That she loves you and will never leave you. Ever."

She smiled at her son and gathered him into her arms once again and cuddled him close, his stomach resting against her chest, her hand on the back of his head as it lay on her shoulder. Quiet enveloped the room. Sunshine streamed in. It was peaceful. Heavenly, almost.

"I will never leave you," she vowed.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I am so glad I was able to catch up like this! Big relief indeed! I appreciate all of you and thank each and every one for their support!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall**

**Brrtmclv**

**Aphina**

**Forest Angel**

**Laplandgurl**

**Bluehaven4220**

**muchmadness**

**MonzaBird**

**GregRox**

**Soccer-bitch**


	104. Everywhere and in between

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS.**

**A/N: This is a future chapter. So have the tissues at ready, folks. Also, the beginning is a tad AU. Not my usual style, but the muse demanded I do it.**

**Everywhere and in between**

"I'm already there  
Take a look around  
I'm the sunshine in your hair  
I'm the shadow on the ground  
I'm the whisper in the wind  
I'm your imaginary friend  
And I know I'm in your prayers  
Oh I'm already there

She got back on the phone  
Said I really miss you darling  
Don't worry about the kids they'll be alright  
Wish I was in your arms  
Lying right there beside you  
But I know that I'll be in your dreams tonight  
And I'll gently kiss your lips  
Touch you with my fingertips  
So turn out the light and close your eyes

I'm already therewhat  
Don't make a sound  
I'm the beat in your heart  
I'm the moonlight shining down  
I'm the whisper in the wind  
And I'll be there until the end  
Can you feel the love that we share  
Oh I'm already there."  
-I'm Already There, Lonestar

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the kitchen. Bathing the room with warmth and a stunning glow as a refreshing, revitalizing breeze travelled through the open window and fluttered the curtains.

Flack had gone downstairs at the sound of dishes and pots and pans clanging together in the sink and running water and the radio mounted underneath one of the cupboards playing. He had went upstairs to lie down. To rest his weary mind and eyes. Because sleep so far seemed to be the only time he was at peace and not suffering from the overwhelming loneliness and loss that threatened to destroy him. It had been a week since he had been back to week. A week of condolences and sympathetic words and gestures past his way. One month and fourteen days since he had gotten that one phone call he would never forget as long as he lived. Thirty-five days exactly since he had walked out of the hospital a widower. Seven hundred and twenty hours since he'd watched that casket lower the body of his wife into the cold, dark ground.

And the agony was still so fresh. He couldn't pass by the bench outside of the precinct without seeing Samantha sitting there with the sun making her hair sparkling. He couldn't walk by certain areas of the lab without seeing her bent over a microscope or running samples through machines or simply sitting on a couch in the lounge on her break with her shoes off and her feet tucked under her while sipping a tea and reading a book. He couldn't walk into his house without hearing her voice or her musical, endearing laugh echoing in his ears. And he couldn't look at his children and not see that smile that lit up her eyes and crinkled her nose.

He couldn't go in their bedroom without feeling her there, without smelling her. Without a million and one memories taking his breath away and bringing him to his knees. And when he'd gone up there, after walking into an empty and lonely house, he sat on the edge of their bed and stared at that wedding ring on his hand and looked around the room and cried. It was easier to cry when he was alone. Which was why, when he had decided to call it an early day at the office, he had retreated home while the kids were still at school so they wouldn't have to bear witness to his pain and suffering.

So when he'd woken from a fitful sleep to the sounds of movement in his house and the bedside clock only reading quarter after one in the afternoon, he had gone down to investigate. The kids were at school and Carmen, who was spending the day with Speedle, had agreed to go and pick them up. And Flack knew for a fact that he had locked the front door and set the alarm and there would have been no way anyone could have broken in without him hearing it. And as he descended the stairs mumbling and cursing at the intrusion, he briefly wondered if he'd left the sliding door or the one in the garage unlocked to let anyone into his place.

He walked into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. His heart pounded in his chest. His breath caught in his throat. His entire body stiffened and goose bumps and shivers overtook his entire body at the sight of the person at the sink, scrubbing the dishes he'd left from the night before. Her hair tumbling to her shoulders and fluttering in the breeze coming in from the window. The sunlight bathing her in a soft, angelic glow as she worked away in a simply white cotton eyelit dress and her bare feet. Singing softly to herself to the Lonestar song playing on the radio.

"_We may be a thousand miles apart, but I'll be with you wherever you are. I'm already there, take a look around. I'm the sunshine in your hair, I'm the shadow on the ground.I'm the whisper in the wind, and I'll be there until the end. Can you feel the love that we share? Oh I'm already there."_

He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. Because the impossible had happened. A modern day miracle had occurred right there in Flushing, Queens.

She'd come back to him.

"Samantha?"

Did he even speak? Did the name even pass his lips? If it did, he certainly didn't hear it over the pounding of his heart.

She turned her head towards him at the sound of his voice. A bright, cheerful and beautiful smile spread from ear to ear. Her golden eyes sparkled, her freckled nose crinkled.

"Hi, Donnie," she chirped happily, and reaching for the dish towel that sat on the counter beside her, grabbed a hold of it and dried her hands.

"What?…How?…I don't…"

She was still smiling as she walked over to him. The dress swaying against her legs, the sunlight shining in her hair and on her peaceful, gentle face. She looked happy. She looked happy and well rested. And most of all she looked at peace. She wasn't suffering and bore no ill affects from the shooting that supposedly had claimed her life.

"Samantha?" his voice came out as a squeak this time, as emotion overcame him.

Sheer joy and utter relief that it had all been just a horrible, horrible mistake. That it had never happened. That he had never gotten that call and never made the decisions he had and had never sat on the edge of her bed, holding her hand and stroking her hair and kissing her forehead and whispering I love you's while she slipped away.

"I'm here," she told him, standing in front of him now, looking up at him with nothing but love and adoration in her eyes.

"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I watched you…I watched you die. I was there. I don't understand. This isn't real. It can't be real."

She reached out and took one of his hands and held it to the side of her face. So skin touched skin. So he could feel that she was warm and very much alive.

"I don't understand," he sobbed, allowing the tears to stream down his face as his fingertips drifting over every inch of her face.

"You don't need to right now," she told him, and captured his hand in hers once again and placed tender kisses along his finger tips and palm.

He shook his head, at the sheer craziness of it all. Because he could feel her. He could feel her soft skin and could breath her scent. And he could look in her eyes and hear her breathing and it was all to good to be true. All his praying and wishing and begging and pleading had come true. Against all hope and odds, his wife was there in front of him. Very much alive.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms and kissed her and held her as tightly as he could. He sobbed into her shoulder as she embraced him warmly, one hand on the small of his back and the other on the back of his head. He felt her fingers in his hair, the way her hand rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

"I don't understand," he cried against her. "You died…I was there…did you fake it? Was it all pretend? Did it never happen?"

"Shh, Donnie," she whispered into his ear. Her breath tickled his skin. "No questions, okay? Not right now."

"But I have questions. Lots of questions," he said, pulling away from her. "I need to know why. I need to know why you'd pretend something like that. Why'd you do that to me? To our kids? Why, Sammie? Why would you put them through that? Do you know what they've been through? Kieran and Mackenzie and Daniel…all the questions they've asked that I've had no answers to. The nightmares they've had and listening to them cry themselves to sleep. Why? Why would you do that?"

"There was nothing I could do to stop it, Donnie," she told him gently.

"What's that suppose to mean? So this was some kind of ruse? Some kind of undercover thing? Whose idea was it? Mac's? Some kind of case against the Wilder gang that he needed help with? I don't understand why you'd go along with something like that, Samantha!"

"I didn't have a choice. Please, just listen to me."

"You didn't have a choice? Who put you up to this? Whose sick fucking idea was it for you to fake your death and rip your kids' hearts out of their chests! To destroy me!"

"Don, please, I need you to listen to me, baby."

"Why, Samantha? Why the hell would you do this to me! I love you! I've always loved you! I will always love you! And you did this to me! You do something like this!?"

She shook her head. "You don't understand…"

"No…I don't…and I should just be happy and relieved that you're here. And I am, baby. Believe me, I am. But you can't just come back here and expect everything to be the same after doing something like this!"

"I didn't do anything," she vowed. "This wasn't my fault. You need to know that. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes, you did. You left me. You left me to pick up the pieces! You left me to deal with shit I don't know how to deal with! And you come back and expect me to say it's okay you put me through utter fucking hell?"

"Listen to me," she laid her palms on his chest. "Look at me and listen to me, Don. Because I need you to hear me and understand me."

He shook his head and wiped his tears away on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Please," she pleaded. "Please look at me."

He sniffled noisily and looked down at her.

"I love you, Don. I always have. I always will. There was never a time I didn't love you. No matter what we went through, no matter what we faced. I loved you and I will never stop loving you. You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do…but…"

"And I know you loved me."

"No. It's not past tense, Sammie. I love you. Present tense. Love you."

"I can't stay…I came here to see you but I can't stay."

"What? What do you mean you can't stay?"

"I'm just here for a little while," she told him. "And I wish I could stay. Believe me, I do. Because I miss you and I would give anything to be here with you and our kids. But I can't and I need you to understand that."

He shook his head. "I don't…I don't understand. You came back but you can't stay. I don't get that. At all."

"I want you to know that I'm okay. That everything is fine. That I'm watching you and thinking about you and I'm missing you every single day. And that I'm always around you. In all the places you least expect. Look around you, Donnie. I'm the sunshine in your hair, I'm the shadow on the ground. I'm the whisper in the wind. I'm everywhere and I need you to realize that."

The tears flowed again. Because he knew that nothing he did or said could change what was going to happen next.

"I'm always here with you," Sam said. "No matter what. Don't worry about me anymore. And don't worry about the kids. They're going to be okay. And so will you. I promise. You're going to be okay. You're going to meet someone and fall in love and.."

"No," he shook his head vigorously. "Only you, Sammie. For the rest of my life. Only you."

"You'll see," she said, and smiled gently. "Thank you. For everything you ever gave me in my life. For giving me our kids. For giving me you. You'll never know how much I love you."

"Don't do this, Samantha. Please, don't do this."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I know I promised to never leave you. But I couldn't have stopped it. And neither could have Stella. You need to stop blaming her. Please. Because it doesn't help make it any easier on you, Donnie. I know you're angry and you're hurt. But please, don't shut everyone out. Promise me you won't."

"I promise you," he choked out.

"I have to go now," she said. "I just wanted you to see that I'm okay. That everything is fine now. I thought seeing me would help you."

"Don't leave," he begged. "Samantha…please don't leave."

"I have to. Maybe I'll be back. When you least expect it."

Hot tears slipped down his cheeks as he reached out and laid a hand on the side of her face. He rested his forehead against hers. Felt her breath on his face. Breathed in her scent one last time. He kissed her. Revelling in the touch of her lips.

"Goodbye, Samantha," he whispered.

"No…" she said, laying her fingertips over his lips. "It's never goodbye. Always remember that."

* * *

He bolted awake with a choking sob. Finding himself sitting up in bed on top of a mess of wrinkled and twisted sheets and his face wet from his tears. His chest heaved and struggled to draw breath. His entire body was drenched with sweat and shook from the grief that now enveloped him.

A dream. It had been a dream. All the elation he had felt to see her standing there and to feel her warm and breathing and to be looking into her eyes and touching her and kissing her lips was gone.

She was gone. There'd be no miracle. She wasn't coming back. She was far beyond reach.

But that brief moment of experiencing all those feelings and all that love, whether it was real or not, was something that Flack would never forget. Questions had been answered. Fears had been quelled. She had come to him to let him know that she was okay. That she wasn't suffering and she wasn't alone and that she was happy and at peace. That he had done the right thing and she held no ill will towards him. She had let him know that although he couldn't see her, he could feel her. That she would always be there watching over him and their kids. And that she knew, even if he didn't at that time, that he was going to be happy again.

He was going to live again.

It didn't make the loss or the grief any easier to bear. Because he would do anything, anything, to have her back. But to have had that time with her, to shed those tears with her and tell her he loved her and say good-bye to her, was everything he needed and more. Even if it was just a dream.

It had felt so real. As he placed his fingertips to his lips, he could still feel and taste her mouth on his. His skin still burned at her touch. Her scent still lingered in his memory.

He never wanted to let go.

The sounds of life and reality trickled into the bedroom. He could hear the twins laughing and playing in the front yard with Speedle. He could hear Carmen and Kieran downstairs talking in the kitchen. He could hear Mikayla's babbling down the hall. Most likely having just woken up from her own nap and looking for someone to come and get here.

But he didn't hear Sam.

Flack sighed and wiped his tears away with the front of his shirt and glanced over at the bedside clock. It was quarter after four. He had been asleep, and dreaming, for three hours. Was that really possible? Or had the time on the clock in the dream not really been the real one? Everything about it had seemed so vivid and lifelike.

Sam had seemed so lifelike. As if she had never left.

She's gone, Flack, he told himself. She's gone and you need to get a grip and realize that there isn't going to be any miracles. She isn't going to come walking through the front door. She isn't going to wander into the bedroom in those stupid cartoon character pyjamas and fluffy slippers. She isn't going to greet you at the door with a hug and a kiss and a bright smile. Shit like that didn't happen in real life. This wasn't a soap opera or a movie. Real people didn't take a bullet to the chest and suffer massive strokes that left them brain dead and somehow come out of it all perfectly fine.

The fact of the matter was, as much as it sucked, this was real life. With real life problems and real life loss and as badly as he wanted it all to go away, this was his life. He was a widower. A single father to four kids. And somehow, someway, he had to find it inside of himself to pull his shit together and deal. If not for himself, for them. And for Sam.

He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest and took in deep, slow breaths. Getting a grip on himself before getting on with what was left of his life.

He opened his eyes and climbed out of bed. He had fallen asleep in the dress shirt and pants that he had worn to work. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser and headed for the ensuite bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. The was more grey in his hair now. In fact, he'd almost gone completely grey and he was only forty. His eyes were dark and handed. His face was lined with exhaustion and grief. He was forty but looked and felt eighty.

_You're going to be okay…._

Sam's words to him in the dream echoed in his ears.

_You're going to be okay and you're going to meet someone and fall in love…_

He highly doubted the last part. He had wanted to tell her, when she'd said it, that she was nuts and seriously delusional if she thought that that was going to happen. Because he'd already loved, and lost, the best thing that had ever happened to him. And no woman, no matter how wonderful they were, would ever make him feel that way again. That overwhelming, all consuming love that brought you to your knees and kicked you in the ass. He couldn't give all of himself to another woman. And no one deserved to not be given everything. Or to have to compete with a ghost.

He leaned over the sink and cupped more cold water in his hands and splashed his face with it. He stood there, his hands on the sink ledge, staring into the water swirling down the drain as he prayed for some help. Some help in getting on with things. With coping. With feeling human again.

With making the damn pain go away.

Sighing heavily, Flack reached out and turned the water off and snagged a towel off of the rack over the toilet. He dried his face and hands and changed into fresh clothes. Tossing the old, wrinkled ones in the laundry hamper in the closet on his way out of the bedroom.

He paused at the top of the stairs, his hand on the banister as he listened to what was left of his family getting on, albeit with some difficulty, with their lives. Than he back tracked and went to the nursery at the end of the hall. Where his daughter was standing in her crib, her hands tightly gripping the railing as she bounced up and down and shrieked happily while intently staring at the rays of sunshine that spilled into her room and cast shadows on the hardwood floor.

I'm already there. Take a look around I'm the sunshine in your hair. I'm the shadow on the ground.

He smiled as those words came over him.

"What are you looking at, baby girl?" he asked his toddler daughter, carefully stepping over the shadows. As if disturbing them would destroy something precious.

"Up, daddeee," Mikayla cooed, stretching her arms out to him. "Up!"

He reached into the crib and scooped that tiny body up effortlessly into his arms. Mikayla greeted him with a noisy, sloppy kiss on the cheek and than curled one tiny arm around his neck.

"Ook, Daddeee!" she squealed, and with her free hand, pointed at the ground. "Ook!"

"I'm looking," he told her.

And together, father and daughter stood in the silence and peacefulness of that room, staring at those shadows.

* * *

Kieran was alone in the kitchen. Aunt Carmen had run down into the basement to grab some things from the freezer to make for supper. He sat at the cluttered kitchen table, still in his school uniform as he struggled to concentrate on his math homework. Math wasn't his strong suit. Or science. He was more the athlete than that mathlete. He excelled in sports and gym class and loved nothing more than being outside in the sunlight and fresh air. Not cooped up in the damn house staring at a bunch of numbers that made absolutely no sense to him.

It just was not his thing. He wasn't Uncle Shel or Uncle Adam.

He wasn't his mother.

Tears pricked at his eyes and his throat tightened as he thought about her. He didn't talk about it much. His mother's death. The way he looked at it, she was gone and she wasn't coming back and all the talking in the world wasn't going to change that fact. Some scum bag had taken her away and he was never going to see her again. He was never going to get those neatly packaged lunches with all his favourite stuff inside and those little notes she always tucked somewhere. Telling him to have a nice day and be good and that she loved him.

He always laughed and felt embarrassed when he opened one of those letters and his buddies ribbed him about it. But the truth of the matter was, he loved them. And when the teasing was done and his buddies moved on to other things and weren't paying attention, he folded the notes back up and stuffed them in his pocket. So he could go home afterwards and kiss her and thank her and than put that note somewhere special. He had a shoe box in his closet nearly full of them and other things that meant something to him. All from his mother.

He had gone into that shoebox just after his father had come home from the hospital and told him that his mother was dead. He would never forget the way that his father cried while breaking the news. He'd never seen his dad break down and lose control like that. It had scared Kieran. Because dad was the strong one. Dad was the one that kept things calm and the things running smoothly. The one that settled mom down when she got a little too excited or carried away with someone. The one who took care of her when grandpa died and she was overcome with grief. Dad wasn't suppose to lose it like that.

But he had. And Kieran had sat there feeling helpless. Not knowing what to do or say to make things better. So instead of offering words, he had walked over to his father and wrapped his arms around him and they had held each other and cried.

And than he'd gone to his room and into the closet for that shoebox. Selecting a single picture from it before putting the box back into it's safe place.

He carried that picture everywhere with him. He'd placed it into a plastic sandwich bag so it wouldn't get damaged. He kept it in his locker. Slipped it into each text book and binder for the different classes he attended. Placed it under his pillow at night. And when the emotions became too much, when he missed her beyond belief, he'd pull it out and look at it. He'd run a finger over her face and tell her he loved her and that he missed her.

And that was the best mommy anyone could ever ask for.

And he took it out now. From where he'd had it stashed in the back of his math binder and stared down at it with tears welling in his eyes.

Kieran looked up as his father came into the room. He quickly shoved the picture back into the binder and placed a hand to his forehead so his dad couldn't see him near tears and pretended to be focused on his homework. Dad didn't need to see him cry. Dad needed him to be brave and strong.

"How was school, K?" Flack asked, as he went to the table and bent down to press a kiss to his son's head before carrying Mikayla to her high chair and depositing her in it. He got her a sippy cup of juice and some animal crackers to keep her happy and pacified.

He had seen the startled look that had come over his son's face when he walked into the room, and that he had tried hard to hide something without his father realizing. And the way he had attempted to hide the fact he was sad. But Flack wasn't going to call the kid out on it. He was simply going to be patient and wait to see if Kieran came to him.

"It was okay," his son replied.

"Just okay?" Flack asked, as he went to the fridge and took out the jug of milk.

Kieran nodded, watching as his dad got two plastic tumblers from the cupboard above the sink and filled them with milk. Than grabbed a box of Oreo cookies from the pantry.

"Just okay," Kieran conceded, as his dad brought the milk and cookies to the table. "We're going to be having supper soon," he informed his father. "Aunt Carmen's gone downstairs to get stuff."

"So?" Flack asked, as he set the Oreos and the cups down before pulling out the chair across from his son and sitting down. "So we have dessert first. Remember what your mom always said? Life's short. So eat dessert first."

Kieran smiled at that. "I thought you didn't like Oreos."

"It's not that I don't like them," Flack said, as he opened the package. "It's that I never got a chance to have any because your mom had the whole thing eaten before I managed to even get one."

"Mommy always did like Oreos," Kieran declared and reached for one.

Flack watched his son as he took the cookie apart. Setting the top aside so he could eat the middle first.

Just like his mother.

"So do you want to tell me what's going on?" Flack asked, as he helped himself to a cookie.

"What do you mean?" Kieran asked.

"I got a phone call today, at work, from your principal. He said you got into a fight in the hallway."

Kieran shrugged. "It was nothing."

"He told me if was with a grade eight boy. That the two of you apparently had words and you took offence to something he said and you hit him."

His son nodded.

"Doesn't look like there's been anything done to you though," Flack observed.

"There's not 'cause I handed him his ass," Kieran declared.

Flack smirked and fought to hold back a chuckle.

"Sorry," Kieran apologized. "Butt. I handed him his butt."

"You wanna tell me why?"

The ten year old shook his head.

"I think you should, buddy."

"It was no big deal," Kieran told him.

"It must have been for you to hand this kid his ass. A kid in a higher grade. You know how your mom and I…how I…feel about fighting K. It doesn't solve anything and you know it. The only thing it does is get you and the other guy hurt, land you in a lot of hot water and piss your parents off. So if you want me to have a reason not to ground you, buddy, I think you should tell me the reason you did it."

Kieran sighed heavily. "You have to promise you won't get upset, dad."

"Is it that bad?"

"Promise me, dad."

"Okay…I promise you that I won't get upset."

Another sigh.

"Kieran…."

"This guy, Stephen Chambers. That's his name. He's an asshole."

Flack arched an eyebrow and looked at his son pointedly. "Kieran…"

"I'm sorry but he is!" his son cried. "He's a huge asshole and I can't stand him! He's always mouthing off about us!"

"About who?"

"Us! Me and Daniel and Mackenzie. Because our parents are cops. Blue collar. City workers. And his dad is some snot nose, stuck up, arrogant P-R of an accountant. And he makes fun of his 'cause our parents are flatfoots. That's what he called you guys dad!"

"I've been called worse, Kieran. Trust me."

"And he always makes fun of Daniel because he's a bit, you know, strange."

"Your brother isn't strange, Kieran. He's OCD and ADHD."

"I know that! Everyone knows that! And I've tried to tell that asshole too but he won't listen and he still keeps talking shit about all of us! And I've wanted to hit him before. Trust me, I did! I wanted to kick the crap out of him tons of times when he wags his big goddamn mouth."

"Take it easy, K," Flack said calmly and softly.

"I hate him. I hate him and I taught him a lesson."

"Because he made fun of your brother? Because he said something about me being a cop?"

"No!" Kieran cried. "Because he said something about mommy!"

Flack nodded slowly and sipped his milk.

"I was so mad, dad! I was walking by him on my way to my locker and when I heard him say it, I was so mad. So mad that it didn't seem like me beating him up. It seemed like I was some other kid doing those things."

"We're going to have to talk about that, Kieran. Take you to talk to someone. Because that's not good. To flip out that bad where you don't know what you're doing. That's not good at all and we need to get a handle on that, okay? We need to get her temper in check. Alright?"

Kieran nodded.

"Now tell me what this asshole said about your mom."

Kieran grinned at the fact his dad used the word asshole. "It's really bad, though, dad," he said.

"K, look what I do for a living. I hear bad every day, buddy."

The ten year old took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He said that people shouldn't be so sad that she's dead because it's one less pig out on the streets."

Flack sighed heavily.

Kieran dissolved into tears.

"It's okay, Kieran," Flack said, as he got to his feet and went around the table. He wrapped his arms around his son and let his first born sob into his stomach. "It's okay," he whispered, stroking Kieran's dark hair. "I know it hurts, K."

"I miss, mommy," he cried. "I miss mommy and I want her back."

"I know you do. And I want her back, too. So bad it hurts. But there's nothing I can do to bring her back. Nothing anything can do. And that sucks to hear, I know. But that's life, K. Unfortunately, that's life."

"But it's not fair! Why her? Why my mom?"

"I don't know why," Flack told him. "No one does. It just happened. And if she could come back and tell us why, trust me, she would."

"If she came back, I'd never let her go again," Kieran declared. "No one would take her away from us ever again. You wouldn't let them, dad, would you? Take her away?"

"She wouldn't be going anywhere," Flack vowed. "I'd even chain her to the water heater in the basement if I had to."

Kieran managed a laugh and he pulled away from his father. "I feel so guilty," he sniffled.

"About what?"

"Sometimes I'm angry. At mommy. Angry at her for leaving us."

"You know, what?" Flack ran a hand over his son's hair. "That's okay. Wanna know why?"

Kieran nodded and looked up at his father.

"Because there's times I am really, really, really angry at her too."

"You are?" Kieran asked.

"Sure," Flack replied, clearing the tears off of his son's face with gentle fingertips. "I didn't want her to go. To have to go through life without her. To have to watch you guys go through your lives without her. And that hurts. Really bad."

Kieran nodded in agreement.

"But it wasn't your mom's fault. What happened. It wasn't her fault and there was nothing she could have done to prevent what happened to her. So being angry, at her, at other people, it doesn't do us any good, K."

"But what about whoever did it, dad? Can't we be mad at them?"

"Sure we can. Because if it wasn't for them, she'd still be here."

"They'll catch them, right dad? Uncle Danny and Uncle Adam and everyone else? And Uncle Tim now that he works there, too? They'll catch them, right?"

"They'll do their best, K."

"You could do it, dad. I know you could. You could find them. Find whoever did those to, mommy. I know you could. If anyone could find them, it's you."

Flack sighed. "It's not my fight," he reluctantly told his son.

"Yes!" Kieran argued. "It is! Mommy was your wife! If anyone should be finding them it should be you! For her, dad! For us! You should be finding them and blowing their brains out!"

"K, listen to me, son," Flack knelt down in front of Kieran's chair and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Doing that…doing that would only take me away from you and your brothers and sister. You see that, don't you? That if I did something like that, I wouldn't just lose my job, buddy. I'd be in jail. And I'd lose you guys. And you guys are the only thing I have left."

"But no one would have to know, dad! No one would have to know it was you!" Kieran told him. "You could just do it and walk away and no one would know!"

"No, K. I couldn't. You know that. Because there's ways that things could be traced back to me and you know that."

"But they can't just get away with it, dad! They can't! You have to make sure they pay for what they did!"

"They will pay, Kieran. I promise you that. But it's not up to me to make sure they do."

"But you could…"

"I don't want to hear you talk like this ever again," Flack said sternly.

It was startling to hear words like that, so hateful and determined, coming out of a young child's mouth. And he didn't want Kieran knowing, in any way, shape or form, of the plan that he and Scagnetti had concocted and were now slowly bringing together with the help of Angell and Tim Speedle. Even Carmen didn't know. And that was the way Flack wanted to keep it.

"But dad…"

"Kieran…enough…never again do you talk like that, hear me?"

He sniffled and nodded.

"They will pay. I promise you that. Now I've got another question."

"I'm not in trouble for fighting?"

"I'm not happy you fought, but no, you're not in trouble. We'll let this one pass. I want to know what you're hiding in your binder there."

Kieran blinked.

"When I walked in the kitchen, I saw you hide something, K. And I want to know what it is."

"It's nothing, dad. Honest."

"Maybe, maybe not. But I'd like to see it for myself."

Kieran sighed and reached into the back of his binder and pulled up the neatly and carefully preserved photograph and held it out to his dad.

Flack took the object from him. Inside of that plastic baggie he now held, was a photograph Flack himself had taken two days after Kieran had been born. Sam was on the couch in the seating area of her room, in her favourite flannel pyjamas and the sunlight streaming in on her as she smiled brightly as she cuddled their new son.

_Don't worry about the kids, they'll be alright_….

Flack choked back emotion and handed the photo back to his son.

"You're going to be okay," he told his first born. "You and Daniel and Mackenzie and Mikki are going to be okay."

"Promise, dad?" Kieran asked hopefully.

"With all my heart," he replied.

* * *

Danny Messer stood out the covered front porch, the hood of his Nike sweatshirt pulled over his head as he rocked back and forth on his heels. His hands shoved deep in his pockets. It was ten o'clock at night. Four hours past the end of a triple shift and too wound up to sleep. Since the day he and Flack had had it out over the insane idea about going after the Wilder gang, the two old friends hadn't spoken a word to each other. Danny had done a lot of thinking. A lot of soul searching. And barely any sleeping. And when an unexpected package had turned up on his desk that day, the contents had all but made up his mind for him.

Which was why he now found himself, staring out at the driving rain that had started an hour ago, on that front porch in Flushing, Queens.

The screen door clicked open and he looked over his shoulder as Flack came out in a pair of baggy faded jeans and black t-shirt and bare feet.

"What's up, Dan-o?" he asked. "Carmen answered the door and said you were here to see me. You hate me that much you don't want to come in?"

Danny shook his head miserably. "I don't hate you, Flack. I love you. Like a brother, you know that."

"So what's going on? What are you doing here so late?" Flack asked.

"I needed to see you. To talk to you. About what you proposed a little while back. About the…" Danny stuck his head over the railing and looked up and down the street.

"They're gone," Flack assured them. "I sent the plainclothes packing a few days ago."

"About the Wilder gang," Danny continued in a quiet voice. "You still going ahead with what you were talking about?"

"You hear to bust me or rat me out if I say yes?" Flack asked.

Danny shook his head. "I have to show you something. And I am breaking massive lab protocol by bringing this here and showing you."

Flack frowned. "What's going on, Danny?"

"This should be in evidence," Danny said. "And I haven't photographed it or catalogued it or nothing. Because to be honest, I don't think putting it in evidence will matter a whole hell of a lot. But it might give you and whoever you got helping out more incentive to get the job done so to speak."

"Christ, Mess, what is it? This is a little too double-o seven for me."

"This does not go past me and you, Flack. Swear to me you don't breath a word of it to anyone."

"I swear to you. Now what…"

"I got a package today. I got to my office and it was just sitting there. This small cardboard box. No proper label on it, no return address. Nothing. Just my name. Danny Messer. On top in black magic marker. No detective, no nothing."

"Okay….what is it?"

Danny sighed heavily. "It's two things, actually. Of Sam's."

"Danny…what's going on?"

Danny removed both hands from his pockets, bringing with him an evidence back in each. "These came with a note that said I should give these to Detective Flack. In case he wanted them."

The CSI held the objects out.

Flack reached out with both hands to accept them. His heart pounding and his eyes widening at the sight before him. In one bag was a police issued nine millimeter Glock handgun. In the other was an NYPD badge. It glistened in the rays cast from the porch light above their heads. He could clearly see the number.

9118.

The air went out of his body and his legs went weak. He slid down the brick wall behind him and sat on his heels as he stared at that badge and that gun cradled protectively in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Don…" Danny said. "I am so goddamn sorry."

He inhaled a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face.

"I came here to show you those. And to tell you I've changed my mind."

Flack looked up at him. Sheer torment in his eyes and on his face.

"I'm in," Danny said simply.

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you guys! Even the lurkers! But please, show me some love peeps! I just want to know who is reading and enjoying!**

**Special thanks to:**

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**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

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**Soccer-bitch**


	105. Homeward Bound

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**A/N: POSTINGS WILL SLOW DOWN SOON AGAIN FOLKS. AS THE FAMILY MEMBERS WHO DON'T UNDERSTAND THE WHOLE WRITING THING AND GET ON ME ABOUT IT WILL BE HOME FROM VACATION. I HOPE YOU ALL CONTINUE TO STICK WITH ME! AND THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT LAST CHAPTER. I WAS UNSURE ABOUT WRITING THE DREAM PART AND I AM SO GLAD YOU ALL LOVED IT! THANKS, BEG 75**

* * *

**Homeward Bound**

"I've seen a sunset that would make you cry  
And colors of a rainbow reaching 'cross the sky  
The moon in all its phases,  
but your love amazes me

Don't you ever doubt this love of mine  
You're the only one for me  
You give me hope, you give reason  
You give me something to believe in  
Forever faithfully,  
your love amazes me

I've prayed for miracles that never came  
I got down on my knees in the pouring rain  
But only you could save me  
Your love amazes me."  
-Your Love Amazes Me, John Berry

* * *

Sam couldn't wait to get home.

Fourteen days in the hospital had felt like fourteen years. Under normal circumstances, she would have been home in less than two. But like anything that seemed to happen in their lives, Kieran had not arrived under, or since faced, normal circumstances. For two days his lung infection seemed to improve and than he woke up in the middle of the night gasping for breath and coughing and sputtering foul, scary looking greenish black phlegm. It had terrified both of his parents and had them parked by his bedside for nearly a solid two days in the Neonatal ICU while he received heavy doses of antibiotics and was kept on a breathing tube until his scared, sick lungs were able to properly draw breath on their own.

It had been a sleepless, frightening time. Each time the EKG machine beeped or made a loud noise they'd bolt upright in their seats and become overwhelmed by the paranoia that their little boy wasn't going to make it. That something had gone horribly wrong during his birth and there was nothing that could be done to fix it. Meconium, the doctor had said upon looking at further chest x-rays. It wasn't amniotic fluid after all that the baby had swallowed.

Flack had lost it on the reserved, bespectacled doctor with the snow white hair and the gentle English accent. He hadn't slept in two days and was just about ready to go insane if he sat in that hospital any longer. He didn't understand how it could be me conium when he was the person who had changed that God awful shit the day after his son's birth.

"Well sometimes, Mr Flack, they have a smaller movement at the time of birth and swallow it and this is the result."

"The result, huh?" he'd been two seconds away from grabbing that cold, unfeeling doctor and tossing him against a wall. "Than I guess you better fucking fix it!"

To add insult to injury, when Kieran had taken ill, Sam had been discharged from her private room and moved to what was known as a bunk room across the hall from the NICU. Bunk room? Flack had nearly keeled over with laughter at that one. It was nothing more than a goddamn jail cell. No windows so she could see sunlight or breathe fresh air. Nothing more than a twin bed done up in standard hospital sheets and pushed up against the wall to make room for a rickety metal framed chair and a night stand with a lamp on it. There was barely any room to turn around and scratch your ass if you wanted to. And a bathroom with nothing more than a shower stall and a toilet two doors down that she had to share with five other bunk rooms.

And to make matters worse, the mother, and only the mother, was allowed to stay in what was essentially no better than a jail cell. Hell, even jail cells had their own sink and toilet and maybe even a window. No visitors allowed in the bunk room and no dads having over night visits. Over night visits? Who the hell was thinking about shit like that when your kid was hooked up to a breathing machine ten feet across the hall? And dads weren't allowed to just hang around all night in the nursery. So while his wife bawled her eyes out from post-partum blues, loneliness and sheer fright and their son was under medical supervision in the NICU, Flack went home and spent the entire night tossing and turning and staring at the clock until seven thirty in the morning hit and he could keep up and get dressed and head back to be with his family again. Sometimes he spent his nights in the glider chair next to the empty crib, looking at all the things they'd purchased for their son and wondered when in the hell, if ever, their baby was going to come home.

Sam could be waiting for him at the elevators on the third floor at exactly five to eight each morning. Still in her pyjamas and slippers and her house coat and her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Looking weary and depressed and lost. And the minute he stepped off that elevator she was throwing herself at him and bawling. Begging and pleading with him to take her home. To get her out of there. She couldn't stay there one more minute. And he'd hold her, and stroke her hair and assure her that it was going to be alright. She needed to be there for their son. That Kieran needed his mother and her touch. And that before she knew it, he'd be coming home. For good.

Although there were times it felt as if it was never going to happen.

Sinclair had been good about the whole thing when Flack said he needed to take some personal leave. He didn't care if it was unpaid or if it was too late to be borrowing from his vacation hours. All he cared about was being there for his wife and his son. And Sinclair had sat there behind his desk, patiently and intently listening to Flack ramble on about everything that was going wrong in his life and why the hell was this happening to him? The Chief never said a damn word, and when it all became to much for Flack to bear, he didn't care if he looked like a wimp in front of the big brass and he broke down under the whole weight and stress of the situation.

It had shocked him however when Sinclair had quietly got out of his chair and stood at the side of his chair and laid a hand on his shoulder and told him that everything was going to be okay. And even offered him a box of tissue. And told the detective Sargent to take as much time as he needed. Paid. And that his two weeks vacation didn't being until he, and his wife, brought that little baby home.

And now that day had finally, blessedly arrived.

Kieran had been breathing fine on his own and off antibiotics for a day and a half. The doctors were leaving him on the IV for low blood sugar and had changed it to a portable get up that was carried around in a small blue duffel bag. A home care nurse would check on him twice a day. And would also make sure that Sam's moods were stable and she wasn't in danger of hurting herself or the baby. Flack didn't think twice about her having a depression problem. She just wanted to go home. And once she got there, he was sure that the black cloud she'd seemed to be under would lift and she'd be back to her normal self.

In fact, as she stood, in her boots and winter coat beside the now empty incubator in the NICU, watching as Flack buckled their son into a his carry/car seat, she was practically bouncing on her heels in anticipation.

"Getting a little excited there, Freckles?" he asked, snapping the shoulder harnesses in place and testing the tightness by placing two fingers in between them and the baby.

She nodded and beamed. Normally she would have been asking him to not call her that because it drove her insane, but this afternoon, nothing was going to ruin her good mood. Even the slight tenderness that still lingered from her ordeal two weeks ago.

"Did you pick up his registration and everything?" she asked. "I don't want to forget anything because I don't want to be coming back here. Ever." She smiled sheepishly at the nurse lingering in the wings waiting to check the adequacy of the car seat. "No offence," she said.

The young woman waved it off.

"I already picked it up this morning and mailed it off. I told you that, babe."

"And I am just checking to make sure. He's got everything? All his sleepers that we brought from home? The pictures that we taped to the outside of his incubator? What about his Cookie Monster? Did you get him?"

"Sammie…relax. I've got everything. I promise. I even got something extra special for him."

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Flack pulled out a small navy blue wool cap with NYPD written across the front of it in white letters.

"Check this out," he said, and carefully and tenderly slipped the hat over his son's dark hair. "Pretty cool, huh? I had no idea the uniform place sold this kind of stuff. One of my guys told me to go there and get one. I know you don't like the kid in hats, but it's cold out and it'll keep his ears warm."

"I guess it looks kinda cute," Sam said.

"I'm not done yet," Flack told her as he stood up and stepped aside to let the nurse inspect the car seat. He stuck his hand into his other pocket and pulled out a matching hat. A much bigger one that he slipped onto his own head. "What'cha think? Is it me?"

Her eyes widened. "I think you're mental," she said. "Although there is something dangerously sexy about the look. All unshaven and dark and broody. Like you're on your way to rob a bank or something."

"I got one for you, too," he said, fishing a third cap out of his pocket.

"I am so not wearing a hat," she declared.

"Come on. It'll be cute," Flack told her, unfolded the hat and taking two short strides until he was standing in front of her. He slipped the cap onto her head and gently pulled her hair out that caught up underneath it and took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. "There. You're adorable. We look like the poster family for the NYPD."

"I don't know about you, but I look stupid," she complained. "I can't wear hats. You know that."

"What? You look cute in a hat. Remember that time we went to that Mets and Cardinals game and you took my hat and put it on. I think you looked hot in it. Even made you wear it later when we got home. Remember?"

"You have got some sick fetishes," Sam declared. "Are you sure you have everything, Donnie?"

"Honey, for the fifteenth time in an hour, yes, I am sure I have everything. No you just go and sit your ass in that wheelchair over there so the nurse can push you downstairs while I carry Kieran once he's ready to go."

"I don't see why I can't just walk down," she huffed.

"Because from the waist down you're being held together by stitches and I really don't want any of those stitches popping. Okay? Now humour me and go and sit."

"But I just…"

He kissed her once more. "Sit," he demanded. Than smiled. "Please."

"You are so lucky you tossed that in at the end there, mister," she said, and retreated to the waiting wheelchair.

"We're already to go," the nurse announced, finishing with Kieran and than standing up and moving over to a small workstation and grabbing a thick black binder. "He's al buckled in properly. I'll check this base when we get downstairs. Now I just need to check one of your wrists bands to the one I took off of Kieran's ankle later and than you can sign him out and be on your way."

"Thank God!" Sam exclaimed, than yawned noisily. "Because I so need a nap. In my own bed."

"And what makes you think you're going to nap?" Flack asked, as he moved over to where the nurse was to complete all the necessary paper work to finally spring their kid loose. "You've got a newborn to take care of. There's none of this napping whenever you feel like it like you used to do when you were pregnant. We've got the goods now to show for all our hard work and stress."

"And he's got a father who is more than capable of taking care of him while his mommy catches a couple of hours sleep," Sam pointed out.

Flack glanced over his shoulder and grinned at her. "Smart ass," he said.

She smiled and winked at him and sighed happily.

It was going to be good to be home.

* * *

The sun was high and bright in the sky but the temperatures were well below freezing. The snow was inches thick and crunched noisily under your feet. Yet to Samantha and Flack, no day could possibly be more perfect and beautiful. He had went ahead and moved from the short stay unit to the front entrance of the hospital while Sam waited with the nurse and the baby already fast asleep in his car seat. Wrapped snugly and warmly in a blue polar fleece bunting bag that fit over the seat itself and left just his face and head showing.

The nurse quickly checked the base attached securely in the middle of the back seat and gave a nod of approval before Flack took the carrier and clipped it into the base and than helped Sam up into the SUV and into the seat behind empty passenger seat. Taking the time to buckled her in just as lovingly and tenderly as he had with their baby.

They gave the nurse a final farewell and thanked her for all of her help and the care that Kieran had been shown during his rather long, unfortunate stay and that was that. That part of their lives were behind them and new part was set to begin.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Flack asked, as he clipped on his own seat belt and put the SUV into drive. "That show you made me watch all the time. The one that follows the parents and their newborns for forty-eight hours. The one with all the cameras following them around. And the infa-red ones that they put in the bedroom to watch these people go crazy in the middle of the night."

"Bringing Home Baby," Sam said in response.

"I am so glad there's no cameras in our apartment so the whole world can see what a monumental fuck up I am as a father."

"I wish you wouldn't put yourself down like that," she said. "You've been amazing since Kieran was born. I would have gone completely mental if it wasn't for you. You didn't even get to celebrate your birthday because we were stuck in here."

"We only missed it by two days. No big deal. You want we can order in some take out tonight, I can grab one of them ice cream cakes that you're in love with from the grocery story."

"It's your birthday. Not mine."

"Does it look like I care, babe? I already got the best early birthday present ever when Kieran was born. It's not going to damage me not to have celebrated my thirty-first."

"But I never got you anything," she argued. "Not even a card."

"Sammie, seriously. You gave me everything. Proof of that is sleeping in that car seat right alongside of you."

She smiled.

"You happy to be going home, babe?" he asked, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

"I am. Ecstatically happy. But I'm so tired. I hope Carmen doesn't have a lot of people over to see us. Because I don't know how sociable I'm going to be."

"I think it's just her, Danny, Adam and Gus. Everyone else is working as far as I know. But if you don't want to hang around and talk or whatever, just leave the baby with me and all of them and have a nap. No one is going to hold it against you for needing to sleep."

"I know. And our bed is calling to me. And my pillow. Actually your pillow because it's always been more comfy than mine and I love the smell on it. I always sleep with it when you're on nights, you know."

"I know. Because I every time I lie down when I get home all I smell is your shampoo. And strawberry scented shampoo isn't really my thing."

"Than give me back my favourite shirt of yours and I will give you back your pillow."

"I wore it yesterday. It needs to be washed."

"I want the smell on it!" she argued. "The smell is the whole reason I want it. So I feel close to you."

"How about I wash it and than spray some cologne on it?"

"It's not the same thing. Would you wash it and than wear it a bit and than give it back to me?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"It gets your smell back on there and makes it all cozy for me again," she reasoned.

He sighed. "The things I don't do for you, woman."

"It's just the way I like it," she said. Than giggled.

"What's so funny?" Flack asked.

"It's Kieran. He's got his lips pursed and their moving like he's sucking on a bottle. He must be dreaming about eating. Or maybe it's some kind of reflex babies have. Whatever it is, it's funny. It's making his nose move like he's a rabbit."

Flack smiled. "He's beautiful, Sammie. Everything about him. You notice he's got your nose and your freckles? And your long eyelashes?"

"Yeah," she said, running fingertip down her son's nose. "But he looks just like you, Donnie."

"He's even got my big feet and hands. See the size of them for a baby? You know what they say about a guy with big feet and hands?"

"I do. And in your case it may be true, but I can't believe you'd say something like that about our son."

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I was thinking more along the lines that it means we have big brains."

Sam laughed. The sudden noise causing the baby to startle, but not awaken. She laid her hand on his stomach and rubbed softly through the layers of blankets and clothes. "That is so not what you were thinking and you know it," she told her husband.

"Hey, I'm being good, alright? Guess I figure there's how much longer until I can get actually get some action from you?"

"I have to go for an exam next week to check on all my stitches. But if I keep taking the sitz baths and my antibiotics to cut down on the chances of infections, than you're looking at maybe another four weeks."

"What? Another four weeks? That's six weeks, babe! I thought you told me that it was a month altogether."

"Another four weeks, Don. The doctor said six weeks and no sooner. And honestly, I love you and I am unbelievably attracted to you, but that is the last thing on my mind. And it's probably going to be the last thing on my mind for awhile. So I don't know. You either live with it or I buy you a membership at some rub and tug."

"What? Are you crazy? I'm not going into a place like that. That's just plain gross. Nothing is stopping you from doing that kind of thing for me."

"I am telling you right now, if you think I'm going to have time to think about stuff like that, you're going to be spending a lot of time alone. In the bathroom. Getting reacquainted with yourself. Okay? Because the sheer thought of anything sexual makes me sick my stomach."

"Gee…thanks."

"It's nothing against you, babe. But after everything's that gone down…it's just not high on my list of priorities. I'm not saying this to hurt you and you know it."

"You're going to owe me big time when you're healed up and feeling better," he informed her. "You're lucky I love you. Six weeks? I did not sign up for this."

"You're lucky I know you're joking."

"Whose says I'm joking?" he asked, glancing into the back seat as they stopped at a red light and giving her a cheeky grin.

"Because I know you. Better than you know yourself half the time. And I know that that isn't the be all and end all of your existence," she said, and although unable to lean forward far enough to kiss him as badly as she wanted to, she laid her fingertips over her lips and than placed them over his.

He smiled and reached into the back seat to run a hand over her hair and the side of her face before turning his eyes back to the road. "He's okay?" Flack asked.

"What would have happened to him in five minutes? He's fast asleep and his little lips are going a mile a minute while he dreams about food. He is definitely your son. But this IV thing, it scares me."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to accidentally rip it out of his foot."

"It's in there pretty good, Sam and it's taped up nice and tight. I don't think it's going anywhere. That nurse is coming at five so she'll take a look at it and make sure everything's okay."

"She's coming to see if I'm crazy. That's why she's coming. To see if I'm Looney-Tunes."

Flack frowned. "That is not why she's coming. She's coming to check on the baby."

"And to see if I'm Looney-Tunes. Because the stupid nurses told social services I was unstable. And now we have to have child protective services come and visit us. Can you believe that? I'm not crazy, Donnie. I was never crazy. I was just sad because my baby was sick and I wanted to come home."

"You don't have to defend yourself to me, Sammie," he said. "Those last two weeks were sheer hell and that goddamn room was enough to drive anyone nuts. And trust me, I'm none too impressed that CPS are coming to my place."

"What are they going to do? What are they going to look for? We're good people. We're not going to hurt our baby. I just don't get it. Just because I was sad over Kieran being sick and feeling lonely and a bit depressed because I was separated from you doesn't mean I'm a psycho."

"And when's this stupid bitch coming?"

"Tomorrow. That's all they said. What do I do? Put on a house dress and do my hair all up and put make up own and makes beverages and snacks and do my best June Cleaver impersonation?"

"June Cleaver? Nah…personally, to me, Mrs Brady was the bigger hottie."

"You are so disturbed," Sam laughed. "But seriously, babe? How much of a good impression do I have to make? Offer food or drinks? Be all Mary Sunshine?"

"You just be you. And me, well all just be me."

"Oh God," she groaned. "In that case, do you think maybe you could be out of the house during the visit? Because I know you and you can be downright nasty with people."

"I promise you that I will be on my best behaviour. And them showing up like that, just unannounced at whatever time? That's to hopefully catch us at a crappy moment. Like when we haven't slept all night and the kid's crying like a maniac and we're ready to climb the walls. So just be yourself, Sammie. You've got nothing to hide. You love Kieran and you're great with him. You've been fine since we found out we were going home today. So just relax and smile and that's about it."

"And you?"

"Me? I'll just put on the Flack charm. Flash her my baby blues, smile and show off my dimples…"

"Flirt, you mean."

"Little flirting in this circumstance could go along way."

"Or net you a date."

"I wonder if she's cute."

"She's probably old and bitchy. And who says it's a girl? Maybe it's a guy."

"Yeah…I wonder if he's cute."

She leaned forward in her seat to lightly yank at a piece of hair poking out of the bottom of his hat. "You're seriously disturbed! Besides, even if it is a guy, imagine how jealous Danny would be."

"Maybe it should have been Danny we moved in with us. That why when you're shutting me down all the time I'd have someone to go and cuddle up to and relieve my suffering."

Sam gagged. "I can't believe you'd even say that! That's so gross."

"And if you and Carmen ever wanted to cuddle up…well than I'd want pictures."

She snorted and shook her head.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Flack's eyes on the snow covered, slick roads in front of them and Sam's on their son sleeping so peacefully next to her. His lips and nose had stopped twitching and his mouth was now curved into a gentle, angelic smile.

"I love you," she announced, breaking the silence in the car.

No answer came from the front seat.

She frowned. "Donnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you tell the baby you love him."

"I wasn't talking to, Kieran. I was talking to you," she said.

"Well in that case, I love you, too."

"I missed you, you know. At night. Being stuck in there. I really missed you and I…" her voice broke off.

Flack glanced through the rear view mirror and saw the tears that welled in her eyes. "Sammie," he said gently. "It's okay, you know. To be feeling like this. Doesn't mean there's something wrong with you, baby. You've been through a lot. No one is expecting you to be upbeat and happy all the time. You know that right? That it's okay to feel sad once in a while?"

She nodded.

"I don't judge you or think anything less of you because you're like this. I want you to know that. And if you need me, to talk or just someone to hold you or whatever, that's what I'm here for."

She cleared her throat and wiped at stray tears with the sleeve of her coat. "I just want to go home," she said. "Our home."

"That's where we're going, babe," he promised her. "All three of us. Our tiny little family."

She smiled.

It was the first time the word family ever meant something to her.

* * *

Gus had decorated the door of the apartment with white and blue balloons and a silver foil sign that stretched the width of the wood and had IT'S A BOY written across it in baby blue lettering. Below it was the outline of a stork with all of Kieran's information written on it. Date and time of birth, weight and length, parents names and place of birth. Sam couldn't help but offer a laugh when she saw that Gus had written: Living room floor. The memory was as fresh as if it had just happened yesterday. She could still easily recall how the contractions had felt and how frightened she was and how the pain had been worse than she ever expected it to be. And now that man standing beside her, the baby carrier on one arm and the bag that held the portable IV in his other hand, used his foot to knock on the door and than toed off his shoes, had managed to keep her calm and composed and had helped her through it.

It seemed as if it was all he did. Helped her through things. The craziness and suffering that accompanied the pregnancy from day one. And before that the insanity that was Zack. All the times she'd kept things from him that he'd never lost it and instead listened to her explanations and accepted her reasons. Never judged her, always forgave her. Even if she really didn't deserve it. And always loved her no matter what. It was in his eyes when he looked at her. On his face when he smiled at her. In the simplest of touches.

And she couldn't imagine ever not having those looks or smiles or touches in her life.

Gus threw open the door with a flourish and greeted them both with hugs and kissed and congratulations before taking the two small bags from Samantha's hands and holding the door open with her hip and allowing them to pass through the door and into the warm apartment.

"How ya feeling, mommy?" she asked Sam, setting the bags on the ground and giving her sister in law a hug. Even though she and Adam weren't married yet, she still considered Sam family.

"Okay," the tiny brunette replied. "Tired. Hungry."

"Well I've made some food for everybody. Nothing major. Just some salads and some lasagna. I figured the two of you would be starving. And lets face it, when is Flack not hungry?"

"I'm a growing boy," he reasoned, placing the carrier and the IV bag on the floor and slipping out of his jacket and hanging it in the hall closet.

"Nice hats," Gus commented, as Flack took his off and shoved it in the pocket of his coat before turning to Sam and motioning for her to hand him he coat.

"It was Donnie's idea," Sam said, yanking off the knit cap and stuffing it into the pocket of her coat before shrugging out of it and passing it over. "He thought it would be cute if we all matched."

"Ah, he's just a proud daddy and husband," Gus declared. "And wants everyone to notice it. How's he doing?" she asked, nodding down at the baby. Slowly stirring from his nap, making tiny squeaking noises and giving off wide, silent yawns. "What a life, huh?" she giggled. "You eat, you sleep, eat some more. Someone changes your ass and carries you around."

"And that's just Sam," Flack commented dryly as he crouched down to unearth and unbuckle his son.

"Don't be such a meanie," she said and kicked him in the ass.

Gus already had her arms out for the baby before Flack even got all the blankets and bunting bag off of him. The woman who vowed to never had kids, couldn't get enough of her nephew. The way she looked at it, babies were great. As long as they were someone else's and you could give them back after a visit.

Flack stood up slowly and carefully with the baby in his arms and passed him over to Gus' waiting embrace. Than hooked the strap of the IV bag around two of her fingers. "He comes with an extra ten pounds," he said. "Sorry."

"He still has to be hooked up to this stupid thing?" Gus grumbled, as she carried the baby through the kitchen.

"His sugar is still low," Flack told her, as he and Sam followed her and he dropped his keys and cell phone on the microwave. "Shockingly low, almost. So it's better it stays in despite it being a major pain in the ass. Anyone call?"

"Just some nurse confirming the appointment this afternoon," Gus told him. "Other than that, no one. Look what I have guys!" she called to Carmen, Danny and Adam gathered around the dining room table. "A baby! A really, really, really cute baby!"

"Must not be Flack's than," Danny quipped, getting to his feet slowly, still suffering from some after affects of the crash.

"Very funny, Mess," the detective said. "Kid's all me and you all know it."

"Well I feel sorry for him, than," Danny teased, and gave his best friend a one arm embrace. "Good to be home, huh? But you never thought when this day would get here. How's my godson doing?"

"He's getting there," Flack said with a sigh. "Still a couple of issues that need to get under control. The sugar thing and now his hearing. It's one thing after another but somehow, we're staying sane through it all."

"What's wrong with his hearing?" Gus asked, as they all moved into the living room and took up residence on the couch and love seat

"He failed his hearing test," Sam replied, helping herself to a handful of salt and vinegar chips that someone had set out in a bowl on the coffee table. "Well it's not that he failed the whole thing. His left ear is fine. He failed in his right and no one can seem to tell us why. So we have to take him to an audiologist in mid-town next week and to his new pedeatrician in three days. For a check up."

"No rest for the weary," Danny sat, and standing alongside of the love seat she was sitting on, hugged her warmly with his good arm. "How ya feeling, Brooklyn?" he asked, pecking her cheek.

"Tired," she admitted. "He's eating every two to three hours. Can you believe that? I can't keep up. Thank God he can take the breast milk from a bottle too, or I'd be going nuts. I just don't have any expressed and made up. So that is first on my To Do list after his next feeding."

"First thing is first though," Flack said, and left the living room and headed into the kitchen. Returning a minute later with a huge glass of milk he held out to her.

"God I love you," she declared, taking the milk from him and sipping it. "Can you wait on me hand in foot the entire two weeks? Bring me drinks and snacks and rub my feet when they get sore? Make me dinner and do all the house cleaning?"

"Sure," he said and plopped down beside her and laid his arm across her shoulders. "I'll add Super Husband along with Super Cop on the list of credentials on my resume. You know, when I'm out looking for a second job to take care of you two."

"More like a second job to keep you out of the house when she starts driving you nuts," Danny said and took a seat on the arm of the love seat.

"Way to go, Messer," Flack snorted. "Let my wife in on my secret plan."

"Like I couldn't figure that out myself?" Sam snorted. "You are so easy to read and figure out, Donnie."

"Donnie.." Danny snickered. "I just love when she calls you that. Anyone else tries it and you'd be snapping and losing it on them."

"Anyone else is sharing a bed with me and didn't just give birth to my kid," Flack pointed out. "She can call me anything she wants?"

"Oh really?" Sam asked. "Like if I want to call you Donald that's okay too?"

"On occasion," he said.

"Snuggle bunny?" she tried, her hand on the back of his neck, her fingertips drifting along his hair line.

"Never."

"Junior?" she suggested.

"That's a definite sore spot and you know it. You ever call me that, and you'll be sleeping on the couch for a long, long time. Mind you, that will probably kill me more than it would kill you."

She grinned and kissed his cheek.

"You two make me sick," Danny complained. "Just had a baby and still can't keep your hands off of each other? That's not right."

"It's called love, Danny," Sam said. "And if you were experiencing it right about now…"

"Easy, easy Brooklyn."

"I don't see Erica here," Flack commented, picking up his wife's free hand and entwining his fingers with hers and laying both of their hands on his thigh. What's up with that? She didn't want to see her new cousin or what? I'm kinda pissed that she didn't bother coming to see Sam and the baby more than once. And even than she only stayed for what?" he looked at Sam. "Twenty minutes if that?"

Sam nodded and sipped her milk and watched Adam, Gus and Carmen fussing over Kieran and all of his hair and his tiny hands and feet and the denim overalls and little red turtleneck he had on.

"She's been busy with work," Danny said, his excuse sounding lame even to his own ears.

"Everyone else has been too but they make the effort," Flack told him. "And you and Carmen are still reeling from the accident and you guys still came nearly every day. Sometimes twice."

"She's not like us, Flack," Danny said.

Sam snorted. "You can say that again."

"She says she doesn't feel comfortable around all of us when we get together. 'Cause we all talk shop and get things that she doesn't. All the cop crap confuses her she says."

"When do we talk work when people who aren't involved with our work are around us?" Sam asked. "We never do that. Because she shouldn't be hearing that shit to begin with. We talk about normal every day stuff and she always rolls her eyes and bitches and moans about how simple our lives are. That we live in a tiny two bedroom apartment in lower Manhattan and we should move to where she is."

"Give me a break," Flack snorted. "You know how many jobs I'd need to pay the rent in a place like that. I'd be working twenty-four seven and never seeing my family. Seriously though, Mess. Your girl, she's got problems with us blue collar people."

"I know, Flack…I know. You tell me every day nearly. Quit busting my balls already."

"And you still stay," his best friend sighed.

"I have my reasons," Danny informed him.

"Yeah? Like what? The quarter of a million penthouse she got from her prick ex-husband and the times you get to play chauffer with the Bentley?"

"Love," Danny told him. "Love and only love."

"Which is what keeps me in an apartment in lower Manhattan," Sam said. "So next time she starts her shit, tell her I said just that."

Kieran began to fuss in Adam's arms. A look of sheer panic crossed the lab tech's face as he looked up and over at his sister for some help.

"He's not gonna hurt you, Adam," Flack assured him. "He probably needs his ass changed or something to eat."

"Which is why one of you should come and get him," Adam declared.

"Well I don't see you moving," Sam said to her husband. "So I guess you're waiting for me to get off my ass."

"Hey, you already said you didn't express anything and last time I checked, I don't have the equipment necessary to do the job myself."

Sam finished her milk in one gulp and let go of his hand and stood up. "If you'll excuse us, folks," she said as she scooped Kieran up smoothly and effortlessly and grabbed the IV bag. "Me and my little man here have a hot date in the bedroom."

"Need some help?" Danny teased. "Doesn't bother me seeing you with your top up."

"Hey!" Flack snapped. "That's my wife! Watch your mouth!"

Danny held up his hands in self defensive and dropped down into the spot Sam had vacated. Both watching as Sam, talking away to her son in a soft, soothing voice about what a good boy he was and how big he was getting already, carried him down the hall towards the bedroom.

"How's it feel?" Danny asked his best friend. "Finally being home?"

"Like I never want to leave," he replied with a smile.

* * *

Just after two in the morning. The light in the ensuite bathroom was flicked on and the door slightly open so they could see their way around the room if they needed to get up in the middle of the night. Kieran had settled down nicely at ten thirty after a warm sponge bath and after being dried off and put in a fresh diaper and a sleeper and his hair combed with a fine bristled baby brush, he'd had a larger than normal feeding and promptly fell off to sleep in his mother's arms.

Sam and Flack took the opportunity to get some rest as well. So with the baby bundled up and placed in the bassinet at the side of the bed, they climbed into bed clothes bleary eyed and yawning and both passed out as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

Kieran never woke up crying for a meal. He whimpered and fussed but never actually let out a full blown cry. And the minute those tiny sounds emanated from the side of the bed, Flack's eyes snapped open and he propped himself on his elbows and stole a glance at the bedside clock. Groaning when he saw the time. He made a move to nudge Sam awake, to tell her that the baby was up and most likely hungry, but the second he saw her there, fast asleep with her face turned towards him and a soft smile on her face, he didn't have the heart too. She had been pumping faithfully all day and there was a decent stock pile of milk in the freezer and the fridge. So he let her sleep.

"I'm coming, Kieran," he whispered, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and yawned noisily.

With another woman living in the house, he knew it was a bad idea if he just walked around the place in just his boxers, so he climbed out of bed and grabbed a wife beater and a the jeans he had on earlier and pulled them on.

"Daddy's here," he spoke to the baby in a soft voice, trying his best not to wake Sam. "Daddy's here, buddy…"

He lifted his son from the bassinet, almost forgetting about the IV bag in the corner of Kieran's bed and snatching it up before he went any further and yanked the thing out of his kid's foot. Kieran was tiny and could be carried along one arm, making it easier for him to open the bedroom door with the hand carrying the portable IV and to switch on the hall light as he headed for the living room. His first stop was the couch was to change the baby's wet diaper. The second was into the kitchen to toss said diaper in the trash and heat a bottle. Under warm water. Not in the microwave. Sam had warned him about the chances of the milk not heating evenly and there being hot spots that could burn the baby's mouth. And that he did not want.

So instead, after placing Kieran in the infant papa-san chair sitting on the kitchen table and buckling him in for good measure, he filled the measuring cup with tap water and heated it to a boil in the microwave and snagged a four ounce bottle from the fridge and dropped it in to the cup.

He was standing in front of the infant chair, his elbows on the table as he leaned towards his son and talked sports with him, when he heard soft footsteps coming down the hallway towards the kitchen. He thought it was Sam and was just about to give her shit for getting up and demand she go back to bed, when Carmen appeared in the doorway in her robe and jammies, yawning noisily.

"So whose he picking for the Super Bowl?" she asked, leaning against the door frame.

"We weren't wasting our time with football," Flack replied. "We were discussing the finer arts of hockey. Specifically the Rangers."

"You're pathetic," Carmen declared, and journeyed into the kitchen. "Good evening, baby boy," she greeted Kieran and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "How's Auntie's cuddle bug?"

"He slept pretty good," Flack said and went to check on the temperature of the bottle. "Fell asleep at ten thirty, just woke up now. He wasn't like that in the hospital."

"Probably sleeping better because he's at home with mommy and daddy," Carmen reasoned. She smiled at the baby than at his father as he approached the table, bottle and tea towel in hand. "He's damn cute, Donnie," she said.

"Thanks…but just for future reference, you know I love you and I ain't trying to be mean, but only Sam calls me Donnie."

"Just slipped out," Carmen said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No big deal. It's just…" he shrugged and sat the bottle on the table and unbuckled Kieran from the seat. "It's affectionate, you know. Something personal between me and her. I don't care you if you call me Don, but the other one. I'd just rather you didn't do it."

"No problem," she said, as he settled down in the chair across from her with Kieran resting along one arm in a slightly reclined position - they were told by the doctor to sit the baby up for feedings to cut back on the chances of reflux- popped the cap off the bottle and took a quick swig of it to check the temperature.

"Oh please do not tell me you just drank breast milk," Carmen grimaced.

"I was checking to make sure it wasn't too hot. And there's nothing gross about it. It's just milk. Kieran loves it. Drinks it better than that soya formula nonsense Sam was feeding him. You know, you're lucky I put some clothes on before I came out here."

"I wouldn't call what you're wearing clothes," Carmen commented, trying to keep her eyes off of broad chest and strong arms and shoulders.

"Better than just boxers. So? What's up? Why are you up? Can't sleep?"

She nodded.

"Pain from the accident?"

"Pain," she confirmed. "But not from that."

He nodded slowly. "Pains of the heart," he sighed. "Worst damn ones of them all."

"Well you're lucky. You have Sam and the baby so you probably won't have them, God willing, for a long time."

"What's bugging you the most? Being around Sam and the baby or what Speed did?" he asked.

"A little bit of both," she admitted. "I knew being here would be hard. I just didn't expect it would be this hard."

"I warned you, Carmen. I warned you about being around the baby right after what happened. You could have gone anywhere. You could have stayed with Gus and Adam, or with Mac and Stella. You didn't have to come here. Ask me, maybe you like torturing yourself. And maybe, and I'm speaking honestly here, maybe there's a part of you that likes to bring other people down with you."

She didn't respond.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Flack said, his eyes never leaving his son's face. "Speed was a major fucking prick for doing what he did. Wish I could hunt him down and kick the shit out of him and gut the worthless piece of shit. But my main concern can't be you and your issues. I told you this before you moved your stuff in."

She sighed. "I know. But I'm here because I want to be. I want to be with you and Sam and the baby. Help you guys out."

Flack yawned noisily and propped his feet on the chair across from him. "As long as that's the only reason."

She frowned. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"So where you gonna go from here?" Flack asked, ignoring her. "You gonna stay in that apartment? I mean, I don't care how long you stay here and Sam likes you being here. But I don't you want to live with us forever. No offence. And I doubt you want to live with us forever, either."

"I don't like the idea of living there," she said. "Too many memories. But he did pay the rent for a few months and…"

"I mean after that," Flack told her. "You going to stay there."

"Probably not. The wounds are too raw."

"I can understand that. Sam and I ever split, I wouldn't stay here that's for sure."

"Like you and Sam are ever going to split," Carmen laughed.

"Well if it ever happens, it won't be my doing. She'd have to dump my ass and toss me out physically. Even than I wouldn't go down without a fight."

"That would be very un-Flack of you if you did," Carmen told him. "I don't see you ever giving up when it comes to her."

"I never would," he said, and taking the bottle from Kieran's mouth, checked how much he had consumed. After each two ounces the baby needed to be burped to avoid getting too filled up and throwing up with one huge burp at the end. The kid had drank three ounces. "Can you do me a favour, Devine?" he asked, as he laid the tea towel over his shoulder and lifted Kieran to his chest. "Can you warm up another bottle in that hot water there? In the measuring cup? Something tells me he's not going to be satisfied with just four."

"No prob," she said and got up and went to the fridge. "You know, it's really weird," she said, as she took out a bottle and dropped it in the water.

"What's that?" Flack asked, rubbing the baby's back in slow circles.

"Seeing you like this. All fatherly. I didn't expect you to be…I don't know. I guess I didn't expect you to be so damn good at it.":

"Please," he said. "I've got a lot to learn. I'm just doing my best here. Me and the little guy are learning as we go along."

"You're doing really good, Flack. I'm proud of you. And of Sam."

"She did a hell of a job," he said, grinning proudly. The baby burped successfully and he returned Kieran to his previous position for the last of his bottle. "She's going to be a great mother. I can see it. She loves him. Unconditionally. Adores him."

"And you adore her," Carmen pointed out, carrying the bottle over to him.

"She's my life," he said. "My heart. They both are."

She sighed and returned to her seat. "Think we could clone you?" she teased. "Or split you half? Or maybe Sam will share?"

He chuckled. "Only her, Carmen. There's only her. Sorry."

"Well she's damn lucky and she better hold on to you. 'Cause you're definite keeper."

"Think so?"

Carmen nodded.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. And I know Sam's your best friend and you love her. Am I right?"

"A hundred percent."

"Than do me a favour. And you can take this as me being rude and an asshole if you want, but don't flirt with me. Ever again. Maybe you don't even realize you're doing it. I don't know. Maybe you mean it, maybe you don't. But I don't appreciate it. I'm Kieran's father and I'm Sam's husband. And to you I'm Flack and your friend but that's it. Okay?"

She nodded.

"I hope you find someone, Carmen. I really do. I hope one day you find someone that you can love just as much or maybe even more than Speed. Lots of guys out there would be willing, ready and able to hook up with you in a heart beat. But I'm not one of them. I just thought I'd clear that up. In case you ever decided to try another move on me like you did that night in her when you were shit faced drunk."

"I'd never do that to Sam," she vowed. "Ever."

"Good," Flack said and stood up, slipping the fresh bottle into one of his pockets and scooping up the IV bag. "Let's keep it that way, okay? I'm going to take him to the bedroom to cuddle up with mommy."

"Flack, I never…"

"Good night," he said. "Turn everything off when you head back to bed, alright?"

"Sure," she answered meekly and watched him go.

He had been honest. To a fault.

And nothing more needed to be said.

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers for just reading! But PLEASE toss some love my way folks! Thanks!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Brttmclv**

**hope4sall**

**laplandgurl**

**Aphina**

**Laurzz**

**Wolfeylady**

**Forest Angel**

**muchmadness**

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**Shadowrose666**

**Madison Bellows**

**Greg Rox**

**Bluehaven4220**

**Soccer-bitch**


	106. Mommy's Boy

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN...YOU KNOW THE REST**

**A/N: HOWDY! I AM BACK!**

**SPECIAL WELCOME TO NIENNA TINEHTELE**

* * *

**Mommy's boy**

"Out on the ocean sailing away  
I can hardly wait  
To see you come of age  
But I guess well both just have to be patient  
cause its a long way to go  
A hard row to hoe  
Yes its a long way to go  
But in the meantime

Before you cross the street  
Take my hand  
Life is what happens to you  
While youre busy making other plans."  
-Beautiful Boy, John Lennon

* * *

The first night at home had gone relatively well.

Kieran had fallen back asleep shortly after his two am bottle. Flack had re-wrapped him loosely in his receiving blanket and gently laid him on his side in his bassinet, a small rolled up towel on either side of him, preventing him from accidentally rolling over onto his stomach. The doctor had recommended the side sleeping to keep the reflux in check, and so far he'd had no incidences of spitting up in his sleep.

Once the baby was tucked back in securely, Flack returned to bed himself. Flopping down onto his stomach and out like a light before his face even hit the pillow. He'd never felt so emotionally and physically exhausted before in his entire life, and was worried if he felt like that after just the first day home, how the hell would he ever survive the coming days and months and even years?

The baby never stirred again until quarter after seven. By the grace of God, the infant had given his parents nearly five hours of uninterrupted sleep. Flack had heard his son's soft whimpering from the bassinet and was still contemplating whether he should do two feeds in a row or not, when he'd felt the mattress shift underneath him and felt his wife's hair brushing against his arm as she moved from her position tucked under that arm with her face in his neck. He had cracked an eye open and in the dim light coming through the bedroom window, watched as she climbed out of bed, checked the time on the clock radio and than shoved her feet into her slippers. Her heard her shuffling steps and the rustle of her clothes as she went to the end of the bed and went around to his side. Heard the gentle, melodic way she spoke to their son as she scooped him up and showered him with kisses before carrying him out of the room.

It was quarter to eight, when Flack, who somehow had found himself unable to sleep out of the pure excitement of his son finally being home and the fear that he was going to miss something if he didn't join his family, climbed out of bed and back into his jeans and a t-shirt and journeyed out into the living room. He found mother and son on the couch, Sam with her feet up on the coffee table,a burping towel over her shoulder and Kieran resting on his back on her thighs, his blue eyes wide open and focused on her face as she peered down at him and recited Itsy Bitsy Spider while drawing circles on his cheeks and forehead with a gentle fingertip.

"What'cha guys up to?" Flack asked, as he bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of his wife's head before sitting down on the couch beside her.

"He really likes this, Donnie," she said excitedly, stroking the bridge of the baby's nose. "I think it puts him in a daze. Watch...._Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain and Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the spout again_."

Flack smiled. At the love and tenderness and affection that his wife exhibited for their son in every word and every glitter of her eyes and in the way she touched him so softly. And the way Kieran stared up at her, transfixed by her voice. In complete and utter awe of this beautiful, amazing woman that had gone through hell to bring him safely and successfully into the world.

He reached out and laid a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her cheek softly. "You sleep okay, babe?" he asked, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

She nodded. "I heard you get up in the middle of the night," she said. "Thank you for letting me sleep."

"I have to admit, I was really tempted to wake you up," he told her. "But then I figured I'm just as much responsible for him being here as you are so I might as well do my share of work while I'm off."

"You are so generous," she giggled. "But thank you. You didn't have to get up with him. And you didn't have to come out here with us. You could have stayed in bed."

"I didn't want to stay in bed. And it's not that I felt I had to get up with him or come out here. It's because I wanted to."

She smiled. "Did you hear that Kieran?" she asked the tiny baby, picking up his feet and kissing them through his sleeper. "Daddy gave up sleep to spend time with us. You are witnessing a modern day miracle. Because that rarely happens."

"Don't teach him bad things about me already," Flack complained. "He's only two weeks old. Don't tarnish his image of me."

"His image of you?" she laughed. "Right now, he just sees some tall, goofy looking guy and maybe recognizes your voice from all that crap you were talking to him about the Rangers while he was still inside of me."

"Tall goofy looking guy?" Flack smirked.

"Sorry, honey. He can't really distinguish faces. Voices, yes. Faces, no. Would you look at his IV sight? It freaks me out to look at it."

"Why? What's it going to do to you?"

"I just don't like looking at it. It's gross. And it looks painful. Will you check it and make sure it's not red or anything?"

Flack leaned forward and carefully unbuttoned the leg on Kieran's sleeper and extracted his tiny foot. The IV was held it place by layers upon layers of clear tape. Second skin the stuff was called. He checked the best he could around the needle itself and than the top of his foot and the heel, looking for any signs of a possible infection.

"Good boy, Kieran," Sam stroked his hair and ran her finger over his eyebrows. "You're being such a good boy...daddy's not going to hurt you...are you daddy? Please be careful. Don't hurt him."

"I'm not going to hurt him, babe. I'm being as gentle as I.."

Kieran let out a shrill screech and than began to cry.

"Donnie!" Sam scolded him. "What did you do?"

"I accidentally may have pulled the IV out."

"What?" she cried. "How did you..."

"Calm down and hold him still and let me look, okay?"

"But he's crying and he barely cries. What should we do? We need to stop him from crying. How do we stop him from crying?"

"You need to stop freaking out. He can sense that you're upset and that will only freak him out more. Just hold him still and let me look at it. Quit shaking your legs and bouncing him around."

"What do we do if you did pull it out?" she asked. "Do we call the doctor? Take him to emergency?"

"Samantha, chill. We are not taking him anywhere. You're going to calm down and hold him still and I'm going to peel the tape off his foot and..."

"No!" she cried. "Don't! Leave it on!"

"I have to check if I pulled it out. Okay? He's fine, you're fine. Relax."

"I still think we should take him to the ER," she said.

"Samantha..." he said, warning in his tone. He carefully peeled the layers of tape off the tiny, wrinkled foot. The IV itself was inserted into the side of the foot, and was almost completely out. Blood was beginning to trickle out onto Kieran's soft, pale skin.

"Donnie!" Sam shrieked. "He's bleeding! He's bleeding! Do something!"

He slowly pulled the IV out completely, than snatched the burping towel off of his wife's shoulder and held it against his son's foot to stem the blood seeping out of the hole in his son's foot.

"What do we do now?" Sam asked, near tears.

"You give him to me and you go and get a Band-Aid and we put it on his foot," he told her, holding out his arms. "Than we leave a message for that home care nurse and we tell her what happened and ask her to bring the stuff to put the IV back in. Okay?"

She made move to get off the couch.

"Sammie," he said, firmly but gently. "Can you get Kieran a band-aid?"

She nodded and jumped up and hurried off.

"Daddy's sorry, K," Flack said to his bawling son. "He didn't mean to do that. It just sort of happened. Here," leaning forward, he snagged the seldom used soother sitting on the coffee table and popped it into the baby's mouth. "Every thing's going to be okay," he rocked the infant slowly in his arms. "Daddy didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yes you did," Sam grumbled as she returned, tearing open the packaging around the band-aid and pulling it out.

"Don't teach him things like that," Flack scolded her. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt him and you know that. You need to get a grip, Sammie. Look, he's not even crying anymore. He's doing that whiny, whimpering thing he inherited from you."

"You're so lucky I love you as much as I do," she declared, and softly and carefully applied the bandage to Kieran's foot. "Think it will be okay?" she asked. "He won't bleed to death will he?"

Flack looked at her as if she was crazy.

"Well he's so tiny," she reasoned. "That could be life threatening blood loss for someone that tiny."

"He's fine, Sammie. It will stop bleeding soon and the nurse can check it and his blood sugar levels when she gets here and maybe he won't need the IV put back in."

"That would be nice," she sighed and dropped down onto the couch. Yawning noisily, she leaned over and snagged the remote control off of the coffee table and flicked on the television. Channeling surfing until she found an old episode of Third Watch. "Just so you know, honey," she said to her husband as she tucked her legs underneath her and laid her head on his shoulder. "This is going to be my life for all of my maternity leave. I plan on staying in my jammies all day and watching television."

"If you think you have time to watch tv all day, than all the power to ya," Flack told her. "As long as you fit Kieran in there somewhere in between."

"Don't be smart," she said. "So maybe not the television part, but definitely the jammies part. It's just a word of warning. So you don't come home from work and get nasty about me being in my sleepwear all day."

"Think I care if you ever get dressed? As long as the kid is taken care of and the house is clean and there's food on the table, it's all good. Do whatever you want."

"A clean house and home cooked meals?" she snorted. "What do you think I am? Your wife or something?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of maid," he teased her.

"Your daddy is just so funny," Sam said to Kieran as she tucked his foot into his sleeper and buttoned it up. "He should be a stand up comedian somewhere, don't you think?"

"Look at the way he looks at you," Flack commented. "Whenever you talk. It's like he's in complete and utter awe of you."

"Of course he is," she said. "I'm mommy. And we all know that mommies are the center of the universe and can do no wrong."

"Yeah? Well if you ask me he looks at you that way because he knows where his food comes from and knows you're his meal ticket."

"Did you have to go and ruin my romantic day dreams about mommy hood?" she huffed. "Can't you just let me think that our son is looking at me with the utmost love and respect and adoration? That he thinks I'm just the most fantastic person on the face of this earth?"

"You know, that's probably actually what he's thinking and how he's looking at you," Flack said. "Seeing as that's exactly how I think and how I look at you. He gets it from me."

She smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. "That was so incredibly corny yet so incredibly awesome at the same time," she declared.

"Well it's all true," he said and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You know I love you. Even if I don't say it or show it as often as I probably should."

"You seriously underestimate yourself," Sam told him. "I never doubt for a minute that you love me. You always find some way to show me. You don't have to say it. It's in the little things you do. You probably don't even realize you're doing them. Like the way you stroke my hair or touch my face or put your hand on the small of my back. The way you smile at me and look at me. Even the way you bitch at me all the time. I see it all the time, Donnie. Trust me. I hope you see it. The way that I love you. You see it and feel it right?"

"All the time," he assured her. "And the best way you could have shown me is right here," he nodded down at the baby. "You giving me him? That's gotta be the best show of love and affection ever."

She smiled. "He's something else, isn't he?" she asked, pride in her voice and in her eyes as she pressed her lips to her son's head.

Flack nodded.

"It's weird how we waited so long and worried so much and had to fight every step of the way to get him here and now that he is here, all that bad stuff is forgotten. It's like he's been here forever and none of that other stuff happened. All I know is that I wouldn't give him up for anything in the world. Or you. Although I have to admit, you do drive me insane sometimes."

"That feeling is mutual, trust me," he laughed, and moved Kieran to his right arm so he could wrap his left around his wife's shoulders.

"I know we drive each other mental," she said. "And there's time we want to kill each other. But we always love one another. Do you think it will always be that way?"

"I know it will," he told her. "Don't ever doubt it. When we're in our nineties, living at some nursing home and we've been married sixty years and we're still fighting like crazy and wanting to kill one another, we're still going to be madly and crazily in love with each other. Nothing will ever change that."

"I like it when this cheery, optimistic side rears its ugly head with you," she laughed. "You're rather attractive when you're nice and sappy."

"As opposed to being hideous ugly all the other times?" he asked jokingly.

"Never. I love it when you're all snarky and sarcastic and bossy and aggressive. That's just so phenomenally sexy. I think that's the side of you that turns me on the most."

"Well consider yourself lucky than. Because that's the way I am ninety-five percent of the time. You just caught me at a sappy moment. It probably won't happen again for a long, long time. I don't do sappy and romantic. You've caught me at a rare moment."

"You're just all glowing and disgustingly happy because you're a new daddy," she said. "I don't think that smile has left your face since he came home yesterday afternoon. Actually, except for him being sick, I don't think it's left since he was born."

"I am very happy," Flack agreed, nodding slowly. "With my son and my wife. With my whole life, actually."

"Your whole life has drastically changed in less than a year," she observed.

"Yeah...but I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. There's a couple things that I'd get rid of and re-do if I could, but for the most part, there's not much I'd change. Your life has changed a lot to. Did you ever think when you left Zack and came back here that ten months later you'd be sitting on the couch with a husband and a baby?"

"Not in a million years," she responded. "I never thought I'd meet someone and fall in love as fast as I did. But I'm glad it happened. Because you gave me a second chance at a lot of things. You looked past all my issues and my baggage and accepted me the way I am. And I know that wasn't easy for you."

"You've been a challenge," he sighed. "You still are. But the more of a challenge you are, the more I fall in love you."

"You are so a glutton for punishment," she laughed. "You just love to torture yourself. But thank you. For not being scared away and for giving me a chance to be a good person. I like to think I've matured a lot since we've been together."

"I think we both have," he told her. "It wasn't a case of just you needing to change. I had to, too. But we managed. We got through things without killing each other. We got married and had our baby. And now we're a family."

She nodded. "I quite like my little family," she said.

"Me too," he said and kissed the top of her head. "You're a pretty good wife. I have to give you credit. You're not doing a half bad job. You're cooking skills could use a bit of work, but other than that..."

"Tell you what," she said and sat up. "If you buy me recipe books or cooking lessons, I promise to be that cute little housewife that you want so badly. But you have to promise me that in exchange for me being that cute little housewife, that you'll be less of a nag and critique me less when I do something wrong. Because I'm not perfect and that hurts my feelings when you do that."

"It's a deal," he kissed her softly. "And I'm sorry. I didn't realize it hurt you're feelings when I did stuff like that. I guess because I grew up seeing that with my dad, it's hard for me to know the right way to do things and the right things to say."

"You're not doing half bad," she said, and pressed her lips to his forehead. "You're a good man, Donnie. You know that, right?"

"I try," he responded, "I'm far from perfect. I know that."

"Well I don't want you perfect anyway," she said. "We don't want daddy perfect, do we Kieran," she said to their son as he lap contently along his father's arm. "He'd be too boring if he was perfect and we love him just the way he is. Well, most of the time. He does need to shave so he's not scratching our faces and giving us ouchies."

"Ouchies?" Flack laughed. "What kind of word is that?"

"It's a word people use when they have kids," she reasoned. "And you do need to shave," she added, trailing a finger along his cheek.

"I will shave once I manage to get my lazy ass into the shower," he assured her.

"Thank you," she said. "I hate how my face gets all chaffed when you haven't shaved in awhile. Although, you do look rather sexy and dangerous like that."

"Yeah? I wish I could say the same about your unshaven legs," he teased.

"Don, I haven't been able to bend over and touch my legs in nearly four months. Cut me some slack. I plan on getting all of that stuff done as soon as I feel up to it. Those stitches are still bugging the hell out of me."

"Want me to check them for you?" he asked, his eyes sparkling playfully. "Considering I haven't seen your goods of been anywhere near them for a long, long, long time."

"Two months, six days and about fourteen hours," she said. "But whose counting?"

"And it's going to be how much longer? Couple more weeks?"

"Four at the most," she said.

He sighed and shook his head.

"I'll get the Play Boy channel put on the television," she told him. "Would that make you feel better? No one is stopping you from doing your own thing you know."

"And no one or anything is stopping you from doing it for me," he retorted.

"Maybe I just don't want to touch it anymore because it's caused me sheer hell for the past nine months," she laughed. "Poor baby," she ran her fingers through his hair. "It's killing me just as much as it's killing you. Trust me. We'll suffer together."

"I'm telling you, that first time we do manage to make love again, we won't be leaving the bedroom for two days. So you better have someone to watch Kieran."

"You and your lofty promises," she said. "Look at him. I thought he'd be back asleep by now."

"He's having too much fun listening to us go back and forth with each other," Flack reasoned. "He's beautiful, Sammie," he said, smiling down at his baby. "We did a pretty good job."

"We did," she agreed. "I can't get over how much he looks like you."

"My looks, your brains."

"Hopefully," she said. "I mean, he has to get something from me, right?"

"He's got your freckles," Flack pointed out. "And the little ears that stick out."

"Maybe...but he's still all you," she sighed dramatically. "I do all the work and that's what I get in return? Nice."

They sat in silence, Sam's head on her husband's shoulder, his hand resting on her hip as they looked down, in complete and utter awe and love, at their infant son.

"Hard to believe we're mommy and daddy now," Sam commented, running a gentle hand over the baby's thick, black hair.

"A little," Flack agreed. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"Nothing has ever felt so perfect," he said.

She smiled and accepted a small kiss and laid her head on his shoulder once more. Content for the time being to bask in the warm, loving glow of her perfect little family.

* * *

The home care nurse had arrived shortly before noon hour and checked on both mother and son. Sam's stitches were taking longer than expected to heal and she was still in a considerable amount of discomfort and pain, and the episiotomy area showed a slight sign of affection. A call was made to the doctor and a prescription filled for both pain killers and an anti-inflammatory that were safe to take while breast feeding.

Kieran, on the other hand, was in far better shape. A simple prick to the finger to have his blood sugar level tested, showed that he was exactly where he should be and the IV no longer had to be used. His lungs sounded clear and showed no signs of infection, and his reflux, although still present with every feeding, wasn't as bad as it had been in the hospital. He was declared healthy, and apparently happy, and a follow up appointment had been made with the pediatrician for the following week.

"Why is Carmen hiding out in her room?" Sam asked, after the nurse had left and she'd managed to grab a shower and she and Flack, with Kieran in his papa-san chair in the middle of the kitchen table, went over medical bills and contemplated what to make for lunch.

"Maybe she's tired," Flack replied, as his eyes skimmed through one of the bills sent over by the hospital.

Thank God for company benefits. They still owed a significant amount for things that weren't covered by the department, but it wasn't staggering and certainly nothing to get too worked up about. But without benefits...he was scared to think how much in the hole they would be.

"It's nearly one in the afternoon," Sam said, sipping a glass of milk.

"Maybe she's not feeling well," he shrugged. "Who cares? She's a big girl. She can take care of herself. She doesn't need us making her meals and looking after her."

"I think it bothers her being around Kieran," Sam commented.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because she lost her baby. I can't imagine how I would have felt if something had have happened while I was pregnant and lost Kieran. That would have killed me. She lost her baby and than she comes and lives here with two people that just had a baby. That has to be hard."

"No one ever said she had to come here," Flack pointed out.

Sam frowned. "That sounded kind of harsh, Donnie."

"I'm just saying that she had other places to go. I know she's your best friend and she says she wants to help out with K. I get that. But she did lose a baby and we just had a baby and I hate how she makes me feel like I should be in mourning for her instead of being ecstatic because I just became a father. Like I'm doing something wrong for being happy about having a baby."

"I don't think she means to make you feel that way," Sam said. "But I kind of see where you're coming from. I feel like I'm doing something wrong for loving my baby and enjoying him and smiling a lot. I'm sure she'll come around sooner or later. It just must be really hard to deal with."

"You are far more understanding and sympathetic than I am," Flack sighed.

"Yeah..but you're a guy, Donnie. You're not suppose to understand stuff like that. Although you do have a tendency to be a little harsh about things."

"It's not being harsh, Sammie. It's being honest. I don't see why she'd come here after what happened. That has to be painful and she's still grieving or whatever for her baby. So why come to a place with a new baby in it? That's all I'm saying. Why torture yourself like that?"

She shrugged. "I know I wouldn't do it. But we all cope in different ways. No way is better than the other. It's all what gets us through."

He smirked. "Thank you, Doctor Phil."

"Mock me all you want," she said, finishing her milk and standing up. "Maybe one day I will go back to school and get a PhD and become a doctor. A therapist of some kind."

"Whatever you want, Sammie. If you want to go back to school somewhere down the road and do something else with your life, that's fine. As long as it's what you want."

"I am so glad you said that," she told him, as she opened the fridge and peered inside.

"Why is that?" Flack asked, gathering up all the bills and setting them in a neat pile on the table. "We owe about seven grand by the way."

"Even with our benefits?"

He nodded. "That's what we owe after things have been covered. You are one expensive wife. We can have that paid off in two payments. If we just use some of that money in the savings from dick head."

"That's what it's there for," she reasoned. "To help pay things off."

"Either that or I can get a second job," he said, sipping a cup of coffee. "I'm sure I am more than qualified to be a rent-a-cop at one of the department stores or at the Statue of Liberty. Or a jail guard. I know for a fact I could get hired by the department of corrections and pass their tests. Or maybe I should be a parole officer. Now that could be good for some shits and giggles. Can you imagine, babe? If I was a PO for guys I locked up to begin with? I should do that. Become a PO on the side. Which do you think better suits me? A parole officer or a jail guard?"

"How about..." she considered it. "None."

"What? You don't think I'd be a decent jail guard? I'd love to put the beats down on some of them cons."

"I'm sure you would. Just like the guys you've arrested and put in there would recognize you and love to put the beats down on you. And I quite like having you around, Donnie. So it's a no. I don't like that idea at all."

"Parole officer than, you like that one better?"

"I like you just the way you are. As a homicide detective."

"No second job, than?"

"You'd never be home with me and Kieran if you got a second job," she said, rummaging through the fridge. "Unless that's what you're aiming for."

"Never," he told her, fixing Kieran's blanket tucked securely around his peacefully, sleeping body. "I just think paying the bills is important."

"Than we use Zack's money," she said. "You do not need a second job. That's just stupid."

"Than you better play the lottery, than," he declared. "Because you are one expensive wife and he's one expensive kid."

"Only going to get worse, Donnie. When he gets older and wants the designer clothes and the expensive shoes and the video game systems and a fancy computer. Or when he wants to play hockey or other sports. Or he gets a girlfriend but doesn't have a job and needs us to fit the bill for his dates."

"Old enough to have a girlfriend, old enough to have a job," Flack reasoned and finished off his coffee and got up from the table. "That was my parents philosophy."

"And you were how old when you started dating?" she asked.

"Fifteen. By that time I''d been a paper boy since I was eight and I had spent two summers working as a caddy down at Kissena Park golf course in Queens and I'd just gotten a job at McDonalds."

"I can not picture you as a pimply faced, gangly and awkward fifteen year old flipping burgers," she laughed.

"Who said I was gangly and awkward and pimply faced?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her cheek. "I was devastatingly handsome even than. If me and you had have ever met, I guarantee you two things. One, you would have fallen madly in love with me, and two, you never would have left New York City because I never would have let you."

She smiled. "I was almost nineteen than, Donnie. I wouldn't have been into a fifteen year old."

"Sure you would have. Look at me. Look at what I have to offer. Especially below the belt."

"You are such a perv," she laughed and hugged his arms to her. "Is this the same girlfriend at fifteen that you lost your virginity to? In the back of your father's caddy?"

"That was Bianca D'Fazio. And it's the same girlfriend but that was prom night. I'd already lost it to her the year before. Than she was dating this buddy of mine. Me and her just hooked up. Strictly to do the nasty."

"I do not want the details of your teenage years sex-capades," she declared. "But it must have been good sex if you guys ended up boyfriend and girlfriend in the end."

"Back than it was good sex. But I didn't know good from bad at that age. Now you..." he kissed and nuzzled her neck. "You have far surpassed anyone I have ever been with."

"Best sex you ever had?"

"Hands down," he assured her. "But like I was saying, my folks said as soon as I was old enough to date, I was old enough to work and pay the bills for our dates and what not. So that's what I did. And Kieran can do the same thing when he gets a girlfriend."

"Just so you know now, Donnie. The birds and the bees talk? That's up to you. As is enforcing the use of condoms on him. I do not want him knocking someone up at fifteen."

"I agree. I'll take care of all that. But first, maybe we should think about getting him to his first birthday before we have him off having sex. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," she agreed. "And you know what else sounds good?"

"What's that babe?"

"You making me some lunch," she said, patting him on the arm and slipping out of his embrace.

He sighed. "I just walked right into that one, didn't I."

"Yes," she laughed as she left the one. "You did."

* * *

It was quarter to four when the social worker finally showed up. Flack answered the door and immediately felt a scowl cross his face at the sight of the familiar face. Nancy Chambers, or the Ice Queen, as he and many of the other detectives who'd had the unfortunate of crossing paths with her during cases called her, was undoubtedly one of the most evil women in the city. She was a short, heavy set woman with chin length brassy blond hair who wore way too much makeup for her age. For any woman of any age for that matter. And she had a high pitched voice that absolutely drove Flack nuts. He'd had a couple of runs in with her when he questioned the way she was treating kids taking in as wards of the state. He felt she needed to have more compassion and treat these children, who'd already been victims of crime. Well she had taken serious offense to his criticisms and lost it on him. He now wondered, as he stood staring down at her, if she'd purposely took them on when she saw the name Flack come up in the computer.

"Detective Flack," she greeted, a condescending look on her face. "Long time no see. I see you've gotten into the business of baby making on top of your police work."

"Guess you could say I got lucky," he retorted.

A smile tucked at her upper lip. But she held it back. "I was quite surprised when I saw your name come up. Not just because you had a child, but because last time we spoke, you seemed to have all the answers to child rearing. Yet here I am. Checking up on you."

"Well why don't I save you the hassle of taking off your boots and your coat than. Everything is fine here. My son is fine, I'm fine, my wife is fine. We're all fine. In fact, we are so fine it would be against the law to be any more fine. So there's really no need for us to waste your time, is there."

"You know how these things work," she said, toeing off her black leather boots and setting them alongside the door. "I need to talk to you and your wife and observe her with the child. You are not the issue. Your wife however..."

"My wife is doing great. She's happy and she's relaxed and she's doing awesome with the baby. There is nothing wrong with her mood whatsoever."

"And you expect me to just take your word for it? Someone who makes a living out of fooling people to get the answers he wants? Excuse me if I'm not that gullible. Now are you going to invite me in or shall I get you to bring your wife and child out here in the hallway?"

He sighed, relegating himself to the fact that there was no way around having that bitch in his house and around his family. He opened the door further and motioned for her to come inside.

"Why thank you," she said as she stepped into the apartment. "Isn't it nice to be a gentleman once in a while?"

"I'm a gentleman all the time," he responded. "Just only to the people that warrant it. My wife's in the living room with the baby."

He led the way from the small foyer and through the kitchen and out into the spacious living room. Where Sam was sitting cross legged in the middle of the living room floor, with Kieran on his back on a polar fleece Winnie the Pooh blanket, as she spoke to him in a soft, soothing face while massaging lavender scented baby massage oil into his legs and on the bottom of his feet. Telling him how badly he scared mommy and daddy and how they were so frightened of losing him. And to never, ever do something like that again, because mommy and daddy would be too sad.

"Does she look depressed to you?" Flack asked the social worker. "Does that woman seem despondent? She's fine. She's been amazing with him since we got home. She laughs and sings to him and tells him stories and plays with him and does everything for him. Feeds him and changes him and baths him. She's so gentle with him. Look at her. Look at her and tell me that there's something wrong with her."

"I can only go by what the hospital told me, Detective Flack. And they told me that she was depressed and down and that her moods were unstable."

"Our son was sick. Our brand new baby who we'd fought damn hard to even get into this world, could have very easily died. He was in the NICU hooked up to tubes and needed oxygen to breath properly. Everything was fine with him and than boom, he got sick and we could have very easily lost him. And than they shove her in that goddamn bunk room and wonder why she's depressed? That's a lot of shit for one woman to deal with. She's in the room, all by herself, while her baby is in the NICU and I'm at home because it's against hospital policy for me to be in that jail cell with her, and you wonder why she was down? Give me a goddamn break."

"Our main concern at CPS is the child," she told him. "And we were told that you're wife..."

"I am in the room," Sam spoke up. "I can hear you. And I do have a name."

"Mrs Flack," the social worker greeted as she approached her, a hand outstretched. "I'm Nancy Chambers from..."

"I know where you're from," Samantha said. "And I can't believe the hospital wasted your time by calling you and sending you here."

"They were concerned about your moods," the other woman reasoned. "You were showing signs of post-partum depression."

"I was upset that my baby was sick," Sam argued. "He's my first baby and I went through hell to bring him into this world. We almost lost him a couple of times during my pregnancy and I worked hard to get him into this world safely. And he got sick and we were afraid of losing him. Of course I was upset. And than I was shoved into that little room and kept away from the other real support I have," she gestured to Flack. "And than people wonder why I'm sad? How would you feel?"

"I understand you're frustrated," Nancy said.

"I'm not frustrated. I'm not even angry. I'm irritated that you come to our house when there's so many kids out there that need help. Kids that are in desperate need. You say that my husband makes a living fooling people to get what he wants, well in my experience, you people do nothing more than harass families like us, while the kids that are being abused and being mistreated and neglected are ignored and slip through the cracks. You send children to foster homes that are just as bad, if not worse, than where they were before. Or you send kids back home and declare every thing fine and than wonder a couple months later what went wrong and why that same kid ended up in a body bag."

The social worker blinked.

"Don and I love our son," Sam continued. "We love him and we were afraid we were going to lose him. And you people have the nerve to come here because I was sad that my baby was so sick. You're wasting your time here. We are good people and we are good to our son. You should be out helping the poor, defenseless kids that need it the most. Because you know what will happen to those kids? Months down the road when I get back to work, I'm going to be the one taking photographs and processing the crime scene and listening to the medical examiner giving me cause of death. All because those kids didn't get what they needed. Because no one could be bothered to care enough about them to give them the help they should have gotten. Because CPS were wasting their times with families like ours."

Nothing more needed to be said. On Sam's part at least. The social worker stayed for half an hour, sitting on the couch as she observed the parents together and with their infant son. She asked them if they had any concerns regarding parenthood or any fears about what they were doing. And than she shook their hands and praised Kieran about what good boy he was and gushed about how beautiful she was and Flack showed her to the door.

* * *

Sam was tidying the living room when he returned. Kieran slept soundly in his portable playpen while his mother busied herself with neatly arranging toys and diapers. Flack stood at the back of the couch, leaning over it, watching her with a smile on his face.

"What?" she asked. "You're making me nervous."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he responded.

"Yeah...but I like hearing it."

"You were incredible, Sammie. Watching you with Kieran and hearing what you said to that woman? It was nothing short of amazing."

"I wouldn't go that far..."

"I would. And seeing what I did and hearing what I did? I do not want to ever hear you tell me again that you're not strong and that you're not capable of handling yourself. Because you are. You totally underestimate yourself and I don't want to hear that ever again. Got it?"

She nodded.

"I can honestly say, at this moment, after all that, that I have never been so proud of you. Or so honored to be your husband."

She fought back tears at those words. "Don't make me cry, Donald," she scolded.

"You know what would make this awesome husband and wife moment even better?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"If you got your ass in there,"he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. "And made me some dinner."

She laughed. "There's canned stuff. And a can opener. Use it."

"Way to ruin the moment, Sammie," he laughed as he headed for the kitchen.

"Donnie?" she called to him.

He stuck his head into the room.

"I'll make you a deal," she said.

"I'm listening."

"I will make you dinner if you promise to love me forever and ever."

He smiled. "That's a done deal," he said.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! And thanks for all of your support and all the great messages I have received! And thanks even to the lurkers! But please, please drop me a line, folks!**

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**Nienna Tinehtele**


	107. Painting the town blue Part One

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN ****SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! THE MOB MUSE HAS MADE ITS RETURN! HOPE ALL MY FANS DO, TOO.**

**WARNING: SLIGHT M RATING FOLKS. VERY SLIGHT. SO MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO ENJOY THE SAMFLACKIE ACTION.**

* * *

**Painting the town blue: Part One**

"What's a photograph  
If you're not in the other half  
Why even dream  
If I'm not dreaming of you  
You make me a better man  
Promise I'll do all I can  
Your love keeps me bringing me  
Closer to the truth  
Nothing replaces your touch  
Never stop believing in us  
They try to break us  
But we stand strong in love  
They'll be no distance too far  
I gotta be where you are  
(right where you are)  
I don't wanna face this world alone  
Without you by my side  
You're the only one  
That makes it feel like home  
And I need you in my life  
When you're not around I'm feeling  
Like a piece of me is missing  
When it feels like the day is closing in  
Somehow I find the faith  
To make it through  
When I'm with you."  
-When I'm with You, Westlife

* * *

"Now listen carefully, Kieran," Adam said, in a gentle, calm voice. "This is Uncle Adam's favourite part of the movie. This is where the Princess Leia and the gang end up on the planet Endor. And meet the Ewoks. The Ewoks are these furry, cute little creatures. But never assume that cute means harmless. Because they can kick ass with the biggest and baddest of 'em."

"Adam!" Sam bellowed from the bedroom down the hall, as she dressed and listened to the conversation going on in the living room. "Language!"

"I'm sure he's heard a lot worse living in this house and having Flack as his father and a trucker mouth as a mother!" her younger brother yelled back. "Isn't that right, K? I bet you hear a lot worse words. Like shit and asshole and…"

"Adam Gregory Ross!" she exclaimed. "Enough!"

"Take it easy, Sammie! He's two months old. He doesn't know a thing I am saying. All he cares about is things like when he gets his next meal and whether or not his diaper is clean. And maybe if he's going to get some chill out time under the baby gym or in his swing."

"Just.." she sighed exasperatedly. "Just watch your mouth, okay?"

"Fine, fine.." he mumbled. "Your mom is becoming a real stick in the mud, Kieran. An old fuddy-duddy. She's thirty-three going on seventy-three some days. I feel for you. Having to grow up with someone as strict and anal as her."

Sam snorted and rolled her eyes and slipped the crystal embedded headband into her hair. Her shoulder length tresses had spent the entire day in hot rollers and she now boasted a head full of small, tight curls. She picked up the crystal and cubic zirconia Art Deco drop earrings that lay on the dresser and poked them through the holes in her lobes, securing them tightly with their butterfly backs. Next she put on the matching earrings and bracelet. She still wore her terry cloth robe over her strapless bra and lace panties, garter belt and nude stockings as she moved back into the ensuite bathroom to finish the last of her makeup for the evening.

It had been a long time since she'd dressed up for an event. The Orphans of Nine Eleven Charity Ball the September that had just passed, to be exact. When she was just over three months pregnant and not yet a wife. It felt as if forever had passed since then. Back when things were more simple. When she still carried her first born inside of her where he was warm and safe. When she wore just an engagement ring on her left hand and was just beginning to get excited and anxious over making wedding arrangements.

Things had changed drastically since then. Both for the good and for the bad. The good was that she had married the man of her dreams. Her forever love. And she had managed to bring a healthy, beautiful and amazing little boy into the world. Her marriage was strong and flourishing and her son was growing bigger and smarter with each passing day. He was beginning to make cooing and babbling noises and could almost lift his head up and hold it up unsupported, and he'd far surpassed his one month milestones despite his prematurely. He fed well and slept even better. His smiles were genuine now and he reacted to familiar voices. Especially those of his parents. He could bring his hands, although still kept in tight fists, up to his nose and mouth. And when he was lying on his stomach, could turn his head from side to side and fought to lift it up. Kieran loved his tummy time, as the doctors called it. But not near as much as he loved lying under the black and white toys of his baby gym or sitting in his swing watching life go on around him.

His mom and dad were exceptionally proud of him. Everything he learned was met with great enthusiasm and celebrated. But while dad was more laid back and took things all in stride and just went with the flow, mom tended to be nervous and uptight about everything. The smallest couch of sneeze sent her running to him, worried that he'd caught a cold. A slight whimper had her at his side and scooping him up.

But by far, her strongest, and most annoying obsession and paranoia, was her fear of crib death. It was so powerful that she couldn't remember the last time she'd went more than an hour without waking up in the middle of the night to check on him. It had gotten to the point that her tip toe visits to his crib were so frequent, that Flack had caved in and relegated himself to the fact that their son was going to be sleeping beside their bed in his bassinet for an indiscernible amount of time. And even then, she still checked on the baby on a near constant basis. Keeping a flashlight under her pillow and using it to shine on Kieran to make sure his chest was still rising and falling.

She was slowly getting better as her confidence in being a mother grew stronger. The more she trusted her skills and her husband's skills, the more she was able to relax when it came to Kieran's healthy and safety and well being.

Although the thought of leaving him overnight was killing her. It had been just over two months since his birth and she'd barely set foot out of the house without him, let alone entrust him to someone else's care as she went out for the evening. It wasn't that she didn't trust Adam and Gus. Aside from Carmen -who'd since moved out into her own apartment in a building two blocks away- and Danny, Adam and Gus were the two people she trusted completely with her son's life. She knew that they could handle an emergency if, God forbid, one happened to arise. And Adam, who spent every possible waking moment at the apartment fawning over his nephew, was a certified pro when it came to feedings and diaper changes and bathing. And playing. Adam was a natural and completely comfortable with his mad uncle skills as he called them.

No. Adam and Gus were not the issue. The issue was that Sam was having the mother of all episodes of separation anxiety from her infant son. She had spent nearly twenty-four hours a day tending to him since he was three weeks old and his father went back to work. Sam had decided, after Flack had gently reminded her that with the money still in the bank from what Zack had given her in his will there was no need for her to return to work right away, that eight weeks maternity leave just wasn't enough and put in the paper work for an extended leave from the NYPD. The union had accepted the request and her scheduled back to work date was the end of July. When Kieran would be six months old.

She had barely stepped foot out the door in two and a half months. She had managed to get out and do some bridal shopping with Stella, whose wedding to Mac was in less then two months. Other then that, suggestions from both her friends, and her husband, to get out more had fallen on deaf ears. She had no desire to leave her baby for hours at a time. And when she did, the anxiety and worry was so intense she couldn't even have a good time.

Tonight, she was having a hard time letting go, but knew it was an absolute necessity to be able to hand over the reigns and walk out the door.

The invitation for the NYPD's Spring Police Chief's Ball had made it's way to their door -via a uniform officer entrusted to hand deliver them to each recipient- a little over two weeks ago. The ball served as a chance to mingle with not only the Chief and the brass that served below him, but also the NYPD Commissioner and Mayor Bloomberg himself. The event was being held in the masterpiece that was the main ballroom of the Grand Hyatt, located at Grand Central Terminal. Along with the fabulous meal and the dancing, there'd be a silent auction to benefit the NYPD's Bereaved Families Foundation. But most importantly, the night was being used to honour members receiving medals of valour and bravery and those being promoted to different position and higher statures within the department.

Including one Donald Flack Jr. Who although had been going under the title of and receiving the pay rate of Detective Sargeant for three months, was scheduled to received the 'bars' that would grace the chest of his dress uniform, identifying him as a higher rank and the stripes that would be sewn into the left upper arm of the same uniform. It was a remarkable achievement for someone so young. And Sam was ridiculously proud of her husband. He was quickly climbing the ranks of the department and she couldn't have possibly been happier for him.

Or more in love with him.

And it was for him that she was facing the stress and anxiety of actually parting with her baby for the night.

* * *

Finishing with her makeup, she journeyed back into the bedroom and over to the dress lying neatly in the middle of the bed. An ice blue, ankle length strapless Charmeuse gown that she had ordered on line from Saks Fifth Avenue and had her husband pick up on his way home from work only three days ago. She shed her robe and tossed it on the end of the bed and picked up the dress and slid it over her head. Doing up the side zip, she took a deep breath and turned to face the mirror mounted over the dresser.

She had been worried about attending such a high profile event when she still had to lose nearly three quarters of the weight she'd gained while she was pregnant, but had been relieved when she had initially tried the gown on that the empire waist and the gathering at the bust and down the middle of the dress did an expert job at hiding the extra pounds.

I look like a beached whale, she thought with a sigh and turned away from the mirror. Snatching a sheer ice blue chiffon shawl that lay on the bed, she draped it across her shoulders before grabbing the silver and light blue beaded clutch evening bag that sat on the nightstand and slipped into a pair of sling back silver pumps she had placed earlier by the door.

"So you're sure that you're going to be alright alone until Danny gets here?" Sam asked, as she headed down the hall and into the living room. Where her brother sat on the couch, watching Return of the JedI with Kieran's tiny body between his legs and the baby's back resting against his stomach.

Adam looked at her as if she'd asked the most ridiculous question in the world. Then his eyes widened as he eyed his sister from head to toe.

"I know," she sighed. "I look like a double wide."

Adam frowned. "You look beautiful," he informed her. "Seriously beautiful."

Sam smiled and blushed slightly. "Thank you, Peanut. Although I have to admit, I feel like a cow."

"You just had a baby," he said, nodding down at his nephew who, clad in a royal blue sleeper with a soccer ball patch on the bum, was shaking his right fist energetically, causing the wrist rattle - a purple and white chequered band with Velcro closures and a tiny purple elephant's head on top - attached to him to jingle noisily. His big blue eyes slightly crossed as he stared at the toy.

"I am definitely going to have go join a gym with a child care center in it," she declared. "Because I can not go back to work with all this weight still on me."

"Thought you weren't going to go back to work," Adam said, picking up a floppy, stuffed chenille giraffe that sat alongside of him and shaking it in front of his nephew's face. The bells inside the extremities ringing and catching the baby's attention.

"Nothing has been decided yet," Sam told him. "Don and I are going to sit down and talk about it at beginning of July. I said I would listen to his reasons for wanting me to be a stay at home mom and he said he'd listen to mine about wanting to go back to work. So we'll see. Now you are sure you are okay alone with him until Danny gets here?"

"I am not even dignifying that with a response," her brother huffed.

"There's expressed breast milk in the fridge," Sam said. "Enough to get him through until late tomorrow afternoon. But Don and I should be home pretty early."

"Don't rush," Adam told her. "K is in good hands with his Uncle Peanut. Gussie will be here later tonight anyway. So it's all good."

"Just please, no sex in my bed. Alright? I don't care if you two sleep in there, but don't be doing the nasty. Don will never recover if he thinks you two got naked in our bed."

"Are the sheets clean?" Adam asked with a frown.

"I just put them on this morning. Not that it would have matter. It's been a lifetime since my husband and I have expelled our bodily fluids together."

"And that is why I am staying over night and playing nanny so mommy and daddy can have some fun," her brother told Kieran, as he lifted the baby up under the arms and turned him around to face him. Holding the infant under his arms, the fingers of each hand supporting Kieran's head.

"We'll see," Sam said. "I'm not promising you anything."

"Shouldn't be me you're promising anything to. It should be your long suffering husband."

Sam snorted. "His got two perfectly good hands and he's been becoming best friends with them both."

Adam grimaced. "TMI, Sammie."

She grinned and approached the couch. Leaning over, she pecked her brother on the cheek, then pressed her lips to her son's head. The silky black hair tickling her lips. "Be a good boy," she said.

"I will," Adam assured her.

"I meant Kieran," she informed him. "But you be good, too, Peanut. Danny should be around in about an hour. There's tons of junk food and pop for you guys. Remember to at least tidy the living room up and not leave Don's Wii and all the games a total mess. He will kick your ass if his things aren't perfect and exactly the way he left them."

"I promise you that Danny and I will limit the party guests to under a hundred and that Kieran isn't in the same room as the strippers."

"Ha, ha," she said dryly. "Funny. Now I've written all the important numbers down on the white board in the kitchen. Don's work and personal cell, Carmen if you need her and the number for the hotel and the room we are staying in."

"Sammie, just go. Go and call your cab and meet your husband. I know how to babysit and what to do in case of an emergency."

"Remember that Kieran gets four to six ounces every four hours but you have to burp him every two to cut down on the amount of reflux he gets."

"Sammie," Adam sighed heavily. "I know all of this."

"If he gets a tummy ache there's Ovol drops in the cupboard above the sink or Gripe Water under the sink in mine and Don's bathroom. There's a hot water bottle in there too if you think that might help. And he sleeps on his back or propped on his side. Never on his tummy. All the toys come out of the crib and he likes his Ocean Wonders aquarium turned on."

"Samantha!" Adam snapped. "I have spent tons of nights here and I know the routine! I've had extensive hands on experience! No go! Get the hell out of here!"

"Dollar for the swear jar," she informed her brother, pecking the top of his head. "Along with the ten bucks you owe for all the time you've slipped since you got here!"

"I'll shove an IOU in the thing," Adam told her. "Now go."

"I'm going," she said, holding her hands up in surrender. "Bye, sweetie cheeks," she pressed a tender kiss to Kieran's head. "Mommy loves you. She'll be back tomorrow. Daddy and I aren't running away from home or anything. We'll see tomorrow, okay? We love you."

"He knows!" Adam cried. "He knows and he loves you two! Now beat it!"

"You will understand just how hard it is to leave them when you have kids of your own," Sam informed him.

"No kids! We've talked about that! You know this!"

"All it takes is one time," Sam reminded him, as she headed for the door.

"Gus and I are birth control whores!" he called after her. "Speaking of which! Use some! I'm not ready for another niece or nephew yet!"

"We are protected to the max!" Sam assured him. "Call if anything…"

"Just get the hell out of here!" Adam ordered.

"It's nice to be so damn loved!" she hollered sarcastically, the door closing behind her.

Adam sighed heavily and looked at his nephew. "Do me a favour Kieran," he pleaded.

The baby gurgled noisily.

"Stay single. Forever."

* * *

Flack had gone straight on to the hotel following an excruciatingly long double. An entire sixteen hours spent following leads that led nowhere and chasing down possible suspects only to find out in the long run that they had absolutely nothing to do with the rather gruesome axe murder he'd caught in the early morning hours up in Far Rockaway. Normally, Gerrard would have insisted he stay for a triple and put his entire heart and soul into the case, but it was imperative that he attend the ball and receive his stripes and commendation from the mayor and the commissioner.

Four years following the bombing and he was just now receiving a medal of valour for nearly dying while trying to save the lives of others. Not that Flack actually gave a shit. He wasn't one to bask in the praise of the brass or make a big deal out of such things. What really mattered to him was that he had his wife to share the night with him. That he'd see the pride and respect and love in her eyes. And that was worth more than any promotion or award. Samantha was the only person whose opinion mattered to him. As long as she thought he was holding his own as a husband and a father and things were running smoothly between them, then the rest of his life seemed to flow nice and easy.

And so far, so good. Since Kieran had been born, life had been relatively peaceful. The fighting and tension that often existed between them had dissipated and they laughed more and talked things out instead of getting into nasty arguments. He helped around the house and with the baby without having to be nagged at to do it. He got up in the middle of the night or early in the morning when Kieran needed a feeding, regardless if he'd just gotten in a couple of hours before after working a triple. The days of wanting to spend nights out with the guys drinking and playing pool were, for the most part, behind him. He got no greater joy then spending time with his wife and his son. His family. Because with them, he never felt judged or looked down upon. Kieran and Sam loved him and accepted him regardless.

He had grown up. A lot. Since becoming a husband and shortly after a father, Don Flack Jr had become a different man.

For the better.

He had packed two overnight bags the evening before. One for himself and the other for his wife. She had entrusted him to the duty of gathering things for her. How hard was it to put together toothpaste and a tooth brush and deodorant and a change of underwear and clothes for the day after the ball. And a pair of pyjamas. He'd actually packed two. A mint green pair of linen pants and the tank top that went with it. And a little something extra he'd bought for her and would remain a surprise until he managed to talk her into putting it on.

Sam had never been one to sleep naked, but since the baby, she was adamant that she was covered from head to toe. She wouldn't even undress in the same room at her husband, let alone let him anywhere near her intimately. She was self conscious about her weight despite his insistence's that she was the most beautiful woman in the world and he loved her no matter what size she was. She turned him on whether she was a size two or a size twenty. But her self esteem issues and her exhaustion of being a full time mother had cut the love making down to non existent.

The same way it had been for nearly six months now. Flack was dying. Going absolutely insane. Taking care of things yourself was not the same as being intimate with your wife. The sensations and the feelings were much more intense and enjoyable when there was someone just as into it as you were.

Tonight was the night. He was determined. Adam had been a Godsend for agreeing to babysit over night, and Flack had been quick to shell out a ridiculous amount of money on one of the hotel's Lexington suites. One the thirtieth floor, their room was spacious and boasted a separate sitting room with black leather furniture graced with light blue and violet throw pillows and a wall to wall entertainment unit that held a plasma television and elaborate stereo system and a complimentary wet bar. The bedroom, with a picture window that overlooked the city, was massive and boasted an extra large king sized bed, small sitting area and an ensuite bathroom with granite counter tops and a Jacuzzi tub and separate shower stall. He'd handed over some extra cash to receive what was called the Amour package. Which included not only a late one in the afternoon check out, but champagne and strawberries in the room and a full breakfast delivered to the door.

He was determined to make it a night they'd both remember. A night where they could re-connect in every sense of the word. To just enjoy each other and not have to worry about anything, or anyone, coming between them.

Flack had showered and dried off and had just put on a pair of boxers, socks, a white undershirt and the pants to his dress uniform when a knock came to the door of the suite. He headed to answer it, doing up his watch as he went. A broad smile spreading across his face as he checked the peep hole before unlocking the dead bolt.

"Wow.." he said with an appreciative nod after he'd opened the door. "When that agency said they'd send the cream of the crop, they weren't kidding."

Sam gave a slightly embarrassed yet ultimately pleased smile. "Well now that everyone in the rooms surrounding you think that you've hired an escort," she teased, as she stepped into the room.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked as he shut the door and re-locked it. "An escort that looks like you? I could never afford it."

"And don't you forget that," she joked.

He kissed her long and soft in greeting. He noticed she seemed more relaxed and at ease. Quickly and willingly melting into the kiss and laying a hand on the back of his head to lengthen and deepen it.

"What was that for?" he asked, his eyes sparkling, breathless as he took in her glowing face and her dancing golden eyes.

"I'm not allowed to kiss my husband?" she inquired.

"It's been a while since you kissed me like that," he said.

She smiled. "Maybe I missed kissing you like that."

"I know I missed it. Think you could kiss me like that again? We got a lot of time to make up for."

She buried her fingers in the hair at the back of his head as he leaned into her once more and covered her lips in a long and intense kiss. He had missed how soft and supple her lips were. How moist her tongue was as it slid so provocatively and perfectly against his.

"Maybe we should take this off," he suggested, his heart pounding furiously, his fingers brushing against the belt on the soft pink trench coat she was wearing.

"I'm not naked under here, you know," she giggled. "I am dressed."

"That's too bad," he said with an exaggerated pout. "Here I was thinking you'd showed up at the door in nothing but a trench coat and some sexy undies and garter belt and stockings."

"Well I do have those on. I just have a dress on over top of them."

"Take this off," he whispered, his fingers making short work of the belt cinched tightly around her waist. "I wanna see what you look like."

"What if you think I look terrible?" she asked nervously.

"Never gonna happen," he replied, pressing kisses along her jaw line as his hands easily divested her of the coat, letting it fall in a rumbled heap at her feet. His one hand gripped her hip tightly, the fabric of her dress feeling luxurious under his fingertips. The fingers of his other hand drifted across her collarbone, his lips following suit.

She shivered under the touch of his warm, moist mouth. Feeling the most overwhelming and intense need to him. Totally at ease now that they were alone without any worry of interruption. Yet still slightly aware of how hideous she thought her body would look to him.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed against her bare shoulder. "You smell so good…you taste so good, baby."

"I don't know if I can…"

He silenced her with a deep kiss. His fingers trailing slowly across her shoulder, down the side of her neck and over the swell of her breast. He felt the goose bumps that pricked up on her satiny skin. Could feel her heart pounding against him. "I want you so bad, Samantha," he whispered into her ear. "I need you so bad. I've missed you so much."

To emphasize the point, he captured her hands and moved them both to the front of his pants. His desire more then evident.

"I missed you, too," she said, sighing as his lips found the side of her neck. Her fingers quickly and efficiently snapping open the button and sliding down the zipper of his uniform pants. Reaching inside and sliding her hands into his boxers to firmly stroke his rock hard length.

He moaned against her neck, his hand slipping behind her, searching aimlessly for the zipper on her dress.

"Donnie…" she breathed against him.

"I'm working on it, babe," he said. "I just can't seem to find…"

"You're looking in the wrong place," she told him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the zipper isn't there. It's here," removing one of her hands from inside of his pants, she reached around to grab his hand and move it to the side of her dress.

"Well that explains things," he chuckled. "Here I was thinking my technique was so rusty I couldn't find a simple zipper anymore."

She gave a small giggle. "You're just having some technical difficulties," she said.

"Put your hands back where they were. I'm not having any difficulties where it matters most."

"You're going to wrinkle my dress," she fretted. "And I can't walk into the ballroom looking like I just rolled out of bed."

"Which is exactly why I'm getting you out of the dress," he told her, and finally unzipped it and let it fall to her feet. Pulling back and taking in the sight of her in a strapless, lace cream coloured bra, matching bikini underwear and a garters and stockings. The woman was a goddess. Walking sex. Extra weight or not. "You are so amazing," he praised, running his hands along her sides and to the small of her back before moving them down to cup her ass.

"I'm embarrassed," she admitted.

"Why? Why are you embarrassed around me? I'm your husband."

"I'm fat," she mumbled, looking away from him. Her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Baby, look at me," hooking a finger under her chin, he pulled her head back so she was forced to look at him. "I love you, Samantha. You're my wife. The mother of my son. To me, you are the most incredibly sexy and alluring woman in the world. Don't even doubt how you make me feel. Emotionally or physically."

"I just…"she bit her lip. "I don't want to disappoint you."

He frowned. "Why would you think you'd disappoint me?"

She shrugged. "Look at me," she said in a tiny voice. "When we first met, I had this killer body on me that you couldn't keep your hands off of. And then I got pregnant and I got big so quickly. And before long I was huge and now…just look at me, Donnie."

"I am looking at you," he told her. "Every inch of you. And I can't get enough of you."

"Well you're insane," she declared. "Because I don't know how you can stand looking at me."

"Maybe because you're fucking sexy and you turn me on and I love you."

She smiled.

"I've missed you, baby. I've missed us. The whole intimacy thing. I know it probably makes me sound like a sex maniac, but…"

She laid two fingertips over his lips. "I've missed us, too," she said. "I missed feeling your hands and your lips all over my body. I miss the feel of your skin against mine. And I miss how it feels when you're inside of me."

Her words, as simple as they were, made him shudder from head to toe. To hear that honesty in her voice, to see the sincerity and the desire and the longing in her eyes, was a bigger turn on then anything ever could be.

He leaned in to kiss her. But instead of seizing her mouth with his, he held her face in his hands and trailed the tip of his tongue over her top lip, followed by her bottom, then blazed a path of kisses along her jaw to her ear. His hands sliding from her face and down her neck and along her bare arms. Capturing her hands in his, he held them tightly as he looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you so much, Sammie," he whispered, his lips brushing hers. "Let me make love to you. Let me show you how much I love you."

"But…"

"No buts," he said, kissing her chastely. "It's just me and you here, baby. There's no one to interrupt us. We don't have to worry about the baby waking up for a feeding or dispatch calling me to send me to a scene. Nothing like that. It's me and you in this amazing hotel room. You can relax, okay?"

She nodded. "Please don't…" she bit her lip, unsure if she should continue.

"Please don't what?" Flack asked.

"Please don't look at me and be disappointed," she replied, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"That's never going to happen," he vowed. "You don't realize how beautiful you are. I wish you could see yourself like I see you."

"So do I," she sighed.

"Well seeing as that's not possible…" he kissed the corner of her lips before his mouth travelled along her jaw once again. "…how about I make you feel as beautiful as I see you?"

She smiled. "I like that idea. But what about my hair and my makeup?"

"Makeup can always be fixed up. I'm sure you brought some along with you."

She nodded.

"And as far as your hair goes, how about we do what we can to avoid messing it up?"

"But how…"

"You remember what I told you? A long time ago at the start of our relationship. About my thing for sex against a wall?"

She giggled. "I remember."

"Won't mess your hair if we do it that way."

"But we don't have a lot of time and.."

"I'll make it quick."

"It's been six months nearly, Donnie. Don't you think our first time should be romantic and slow and…"

"We got all night for that, babe. And all morning. And it has been six months. A long, long six months. Doing things for myself is not the same as making love to my wife. And as bad as this sounds for me to admit, after six months, I honestly don't think I'm going to last that long."

"Me either," she admitted with a sigh. "I'm kind of on a hair trigger. When I was in the bath earlier I kind of got myself into the mood with this book I was reading and I…well I had to do something about it. Only took about a minute."

"That fucking turns me on to hear you talk about doing things to yourself," he said, lips against her shoulder as he let go of one hand in order to reach behind her and undo her bra.

"I thought about you," she told him, her hand reaching into his pants once again. "I thought about you and what it would feel like to have you go down on me. To feel your lips and your tongue on my clit while you finger me."

"That turned you on?" he asked, his tongue tracing a path along her shoulder and down onto the top of her left breast.

She nodded. "You know what really turned me on, though?"

"What's that?" he asked, cupping her breast and lifting it, his tongue circling her aching, erect nipple.

"Don't do that!" she cried. "I'm breast feeding and I might…"

"Doesn't bother me," he assured her, causing her to moan as he sucked firmly on her nipple. He dropped her other hand and slid his over her thigh and between her legs. Pushing aside her panties, he touched her clit softly. "You're wet already, baby," he said, looking up at her. "Tell me what really turned you on earlier."

"I don't know if…"

"Tell me," he demanded. "I wanna hear it. What made you come? What were you thinking about when you had came earlier?"

"I was thinking about you fucking me," she breathed. "What it felt like to have your thick, hard cock inside of me."

He smiled and slid a finger inside of her abruptly. She cried out and gripped at his shoulder with one hand, the other tightening around his cock. "Let me fuck you then," he said, kissing his way up to her lips. "Let me show you that you just don't have to think about those things. Let me make you feel good, baby. Let me feel you come while I'm inside of you. Will you let me?"

She nodded and captured his mouth in a breathtaking kiss. Losing herself completely in his touch and in his smell. And in the feel of his strong hands cupping her ass and his length buried deep inside of her. Turned on by the way he spoke to her as he fucked her hard and fast up against that wall in their luxury hotel suite. His words spurring her want on as he talked about how tight and wet her pussy was. How much his cock had missed her pussy. How much he missed her.

And before long she was coming undone. Screaming his name with her nails digging into the back of his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.

Wholly and completely becoming one with him after so very long.

* * *

An hour and a half later, permanent smiles on their faces and an indescribable glow to her face, they finally emerged from their hotel room. Her makeup freshened up and her undergarments put back in order and her evening gown in place once more. Flack in his dress blues and polished police boots, carrying the uniform hat in one hand as his other sat on the small of his wife's back as they headed for the elevator.

"Think your bosses are going to know you just spent the last hour or so getting lucky?" Sam asked with a giggle.

He shrugged. "So what if they do. They'll just be jealous it wasn't them. It's probably been a long time since either Sinclair or Gerrard got laid. That being said, I warn you about his wife now."

"Whose? Gerrard's?"

Flack nodded and pressed the down button. "Her name is Etienne. Came here when she was a teenager from France. Her father got a job here on Wall Street. Her mother was some kind of big deal in Paris. I guess her old man was a huge politician or some shit. Whatever he was, her mother was a beauty Queen over there. Debutante I guess. So she thinks her shit doesn't stink."

"Is she pretty?" Sam asked curiously.

"For her age, I guess. I don't know. I don't look at women old enough to be my mother. I guess she's alright. She's had a lot of surgeries to try and look like she's still twenty. Trust me, they haven't worked. But she thinks they have. Botox, chin lift, eye lift, ass lift, nose job, boob job. You name it."

"How does she pay for all that when her husband is an Inspector with the NYPD? And why in the hell would someone like that marry someone like him? A cop? She obviously met him when they were younger and he wasn't part of upper management."

"They met when he was a uniform apparently. Don't know the particulars, but I guess she thought he was a bad boy. Maybe she's like you and has a cop fetish. From what I heard, daddy left her some huge inheritance. And we're talking in the seven zero's range. You didn't know that Gerrard was married to some rich bitch?"

Sam shook her head.

"He lives on the Upper West side in some damn mansion big enough to hold two Walmart's. I can't believe I never told you any of this before."

"Well Gerrard isn't exactly the first choice for our dinner conversations or pillow talk," Sam reasoned, stepping onto the elevator as the doors opened. "How come you're warning me about her? Is she going to eat me alive?"

"I doubt it. Once she hears your from Brooklyn she'll be shitting herself. I just know how you get when people think they're better then you. I know what kind of a mouth you have on you."

"In other words, play nice with the brass' wives," Sam concluded.

"Please and thank you," Flack said and hit the button for the main floor.

"And what about Sinclair's wife?" Sam asked.

Her husband shrugged. "She's relatively normal. Just an average girl. Michelle. Used to be a cop."

"Really?"

Flack nodded. "This is wife number four for him. He started out married to his high school sweetheart. As he climbed the ranks of the NYPD, he started ditching wives. He divorced the first one for some girl cop he was banging when he was captain of the three five. Married her, few ears later he met some woman that worked in victim's services. Divorced, married that girl. Few years ago, he dumped her for this pretty little uniform that crossed his path. They've only been married a couple of years. She's younger then you are."

Sam snorted and shook her head. "He's a dirty old man. Wasn't he sexually harassing people around that same time you were chasing the spy out of Devon's apartment?"

"That was the rumour," Flack said. "Of course no one talks about that."

"Of course not. God forbid anything got in his way of becoming Commissioner. I am telling you, the day he becomes Commissioner is the day I quit. Because the NYPD will seriously go down the shitter."

"I hope the Mayor doesn't fall for any of Sinclair's political bullshit and doesn't ever do anything that stupid," Flack sighed. "Guy would make a shitty Commissioner. Not that Faulkner is doing that good of a job at the moment. I mean four years after I get blown up I get an award? Four years? What the hell is that?"

"That's because they don't know a good thing when they see it," Sam reasoned. "Lucky for you, I do."

He smiled and kissed her temple. "You were amazing by the way," he said, pecking her shoulder.

She blushed slightly. "So were you," she said.

He kissed her softly.

"And I have to say," she eyed him from head to toe. "You look damn yummy."

"Yummy?" he chuckled.

"Very, very, very yummy," she said. "But you'd be even more yummy if you'd put the hat on."

He sighed and looked down at the offending object in his hand. "It's uncomfortable," he complained.

"Come on. Make your wife happy. If I'm happy, then you'll be happy later on when we get back to our room."

"You drive a hard bargain," Flack declared, and slipped the hat on.

"Be still my heart," she sighed. "Goddamnit you're hot."

"Glad to be of service," he said with a grin.

"Seriously, baby," she said. "You are. You have no idea what dress blues do to me. It's like arrest me officer. Frisk me. Cuff me. Strip search me. I have been a very, very, very bad girl."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body tight against his. "How bad is bad?" he asked, his lips hovering over his.

She just smiled.

"Good thing for you I worked today so my cuffs are in the room," he told her. "And trust me. I plan on using them."

"You are on hell of a sexy police man," she sighed.

"Would you have still found me sexy and loved me had I been a construction worker or a garbage man or some shit?" he asked curiously.

"Donnie, I would have loved you and found you sexy no matter what."

He smiled and kissed her softly.

"Then I would have made you dress up as a police man when we had sex," she said, and burst into giggles.

"You are a bad girl," he told her, as the elevator reached the main floor and the doors opened up.

"The baddest," she said, winking over her shoulder as she stepped into the lobby.

He grinned, checking out her ass as her dress swayed against her body with each step she took.

_Forget about being a sexy police man,_ he thought as he followed her. _I'm the luckiest cop in the entire damn world._

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is still adding this story to alerts and favs! I am sorry it took so long to post again on this, but the muse had all but abandoned me. But now it's back. And therefore, VFB will be taking a little break. Hope you will all come back when VFB makes its return!**

**Much love and thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter posted forever ago!**


	108. Painting the town blue Part Two

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN**

**A/N: I HOPE EVERYONE HAD A GREAT HOLIDAY! HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL!**

* * *

**Painting the town blue Part Two**

"I don't care if it hurts  
I want to have control  
I want a perfect body  
I want a perfect soul  
I want you to notice  
When I'm not around  
You're so fuckin' special  
I wish I was special  
But I'm a creep, I'm weirdo  
What the hell am I doing here?  
I don't belong here."  
-Creep, Radiohead

* * *

It was quarter after eight in the evening when Danny let himself into Flack's apartment, using the spare key that his best friend had given him months ago. A plastic bag from Foot Locker in one hand and a brown paper one containing Chinese food tucked under his arm. He could hear the television on in the other room and Adam talking in a phenomenally good Yogi Bear voice. Closing the door behind him, Danny toed off his boots and journeyed into the kitchen where he sat the take out on the counter and dropped his keys on top of the microwave before shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on one of the kitchen chairs.

He journeyed out into the living room still carrying the shopping back and smirked as he found Adam on his ass in the middle of the floor, making funny faces and entertaining Kieran with animated voices. The baby was freshly bathed, his black hair still damp and matted to his head and had been dressed in a bright yellow sleeper, sat strapped into his infant Papa-san chair.

"How goes it Uncle Peanut?" Danny asked, tousling Adam's hair.

"It goes well," the lab tech replied. "We just had a bath and got a fresh diaper and jammies on and had a bottle. So it's all good."

"I meant how goes it with Kieran. Not with yourself," Danny teased.

"Very funny," Adam snorted.

"Well the place hasn't burned down and the kid doesn't look any worse for wears, so I guess you're doing an all right job," the CSI said, as he placed the Foot Locker bag on the ground and crouched down in front of his 'nephew'. "How ya doin' Little Flack?" he asked, running a hand over Kieran's fine black hair and trailing a finger down the baby's rosy cheeks. "You keeping out of trouble? Not causing too many issues for your Uncle Peanut?"

"He's been an angel," Adam declared proudly as he used the coffee table to push himself up onto his feet. "I was schooling him in the finer art of the brilliance of George Lucas."

Danny rolled his eyes and reached out to unclasp the restraints holding Kieran in the chair. "Come and see your Uncle Dan-o big guy," he said, carefully picking the infant up and laying him along his forearm. "Who loves you most of all?" he asked the baby as he sat down on the floor and stretched his legs out. "Who loves you more than anything in this world?"

"Uncle Adam," the other man answered, as if it was the most logical response in the world.

"In your dreams. Uncle Dan-o's your favourite, isn't he, K? Your Uncle Dan-o loves you the most. He loves you so much, he just wants to munch you and gobble you up like a big cookie. Yes, he does."

Adam rolled his eyes as Danny tickled Kieran's tummy, eliciting a wide smile from the infant. "It's just gas you know," he said, collapsing onto the couch. "He's not really smiling at you."

"Yes he is," Danny argued. "Say yes I am, Uncle Adam. You're just jealous that I love Uncle Dan-o more than you."

The lab tech flipped him the middle finger.

"And look what your Uncle Danny picked up for you today," Danny laid Kieran down on his legs and with one hand on the baby's stomach, reached for the shopping bag with the other. "Check this stuff out," he said, pulling an impossibly tiny Giants jersey from the bag. "Eli Manning jersey just for you, buddy," he told his nephew. "And this…" sticking his hand into the bag once more time, Danny pulled out a football. "…for when me and you and your old man are ready to toss it around."

"You think that's cool?" Adam asked, as he leaned over the side of the couch and scooped up medium sized cardboard box. "Look what I bought him today," the lab tech said and held the item out for Danny to see.

"A science set?" Danny asked, a smirk on his face. "Are you kidding me?"

"A chemistry set, actually," Adam corrected him. "And it's a top of the line chemistry set. Does over forty experiments. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Flack should kick your ass for letting you bring that into his house. You trying to turn his kid into a geek?"

"I'm trying to turn him into a future Nobel prize winner," Adam informed the CSI.

"Ain't no future Nobel prize winners in this house," Danny declared. "This kid right here? Future number one draft pick for the NFL and a future hall of famer. Mark my words."

"Don't let Flack hear you utter Kieran's name and the NFL in the same sentence," Adam said. "It's NHL and nothing but around here."

"Daddy's little Ranger," Danny said to the baby. "You're going to be putting pucks in the net and crushing guys at the blue line. And you're going to hire Uncle Danny as your agent and pay me huge dollars while you're raking in the millions."

"He's going to hire me as his assistant when he's discovering a cure for cancer," Adam declared, turning the box over in his hands and studying the writing on the back. "Or appointing me to Vice President when he's running the country."

"You wanna fight about this Ross?" Danny asked, as he gently and carefully slipped the Giants jersey onto his nephew. The thing was massive on the kid, but it looked damn cute. "You wanna take this out onto the street? 'Cause if I say he's going to be a pro athlete, then that is what he's going to be. End of story, a'right?"

"I say we take this to the Wii," Adam said, then headed for the kitchen. "Fight our battles during a little John Madden football. After we eat that is. I'm starving."

"Chinese is on the counter!" Danny called to his friend as he pushed himself across the floor on his butt and leaned up against the couch. "You mind making me up a plate? I wanna have a talk with my little man here."

"Don't corrupt him too much," came Adam's voice, along with the opening of cupboards and the clattering of plates and silverware.

"Never," Danny promised, straightening out the jersey before leaning down to press a tender kiss on the tip of Kieran's tiny nose.

All he had to do to cheer himself up on a shitty day was think about his godson. About how precious and innocent and beautiful the baby was. About how big K was getting and all the things he was learning in such a short period of time. Watching him grow and develop was nothing short of amazing, as far as Danny was concerned, and he was enjoying every moment he got to spend with his nephew. And he tried his damndest to make sure those moments happened as often as possible. He and Flack had always been the best of friends. But since K had come into the world, Danny had noticed that his relationship with his best friend had evolved into something so much more. A brotherly love existed between them. And Danny looked at Don Flack Jr with the utmost awe and respect. Flack had come a long way, maturity wise, in such a short period of time. And he was showing everyone that he was one hell of a husband and an even better father.

"So tell me little man," Danny said to the baby, as he combed his fingers through Kieran's silky black hair. "You meet any cute girls in this Mom and Tot swim thing your old lady is taking you to? Any hotties there? Anyone that's caught you eye that looks good in her suit and her Little Swimmers?"

The baby gurgled noisily.

"Don't worry about it too much," Danny told him. "You got a lot of years ahead of you to meet girls. Lots of years and lots of ladies for you to go through. Don't jump into anything right away and don't give your heart away to the first girl that shows interest. No getting your heart broken, okay? You hang on as long as you have to before falling in love. Make sure you know for a fact, a hundred and ten percent, that the one you're with is the one that you love with all your heart and your soul."

Kieran stared up at his uncle with wide blue eyes.

"And whatever you do, when you do find that one? Don't let her go? Love her and treasure her every fibre of your being. Don't mess things up and spend your whole life regretting the things you should have said or the things that you've done and wish like hell you hadn't. You treat her right from the start, you hear me? You hold onto her as tight as you can and tell her every day what she means to you. Think you can do that for me?"

Another gurgle.

"'Cause you know what? Your uncle Danny? He messed up. Big time. He let the one true love of his life get away. Now don't get me wrong, I love your Aunt Erica. I do. It's just…" Danny sighed heavily. "It's just she's not this other girl, you know? And this other girl? She has my heart and I don't think she'll ever give it back. And I don't think I want it back. 'Cause as long as she has it, it means that me and her are never able to walk away completely fro each other, you know what I'm saying?"

Kieran yawned noisily.

"It's confusing, I know. Women are confusing. Ask your dad. He'll agree with me. He'll tell you how women were put on this earth to drive us completely insane. And how we let them do it and we keep going back for more. You're lucky, you know that? That you got the parents that you do. You've got an amazing mommy and daddy. Your parents love each other so much and they don't let a day go by without telling each other that. And your dad…well your dad is nuts about your mom. Completely and utterly nuts. And I think she thinks pretty highly of him, too. I mean, look at what they managed to bring into this world together. What they created just 'cause they love one another. You're a pretty amazing, special kid. And they're just as blessed to have you as you are to have them."

The baby yawned again. His eyes slowly drifting closed. His tiny hand curling around one of Danny's fingers as his uncle's hand softly lay on his stomach.

"You're a good boy, Kieran," Danny whispered, as he brought the infant up to rest against his chest. A hand on the back of K's head, the other hand under the baby's. "You're a good boy and you've got a long, great life ahead of you. You know that right? You're going to do amazing things with your life. No doubt about it."

Danny pressed his lips against the side of Kieran's head and closed his eyes. Relaxing in the sounds of the baby's steady breathing and the smell of his hair and clothes.

"What's ya saying to him?" Adam asked curiously, as he brought food out into the living room.

Danny smiled. "Everything that I so desperately needed to," he replied.

* * *

The grand ball room was a spectacular sight to behold. The entire room was decorated in various shades of blue. From the tablecloths to the seat covers to the brocade drapes that adorned the palladium windows and the French doors that led out onto a canopy covered patio. The ceiling bore loose panels of royal blue gossamer fabric over top of thousands of sparkling miniature white lights.

Waiters in starched white top coats with tails and navy blue pants and linen gloves hurried around the room serving hors d'oeuvres and champagne to women in regal evening gowns and men in both NYPD dress blues and tuxedos. Uniformed busboys busied themselves with quickly clearing empty wine glasses and champagne flutes from tables elegantly decorated with sparkling crystal and fine china and gleaming silverware. Centrepieces of fresh flowers and pillar candles completing the look. Guests mingled while a string quarter played classical music in the far corner of the massive ballroom.

Despite the extreme beauty and sheer elegance of her surroundings, the only thing Samantha could think about what was the women that were in that room. About how they were all slender and phenomenally attractive and in a class that existed far above her head. They wore designer dresses and shoes and bore hairstyles that cost three hundred a sitting. Diamonds and various other gems sparkled on their ear lobes and around their necks. There was no way that these women were the wives of just regular old police officers simply there to get the hardware of a well deserved promotion. These were women that looked as if they'd be born, and bred into, the high life.

And none of them appeared to be over a size five. That was her major concern. How she looked amongst a sea of women with supermodel figures. She'd never been the type to be self conscious about her appearance. While she had always kept herself in shape and wore stylish clothes that showed off her figure and make up from time to time, her opinion about her looks had always been 'What you see is what you get'. And she had always firmly believed that if people didn't like what they saw, they didn't have to look.

But that was until she'd put on nearly sixty pounds during seven and a half months of pregnancy. She had managed to loose twenty five of those pounds through breast feeding - best damn diet she'd ever been on in fact - and well balanced and nutritious meals and getting some exercise in and around the apartment. Taking the stairs to and from the laundry room in the basement was her current choice for working up a sweat. But there was still another thirty five pounds to go and she cursed that weight each and every time she looked in the mirror. It was going to take a miracle to go back to the way she'd looked before.

If she ever got there. And her main fear was that if she didn't, that the man beside her handing in their invitations to the hostess at the door, would simply stop finding her attractive and move onto a woman far more attractive and slender.

"What are you so nervous about?" Flack asked, as he laid a hand on the small of his wife's back and escorted her into the ballroom. Aware of how she was trembling and the way she looked around the room with wide, anxious eyes.

"Look at all these women," Sam whispered, as a statuesque blond in a clingy gold sequined gown paraded past them. "Did you see the body on her?" she asked her husband.

"On who?" he asked, grinning down at her. Truth was, he had seen her. A woman with a body like that was hard to miss. But he wasn't interested. Maybe in another time, another place. Long before Samantha Ross had ever come into his life and transformed it for the better. She was his wife. The only woman he wanted. Whether she believed that or not.

"Don't tell me you just didn't see the reincarnation of Jane Mansfield walk by," Sam said in response.

"I saw her," he admitted. "I'm just more interested in the woman that I'm with."

She smiled brightly. "Look at these women, Donnie," she said, as they began their search for their assigned table. "There's more Roberto Cavalli and Versace in this room then on a runway in Milan. And either all these women were born lucky and have stayed skinny all their lives, or there's been a lot of money spent on liposuction."

"My guess is the latter," Flack said. "Ask me, none of them look real. Fake eyelashes, fake lips, fake boobs. Might as well trade your wife in for one of them outrageously expensive plastic dolls we heard them talking about on CNN the other night."

"Silicone," Sam corrected. "They were silicone."

"Well whatever the hell they were, they were goddamn creepy and a guy's gotta be really desperate for company to shell out that kind of green. An escort or a hooker would cost less."

"The doll can't carry some nasty STD," she reasoned. "And she can't talk so the guy doesn't have to have any social skills."

"Think he'd have performance anxiety?" Flack asked.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean do you think he has a hard time getting it up when he's doing his business with the doll."

Sam grinned. "Are we actually having this conversation at an NYPD ball?"

"I'm just curious is all. Like do you think he gets all nervous when it comes time to get down to business? That's daunting when you're with a real woman. Think it's the same with one of them dolls? Think he gets all freaked out she's not going to like his style and has a hard time getting it up?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"What?" he asked with a grin, sliding his hand up to the middle of her back and dropping a kiss on the top of her hand. "It's a legit question. Performance anxiety is a killer. All guys go through it."

"All of them?" her eyes sparkled up at him. "You didn't seem to have a problem with that the first time we were actually together. In fact, both nights you were on your game. Even if you did bail the first time we ever tried anything."

"I bailed for a perfectly good reason," he reminded her. "And you know what? I was nervous. Both times."

"You were?"

He nodded. "Really nervous. Scared shitless actually."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Guess I was worried you weren't going to like my technique. What's good for some women doesn't do it for others, right? How was I suppose to know if you were going to be the one it wouldn't be good for?"

"Well you had nothing to worry about," she assured him. "There was nothing for me to be disappointed in. Trust me. You handled your own quite well."

He grinned, pleased with her answer. And finally locating their table near the front of the room, pulled her chair out for her. "You never answered my question," he said, waiting to take his own seat until she was sitting herself.

"What question?" she asked.

"The one about if the guy would have performance anxiety while trying to get it on with a doll."

"I don't know, Donnie. Why don't you buy one and find out?"

He smirked. "Why spend that kind of money on a doll that just lies there when I get to have free sex with a wild and crazy nympho like you every night?" he asked.

She smiled and leaned into him. "That is a very, very good answer."

He grinned and winked at her and kissed her softly. "Don't be so nervous, babe," he said, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "All these women here? They've got nothing up on you."

"I've got about ten sizes up on them," Sam snorted. "If not more."

He snorted. "Think it matters to me what numbers are written on the label of your dress? Or what comes up on the scale when you step on it? I don't care about that shit. You just had a baby two months ago, Sammie. It's going to take some time to get back to the way you were. And you need to do that naturally. Not go on some crazy ass diet. Last thing K or I need is you getting sick."

"And if I don't get back to the way I was?" she asked.

Flack shrugged and picked up her hand. Entwining his fingers with hers, he laid their joined hands on the table top. "Doesn't matter to me. You know that. I love you no matter what, babe. Think I can take this damn hat off now? It's making my head sweat."

"You take it off now, you're going to have a huge mark from it across your forehead," she said. "I personally think you're incredibly hot in your uniform."

"Yeah? Well we could have just easily stayed up stairs and I could have worn it just for your eyes only. Instead of having to come down here and mingle with the brass and get some stupid award."

"And the bars and the stripes to go on your uniform," she reminded him. "And it's not a stupid award. It's a medal of valour. And you deserve it. I know I'm going to be incredibly proud hearing your name called and seeing you go up there."

"And you have every reason to be," Gerrard said as he appeared at the side of Flack's chair.

The usually arrogant and crotchety Inspector was all smiles and incredibly charming and handsome in his dress blues, the left breast decorated with a wide array of gleaming medals and his highly polished badge. Beside him was a tall and slender woman, stunning in a beaded red sheath dress with her long black hair gathered into an elegant upsweep held in place by sparkling ruby and crystal combs.

"Inspector," Flack greeted, as he got to his feet and offered his hand.

"Detective Flack," Gerrard said in return, shaking the younger man's hand. "I guess I should be saying Detective Sargent Flack now."

"You remember my wife, Samantha," Flack said, as he held out his hand to his wife and helped her to her feet.

"Inspector Gerrard," Sam greeted and offered her hand.

"How could I ever forget such a lovely face," Gerrard gave a smile and kissed the top of the young woman's hand. "It's been a long time since I've seen you at the crime lab. I trust that maternity leave is treating you well."

"So far so good," she responded. "I'm enjoying the extra time off."

"This is my wife, Etienne," Gerrard introduced. "Darling, this is Detective Sargent Donald Flack Jr and his lovely wife, Samantha."

"A pleasure," his wife said in a soft, elegant voice as she shook their hands.

"Detective Flack and his wife just welcome a child into the world," Gerrard explained to his better half. "A little boy. Kevin, is it?"

"Kieran," Flack corrected. "He's two and a half months old now."

"And doing fine I presume?" Gerrard asked. "He had a bit of a rough start," he said to his wife. "I guess he had to spend some extra time in the hospital."

"He's doing great now," Flack said. "Eats a lot. Starting to put on the weight. Still really tiny but he's picking up."

"It's been a long time since we had a baby in our midst," Gerrard told the younger couple. "Our Natalie is just getting ready to head off to college and her younger brother is interested in a career with the department. I guess now that you've had yourself a son, the NYPD can look forward to having another Flack join the ranks in eighteen or so years."

"That's something we'll have to see about," Flack told his superior officer. "We're just enjoying him and his baby days. His future is the last thing we've even thought about considering."

"With a Flack as his father, you know he bleeds blue," Gerrard said. "There's no question in my mind that come twenty years, he's going to shattering your records within the department and making a hell of a name for himself."

"We'll be just as proud of him if he goes on to college and gets a degree or two like his mother," Flack told the older man. "And to be honest, I'd think we'd both prefer if he took that path with his life."

"You can't have the last name Flack and not be in the NYPD," Chief Sinclair declared, as he and his wife, a petite woman with her dirty blond hair done up in an elegant chignon and her slightly chubby body on display in a black taffeta and silk, off the shoulder gown.

"Not if you're a male, anyway," Gerrard said.

"Chief Sinclair," Flack offered his hand to the older man.

"Detective Sargeant Flack…Mrs Flack…a pleasure to see both of you here. This is my wife, Michelle."

Handshakes and pleasantries were exchanged before Sinclair turned back to the younger man in their midst.

"What was this I was hearing about not wanting your son to go into the department when he's older?" the Chief of Detectives asked, clearly disturbed at the thought.

"I didn't say we didn't want him to chose a career with the NYPD," Flack defended himself. "I was just telling Inspector Gerrard that my wife and I would be proud of Kieran if he chose to go to college after high school as opposed to going into the academy. That we may actually prefer the thought of him getting his education and a degree. Just like his mother."

"Then he could be an excellent addition to the crime lab," Sinclair declared. "Although it would be a shame to see a name like Flack go to waste by having him cooped up like a mad scientist when he could be out on the street making a difference and living up to his family name."

"Well with all due respect, Chief Sinclair," Flack said, trying to remain calm. "But he's a Ross just as much as he is a Flack. And the Ross' are the ones with all the brains. My wife has a masters and a BA from Dartmouth. And if our son chooses to go in the same direction as his mother, I say all the power to him."

"He'll be doing more good out on the street serving and protecting," Sinclair argued. "When you carry the last name Flack, you also carry a lot of pride for the history behind that name. Something you know first hand about."

"Then maybe we'll consider changing his last name from Flack to Ross," the younger man said with a polite smile.

Sam cleared her throat noisily and tightened her grip on her husband's hand. In an effort to calm him down.

Sinclair gave a slight smirk. "Now that would be a damn shame in the eyes of the NYPD. And an insult to those members of your family that wore the uniform before you."

"The real insult is in the fact that those family members who wore the uniform before me, can't swallow their pride long enough to even met the newest addition to the family. That's an insult," Flack said. "And my son is two months old. He's got a long life ahead of him and lots of time before he has to consider what career path to choose."

"It's a shame when people push children into something they don't want to do," Gerrard's wife spoke up. "I say give them gentle pushes in several different directions and then simply let them choose which one they want to go in."

Both Sam and Flack appreciated the woman defending them and their choices with their child, even if her husband and Sinclair laughed as if her words were the most ridiculous ones they had ever heard in either of their lifetimes.

"You always were the soft one when it came to raising the kids," Gerrard said to his wife.

"When you have the last name of Flack, it's all but expected of you to follow in your father's footsteps," Sinclair told her.

"Being a Flack practically makes you NYPD royalty," Gerrard added.

"Well I understand that the family may be well respected and bearing the name may come with some form of prestige," his wife said. "But really, Stanton. It is not the end of the world if the boy doesn't become a police officer. He's just a wee baby still. And his mother and father know what is best for him."

"Well hopefully," Sinclair spoke up, his dark eyes locked with Flack's intense blue ones. "They know that their son following in the father and grandfather's footsteps is what's best for the department. It would be a shame if the blood line simply died off and stopped where it is out of sheer spite."

"Maybe we just want to wait and see what our wants to do in twenty years instead of showing a Glock into his hand when he's only two months old and telling him his future's already been decided for him," Sam said.

Gerrard and Sinclair stared at the young woman. Unblinking and unmoving. And highly unimpressed. While smiles tucked at their wives' lips.

"If you'll all excuse me," Sam said, squeezing her husband's hand tightly before letting it go. "I need to go and use the ladies room and call home."

Flack nodded and kissed her chastely, watching as she walked away confidently, proud of her for getting the last word in on Sinclair and Gerrard. Something not a lot of people could attest to getting away with.

Etienne watched the pretty young woman as she headed through the crowded ballroom. She was impressed with Samantha Flack's poise and grace. And her obviously feisty and independent demeanour.

"Your wife is absolutely adorable," she said as she turned to Flack. "She's fiery and intelligent and knows how to handle herself. You've got your work cut out for you with that one. I hope you know how to hold onto someone like that."

He smiled and nodded slowly. "Holding on to her is a technique I'm trying to perfect every day," he said.

* * *

"You ever see yourself having kids?" Adam asked, as he and Danny sat on the couch, with heaping plates of Chinese food balanced in their laps and cans of Coke on the cluttered coffee table.

The television tuned was into ESPN -Danny threatened to beat the lab tech off if he didn't turn off the Stars Wars already- and the volume had ben turned down to a decent level as Kieran slept peacefully in the bassinet Danny had moved into the living room from the master bedroom. The baby was wrapped securely in a white and blue stripped receiving blanket and was propped on his side to control his reflux. So far, so good. No puking and no stomach aches.

"I've never really ever thought much about it," Danny replied. "K's the first baby I've ever really been around. I mean, I've got cousins that have babies and what not, but I'm never really been close to them. So being around Kieran is a whole new ball game for me."

"Seriously?" Adam asked.

Danny nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem to know what you're doing. You're totally comfortable around him and you know exactly what he wants by certain cries. I'm still trying to learn all of that."

The CSI shrugged and speared a piece of steamed broccoli with his fork. "I come around a little more then you do," he reasoned. "No fault of yours. Your life is just a little more full then mine. Things with you and Gus are really picking up with planning for a wedding. Erica and I barely see each other with the hours she works. So I spend all my spare time here."

"Do you ever see yourself having kids?" inquired Adam. "Like I watch you with Kieran and things go so smoothly for you that I can't help but think what a great dad you'll make when, and if, you have your own."

"You really think I'd make a great dad?" Danny asked, touched by the younger man's vote of confidence.

"Absolutely," Adam told him. "You're amazing with Kieran. A natural. And he responds so well to you. Almost as well as he does with his own father."

Danny chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far. Flack's doing an incredible job with his son. Far better then I expected him too, to be honest. Now there's a guy I never, ever expected to become a father. Or a husband for that matter."

"You and Don have known each other a long time," Adam commented. "So you probably know more about him then anyone else."

"Probably," Danny agreed. "Although I think your sister is right up there with me. I don't think there's much that he keeps from her. If anything. But in all the years I've known Flack, I'd never heard of him talk about marriage and kids. We were always too busy looking for Mrs Right Now, not Mrs Right. And then your sister came along, and BOOM. That was it for him. She just took him by complete surprise. Transformed his whole life."

"Hopefully that's a good thing," Adam said with a small laugh.

"You kidding me? That's an amazing thing. Hell of a feat. She turned him into a man. Plain and simple. She smacked some sense into him and forced him to grow up and hold himself accountable for his actions and his decisions. Made him give his own head a shake and realize what he really wanted out of life. And trust me Adam, he loves your sister. Wholly and completely and unconditionally. There's no one else but here. You've got nothing to worry about. He's not out to hurt her or screw her over. This is forever. So you can go easy with that protective brother stuff now."

Adam grinned sheepishly. "I thought I was doing a lot better hiding it then that."

"You're a little better with it. But it's still there. And I think it's time you realized that your sister and Flack? They're crazy in love with each other. And they're happy. They're also husband and wife. And it's to him, as a husband, to take care of her now."

"In other words I need to back off and hand over the reigns," Adam concluded.

"You said it," Danny told him and took a sip of his pop. "Look, I know she's your sister. She will always be your sister. And you guys survived some harsh times together. But she's a grown woman now. With a baby and a husband. A husband that would stop at nothing to take care of her and give her everything she wants and needs. He'd die for her. So you don't need to take care of her anymore. She's got someone else to do it."

Adam nodded slowly as he considered the other man's words. "Maybe I can't let that part of me go," he said quietly. "Maybe I like to feel needed. That she needs me. That K needs me."

"Of course they need you, Adam. You're her brother. You're K's uncle. They will always need you. But Flack's the one she goes to now when she needs something or someone. And you need to deal with that a little bit better then you have been, buddy."

"You've been talking to Flack," the lab tech sighed.

"We've been talking a bit," Danny admitted. "About these issues that you two seem to be having. I thought after that heart to heart you two had the night before the wedding, things would be cool between you."

"They are," Adam said. "They are cool. I just…I have a hard time with my sister being with someone."

"He's not just someone," Danny told him. "He's husband. The father of her son. He's far surpassed just being some guy in her life. And when he comes to me and tells me he doesn't exactly feel welcome around you…"

"I don't like the way he talks to her sometime," Adam admitted. "I just…he shouldn't be talking to her that way."

"I know that Flack isn't perfect. I know he can be a little smart with his mouth and aggressive with her," Danny said. "But with all due respect, your sister gives as good as she gets. It's not right how they talk to each other. It goes both ways. But you know what? That's not our business. It's how they handle things. They get smart with each other and they argue. Not like it's a constant thing. It was a lot worse before. A lot. And they went to that therapist and worked on some things. They talk things out more now instead of just jumping into a fight. And you need to sit back and keep out of it when they're having it out. Because that's between them and it has no bearing on you."

"She's my sister," Adam argued.

"And she's Flack's wife and the mother of his son. And I'm sorry that that takes precedence over her being your sister. She's an adult Adam. With an adult relationship and adult problems. You need to step off and mind your own, okay? I'm only getting on you about this 'cause I care. 'Cause you're a damn good brother and an amazing friend to not just Flack, but to me, too. And as your friend, I'm giving you some advice here. Let your sister live her life. Let her be a wife and a mother. Stay in the background. Think you can do that for me?"

"I can try," Adam said with a heavy sigh. "It's hard. Because we've always had to look out for each other, you know? And I'm always worried she's going to get hurt. And I couldn't live with myself if I just sat back and let that happen."

"He's not going to hurt her," Danny assured the younger man. "Flack's not out to hurt her. He's out to have a future with her. And you have to give them the space to let that happen."

Adam nodded.

"And trust me, if he ever hurt her, I would beat his ass from one end of the city to the other. There's a whole line up of people who would fuck him up if he ever did anything wrong to her."

"I think he had a thing with Carmen," Adam blurted out.

Danny looked sideways at the man beside him, pop can poised in mid air. "You know?"

"I didn't want to say anything to anyone because I don't know for sure. I just suspect that it happened."

"When?" Danny asked.

"Shortly before she moved out. Sammie had to take K for that check up when he got that little bit of a cough. And I was at the lab and I saw Flack and Carmen leaving together when their shifts were over. And Sammie called me about an hour later asking me if I could find a way to get over here and pick up K's insurance papers because she forgot them. She said that she'd been trying to call Don but there was no answer on his cell or at the apartment. So I came over here and let myself in with the spare key she gave me. And I totally caught Flack by surprise."

"Doing what?" Danny asked, trying to keep all speculations and accusations to himself.

"Well he wasn't really doing anything. But he'd just gotten out of the shower. His hair was wet and he had on sweats and a t-shirt…"

"Guy had just finished a shift," Danny reasoned. "Normal to clean yourself up afterwards."

"I know. But it wasn't just that. He was totally floored to see me. And he was carrying a basket of laundry."

"So? So what? He does do laundry."

"Bed sheets," Adam said. "I mean, it doesn't take an Einstein to figure that out, right? Took a shower, is getting ready to wash the bed sheets in the middle of the afternoon. And to add insult to injury…"

"There's more?" Danny asked.

Adam nodded. "Carmen came out of the bathroom…"

"Which one? Little one or the one in the bedroom?"

"She came out of the bedroom, having just taken a shower. Wrapped in a towel."

Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly and shook his head.

"Shortly after that, she moved out. Found that apartment over night and…"

"Boom," Danny finished. Trying his best to keep his fury in check. "We never talked about this Adam. Okay? We never had this conversation, alright?"

"But that's my sister, Danny! She's my sister and I…"

"I will take care of it, okay? I will talk to Flack and find out what the fuck went down. Don't worry yourself with this, a'right? Let me take care of it."

"But…"

"Let me take care of it," Danny repeated forcefully.

Adam simply nodded and sipped his pop. "I'm sorry," he said after a long silence.

"What are you sorry about?" Danny asked. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I never should have told you that," the lab tech replied. "I should have just kept it to myself. I don't know for sure that anything happened between them. I only know what I saw and that can be interpreted many different ways and I.."

"I will take care of it," Danny said. Dismissively.

Adam sighed heavily and stared down at the plate of food in his lap. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," Danny replied. "But promise me, I will take care of it."

_And royally kick someone's ass, _he thought.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers. But please, please, please review folks! Your support means the world to me!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall**

**Laplandgurl**

**much madness**

**Soccer-bitch**

**Forest Angel**

**New-york-babeee**


	109. Reaching out, holding on

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK**

**SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG GUYS! THIS IS A FUTURE CHAPTER! ENJOY!**

* * *

**Reaching out, holding on**

"I came by today to see you  
I just had to let you know  
If I knew the last time that I held you was the last time  
I'd have held you, and never let go

Oh, it's kept me awake nights, wondering  
I lie in the dark, just asking why  
I've always been told  
You won't be called home  
Until it's your time

I guess heaven was needing a hero  
Somebody just like you  
Brave enough to stand up  
For what you believe  
And follow it through  
When I try to make it make sense in my mind  
The only conclusion I come to  
Is heaven was needing a hero  
Like you

I remember the last time I saw you  
Oh, you held your head up proud  
I laughed inside  
When I saw how you were standing out in the crowd  
You're such a part of who I am  
Now that part will just be void  
No matter how much I need you now  
Heaven needed you more ."  
-Heaven Was Needing a Hero, Jo Dee Messina

* * *

Two and a half months following his wife's tragic and well publicized death, Lieutenant Don Flack had fallen back into somewhat of a predictable schedule. The Chief of Police had given him a more lenient schedule. Straight nine to five, Monday to Friday, and every second weekend. The hours were less, and Flack was grateful for that. He'd been spending all of his free time -it was somewhat bittersweet to even have free time, considering when he had someone to spend it with, he never got any at all it seemed- with his kids. Taking them places, getting involved in their organized sports, helping out with homework. He attended meet the teacher conferences and school plays. Took his children to the movies and to Far Rockaway beach and Coney Island on the weekends he had off. He kept their schedules, as well as his own, as full as he possibly could.

Over compensating for their loss maybe. He knew how much they missed their mother. He heard the boys cry themselves to sleep at night. Woke up almost every morning with them snuggled in beside him in bed. He noticed how Mikayla looked around the house for her mother, asking for mama in that little, angelic voice of hers. He dealt with his boys' temper tantrums and their violent outbursts. He held them tightly and rocked them back and forth as they ranted and raved to the world about how much they loved and missed their mom and wanted her back. He kissed away tears and mended skinned knees and put money under their pillows for each tooth they lost. He prepared lunches and packed them for school. He made meals and cleaned the house and tended to chores. He bathed the baby and read bedtime stories and sat at his children's bedsides and stroked their hair and watched them as they fell asleep.

And he cried.

A lot.

The wounds were not healing. They seemed as raw and painful as the day he'd walked out of the hospital a widower. He tried to dwell on the happier times. The wonderful memories that he and Sam had shared throughout their marriage. The love and the laughter that they had experienced together. He rarely thought of the hard, difficult things that they had survived together. Because when he had sat and thought about it, he realized that his life had been amazing. He'd met an incredible, vivacious and beautiful woman whom he'd love more then he'd ever thought it was possible to love another human being. Who had given him a family. Four adorable kids that his entire world revolved around.

Sure, when things had been bad, they had been really, really, really bad. It had nearly destroyed him to find out that she had cheated on him, and that the twin boys she'd given birth to were in fact, not his. But the love he had for her had seen them through. It had taken a long time to forgive, but it had happened. He had taken back his wife and accepted those boys as his own and had never looked back.

His life, he had realized, had been pretty damn incredible with Samantha Ross in it. The grief was unbearable some days. He still couldn't look at her picture without tearing up. Yet he couldn't bring himself to put photos of her away. Especially the one that sat on his desk. It broke his heart when he dressed for work every morning and saw her belongings hanging in the closet. Yet he didn't have the courage to throw anything out.

He missed her, and loved her, with every fibre of his being.

Scrawling his signature on yet another DD-5 report, Flack sighed heavily and dropped the completed forms onto a small stack of paperwork he'd already completed. A monstrous stack of unfinished business still awaited him. Arrest reports to pour through and sign off on, case files that needed to be double checked for accuracy and employee evaluations that needed to be completed. A schedule to finish up and requests for time off to go through. The work never seemed to end. There was always someone parading into his office with another stack of papers or a problem to discuss. He'd been back at work for a month and a half, and it seemed as if he was still catching up from things that had fallen by the wayside while he was off.

Flack didn't want to be there. His heart and his soul just wasn't in it anymore. The passion he'd once felt for his job and the people he worked with had long dissipated. He'd lost faith in the system and in the law the moment his wife had walked into a crime scene and never walked back out. He no longer enjoyed going to work or serving the city. He used the job solely as a distraction. Being on the clock meant his mind was focused on something else other then the tremendous loss he and his children had suffered. Yet there were always things that brought Samantha to the front of his mind. Shared friends that stopped by to offer their condolences and ask about the kids. The flowers and cards of sympathy that still trickled into his office on a near daily basis. The whisperings he heard in the hallways. People wondering how he was coping. Speculating on when, and if, someone was going to be caught for his wife's murder.

He'd long ago given up all hope and faith in regards to the crime lab and the FBI. Now that the death of Samantha Flack had seized to be front page news, neither the lab or the Feds were busting their asses to find out who was responsible for her shooting. No one had come right out and said it to his face, but Flack knew that the case had long been shoved to the bottom of the pile. Other things had happened that the department felt were more of a priority. And he also knew that it was only a matter of time, that someone came to him and announced that Samantha's death was a cold case.

Which was exactly why he was hell bent on taking care of the matter himself. He was personally going to hunt down the sonofabitch responsible if it was the last thing he did. And what he'd actually do once he got his hands on her killer was still up in the air. His brain told him to do the right thing and turn them in. His heart told him to take care of the situation himself and put a bullet between the guy's eyes.

After slowly and methodically torturing him.

Scary thing was, Flack felt he was more then capable of carrying something like that out. His heart had been ripped out of his chest. He and his kids were suffering day in and day out. Someone had to pay and someone had to be put through the same amount of torment and pain.

Leaning back in his chair, he pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. He was tired. Exhausted in fact. Another near sleepless night of dealing with nightmares and bed wetting on both Daniel and Mackenzie's parts. It had been a modern miracle that he, and the kids, had been able to get out of bed that morning.

Slipping his glasses back down onto his face, Flack reached for the stainless steel travel mug of now lukewarm coffee and grimaced as he took a sip. It was his sixth cup that day and it had barely gotten past the lunch hour. He was starving and needed a cigarette desperately. Yet taking a break meant that he'd have to sit down. Without paper work in front of him. And that meant he'd have time to think. To dwell on the past.

And that was just too damn painful.

So instead of taking a half an hour to get some food into his system or heading out to get some fresh air, he pushed his chair away from his desk and stretched out his legs and put his hands behind his head. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and enjoyed the late July sunshine cascading into his office. Inside, the air conditioning was up as far as it could go. Outside, the temperatures soared into the low hundreds as New York City was immersed in it's hottest summer to date.

While he worked and his parents babysat Mikayla, the boys were in summer camp. The Y had agreed to take all three and keep them in the same group regardless of the difference in age between Kieran and the twins. Neither Daniel of Mackenzie wanted to be separated from their big brother, and Flack worried, at such an emotional, difficult time, that being away from each other would just damage his kids more. The camp leaders had agreed with him and the Flack boys were allowed to spend their eight hour day together. It was strictly a day camp, but at the end of each month, the children and their parents were invited to a weekend sleep over. The boys, and Flack for that matter, were looking forward to it.

* * *

A knock came to his closed office door, snapping him out of the comfortable lull he'd fallen into. Cracking an eye open just as the door opened slightly and a uniform poked his head into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt you, LT," the young officer said apologetically. "But you've got a visitor wantin' to see you."

"Who is it?" Flack asked.

"Guy says he's your brother in law. About five eleven, maybe 180, wavy brown hair and blue eyes? Some facial hair?"

Flack nodded in recognition. "Send him in," he said. "Anyone else comes looking for me, I'm in a closed door meeting, okay?"

"No problem, LT," the officer told him and closed the door as he departed.

It had been two and a half months since Don Flack and Adam Ross had spoken to each other. The last time that they'd been in each other's company save for the church funeral and graveside service, was the day Flack called Adam to the hospital to let his brother in law know about the difficult decision he'd made regarding Sam's care.

Three days before, a neurologist and Sam's primary physician had come to him saying things were looking up. That while there were signs of slight brain damage, the injuries to the heart and the surgery that had been done to repair it, seemed to be healing better than they expected. She showed slight responses to verbal stimuli and her cardiac rhythms were strong. The physicians were adamant that with a long rehabilitation and time spend in a nursing facility, she'd go home to her husband and her kids. That while she would need assistance in the daily care of herself and would need help learning basic skills, she would live. They were convinced, with a couple of extra weeks spent in a medically induced coma, that once the tubes were removed, she'd breathe on her own.

Flack had been ecstatic at the news. He had vowed that whatever she needed, whether he took care of her himself or hired someone to do it for him, that she'd come home. That one day she'd be close to the old Sam again. Even if that did take an excruciatingly long time. He didn't care if he had to feed her with a spoon and clean up her piss and shit. If he had to help her learn to read and write or walk again. None of that mattered. As long as she was alive and there with him and their kids, everything else would fall into place. He called everyone he knew to tell them the great news. He sobbed out of sheer relief that his wife was going to make it. He went home and told his kids that mommy was going to be okay. She was still very sick and would need to stay in the hospital for a long time, but one day she'd be back home, tucking them into bed and reading them bed time stories and kissing them and telling them she loved them.

It had never happened. The night before she was scheduled to be removed from the machines, she'd suffered a massive stroke that had rendered her brain dead. Flack had taken Hawkes with him to meet with the doctors. He had wanted someone with him that he not only trusted and respected, but who could explain to him, in laymen's terms, just what the prognosis was. The neurologist had simply looked at him and shook his head. And with that, Don Flack knew that he'd lost what mattered most to him. The one person that had loved him unconditionally. Who'd adored him and treasured him and transformed him.

He'd been given twenty four hours to make the hardest decision of his life. In reality, it had taken only a few minutes. Sam had long ago requested that he didn't let her live like that if something happened to her. That if she had no quality of life, no chance of recovery, that he let her go peacefully. He'd kept his plans to himself for an entire day, letting visitors come and go before finally pulling Adam aside and telling him what was going to happen.

Adam had lost it. There were no other words to describe his reaction. He had wanted his sister kept alive. He didn't care how it was done. Just as long as it was. He was convinced that the doctors were wrong. That she was going to wake up one day. That even if it took years, she was going to be as good as new again. He'd accused Flack of being cold hearted. Of simply just giving up and not giving her a chance.

Of being a murderer. No better then any of the monsters he'd dedicated his life to capturing.

Flack had held firm. He understood Adam's anger and frustration and heartbreak. He let the harsh words roll off of him like water. But nothing was going to change his mind. It was what Samantha wanted and he wasn't going to deny her that.

Adam vowed to never forgive him for killing his sister.

Those were the last words, along with threats of seeking out a lawyer, that Adam had ever spoken to his brother in law as he stormed out of the hospital.

Two and half months later, as Flack tidied his desk and set aside work, Adam Ross was being shown into his office.

Flack was taken back by the sight of his brother in law. The lab geek turned brilliant CSI was nearly a former shadow of himself. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight and his wrinkled clothes hung off of what was once a stocky frame. While his beard was neatly trimmed, his hair was wild and out of control. And his once lively, sparkling aquamarine eyes were dull and haunted. Sorrow and loss had taken a firm hold of Adam.

And it broke Flack's heart.

The door clicked closed and the two men were left alone. Flack still parked behind his desk and Adam fidgeting with the frayed hem of his t-shirt as he rocked back and forth on his heels. It was an awkward and uncomfortable moment. Neither knew what to say, or how to begin.

"Don…" the younger man finally managed.

Flack gave a small smile. "Adam…" he said in return.

"You…uh…you mind if I sit down?"

Flack gestured towards one of the empty chairs in front of his desk.

Adam gave a small nod of thanks and took a seat. He looked nervous and felt out of place despite the fact the man behind the desk was practically a brother to him. Flack had been his sister's husband. Her one true love in life. He was the father of Adam's nieces and nephews. Yet it felt as if he was sitting across from a complete stranger.

"How have you been?" Flack asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

"Okay," Adam lied as he gave a small shrug. "I mean, I've been better. But I could be worse too."

"You're not back at work yet?" the lieutenant asked.

Adam shook his head. "I'm on psych leave still," he replied. "The doctor doesn't know when I'll be able to come back. You know, 'cause of the depression and all."

Flack nodded in understanding.

"I know I look like shit," the CSI said abruptly. "That I need a haircut and I've lost a lot of weight. I just haven't care about stuff like that in the last two and a half months," he sighed heavily, then added. "I've stopped caring about a lot of things, actually."

"You and Gus doing okay?" Flack asked. "How come she's not on top of you with this? She should be getting you some help, buddy. Getting you on the proper meds and what not."

"Gus left a month ago," Adam told his brother in law. "She couldn't deal with me anymore. She wanted to help and I wouldn't let her and it just got to be too much. She said I was letting my grief for my sister destroy me. And that Sam wouldn't want that."

"She wouldn't," Flack said. He noticed how Adam's eyes continuously strayed down to his left hand. And exactly what it was that Adam was looking for. "But not letting it destroy is easier said then done. Trust me. Where's she staying?"

"Got her own place. I can't really afford the house all on my own, so depending what happens at the end of it all, most likely I'll just cough it all up to her. Move back into Manhattan. Find myself a little apartment. Like my single, lab tech days."

"Is that what you want?" Flack asked. "You want to be on your own?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know what I want anymore," he admitted. "All I know is that this has to get better right? All the pain inside? All the hatred and anger I have. It's going to go away eventually. Isn't it?"

His brother in law sighed heavily. "Honestly? I don't know. 'Cause I'm still waiting for all of that to go away myself."

The younger man nodded, his eyes flicking downwards once again.

"What are you doing?" Flack asked, unable to take the observations any longer.

"What?" Adam looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "What do you mean?"

"Since you sat down, you've been looking at my left hand," his brother in law said, annoyance and slight disgust creeping into his voice. "What are you looking for, Adam? Are you checking to see if my wedding ring is still there? Are you checking to see if I just took it off and moved on with my life?"

"No…I never…"

Flack laid his left hand, palm down on his desk. "There," he said, nodding down at the thick band gracing his finger. "Happy? Does it make you feel better seeing it with your own two eyes? Did you think I'd take it off just like that? Forget all about her?"

"Don…I never…"

"I think about your sister every second of every day," Flack angrily informed him. "There isn't a moment that I don't think about her, Adam. There isn't a moment that I don't miss her, that I don't want her back. So don't come in here thinking the complete opposite."

"I didn't mean anything by it," Adam assured him. "I just…I just wanted to see if it was still there. I wanted to make sure that you were…"

"That I was still loyal to your sister?" Flack finished. "That I was still grieving over her? Part of me died that day, Adam! And I'll never get that part of me back. When your sister died, a huge piece of me did too. But you know what? I go on because I have to. I go on because my kids need me. They lost their mother. I'm all they have left. And if I don't go on, who do they rely on? I love your sister. I will always love your sister. And this ring? It's staying on my hand until the day I die. Understand me?"

Adam nodded. "Don…I really didn't mean to…"

"You come in here after two and a half months accusing me of forgetting about her? Of not loving her or missing her? Is that why you're here? To make me feel even worse? As if losing my wife isn't bad enough, you have to come here, to my office, and tell me I don't care about her?"

"I never…"

"Why are you here, Adam?" Flack asked. "Why are you here? Why'd you come here? Make me feel like shit? Well trust me, I can't sink any goddamn lower then I already am. So if you're here to shit all over me, there's the fucking door."

"I came here to tell you that I'm sorry!" Adam cried, tears forming in his eyes. "I came here because I realized that you did the right thing! You made the best decision for Sammie. All you ever cared about was taking care of her! And the things I said to you that day were mean and uncalled for and I should have gotten up the balls way before now and come and apologized to you."

Flack stared at the younger man. Unable to respond.

"I talked to Hawkes," Adam continued. "He came to see me and he told me about that meeting with Sammie's doctors. He explained to me that she never, ever would have woken up. That the machines would have been the only things keeping her alive. That she'd never be a human being again. That the second that respirator was turned off, she would have died no matter what. And my sister never, ever would have wanted to live like that."

Flack swallowed noisily and looked away from his brother in law as he fought with his own emotions.

"You did the right thing, Don," Adam said. "The decision you made was the right one. And you did it out of love for her. And it must have killed you to have to do it."

"You have no idea what that felt like," Flack told him. "You have no idea what I went through, Adam. What I'm going through now."

"You loved her. You love her now. And you always took good care of her and good care of your kids. She loved her more then life itself. You were her everything. And she trusted you to make a decision. To take her life in your hands. And you did what you did for her. And I needed to come here today and tell you that. Because I miss you and my nieces and nephews. You guys are all I have left."

Flack cleared his throat noisily and took a swig of the old coffee.

"When Sammie died…" Adam took a deep breath to compose himself. "When she died, so did I. She was my sister. She was my best friend and my confidant. She was my protector. And when she got shot, I felt like I let her down in some way. Because we always watched out for each other. Always. And she walked into that warehouse that day and I let her down."

"You weren't even there," Flack reminded his brother in law.

"But if I had have been I would have been able to protect her!" Adam cried. "And no one was there to protect her! She was alone! She was alone and frightened and no one was there for her!"

"Stella was there," Flack said. "Sam wasn't alone."

"She was alone when it happened!" the younger man jumped to his feet and began pacing the office in agitation. " Stella let her go in there alone! She took a fucking phone call and let Sammie go in there alone! And look what happened, Don! Look what happened!"

"Adam," he spoke firmly and calmly. "I know it's easy to blame people, but…"

"I blame people because they deserve it!" Adam sobbed. "This never would have happened if Stella had have done her fucking job! If Stella had have been half the boss that Mac was, my sister would still be alive!"

"This was no one's fault," Flack said, his voice a near whisper.

"It was!" Adam screamed, picking the chair up and slamming it down into the floor. "It is someone's fault! My sister is dead because that fucking bitch didn't do her goddamn job!"

Flack shook his head adamantly. "I know it makes you feel better to blame Stella, Adam. I blamed her too. But blaming her isn't going to bring Sammie back. Nothing is going to bring her back. And you need to get a grip on this okay? I know it hurts. I know you're pissed off and it seems like a fucking nightmare, buddy. I feel that way too! But being this way isn't going to change what happened."

"Someone needs to pay!" tears of rage and immense grief spilled down Adam's face. "Someone did this to my sister and they need to pay, Don!"

"And they will, Adam," Flack assured him. Pushing his chair away from his desk and standing up, he approached his brother in law cautiously. "Trust me, they will! I'm going to find out who did this and they're going to pay for what they did. But you need to get a goddamn grip. Do you think your sister would want you to be this way?"

"My sister would do the same thing for me! She'd act the same way! She'd find whoever did this to me and kill them! She'd nail them to a fucking wall and you know it!"

"I do know it," Flack said, laying his hands on Adam's shoulders. The younger man's body trembling with insurmountable anger and sorrow. "But something like that? Catching guys like this? It doesn't happen overnight."

"It's been almost three months!" Adam argued. "Almost three months and nothing! No leads, no person of interest! Nothing! I thought that the FBI getting involved would be a good thing! But it's like whoever did this just vanished off the face of the earth! Why hasn't anyone found this guy?"

"Sometimes it takes longer then we think, or expect it to," Flack reasoned.

"And that's okay with you?" Adam asked. "That's okay with you that the guy who murdered your wife is out there somewhere?! That he's allowed to just walk around and get on with his life?"

"Of course it's not. But…"

"How can there be a but!" the younger man cried. "How can you think that it's okay that whoever did this is able to just go on with their lives, do every day things like a normal human being when your wife is dead! They're out there getting on with their life and my sister is never coming back! How can you think that's okay?!"

"I don't think it's okay, Adam. It's not okay and it's not fair. At all. But there's nothing I can do about it. I wish I could find the sonofabitch right now and put a bullet between his eyes. Your sister was my wife! My everything! And the thought that her killer is out there somewhere makes me sick to my stomach! But what do you want me to do? Tell me what it is you want me to do!"

"I want in on your plan to hunt down the Wilder gang," Adam blurted out.

Flack blinked. And releasing his grip on the younger man, took a step back. "How did you know about that?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes narrowed.

"Danny told me," Adam sniffled. "We went out a couple of nights ago and he was drunk and he told me that you guys were cooking up a plan to hunt down the Wilder gang. That you knew that they were responsible for Sam's death and that you were going to make them pay. I want in on that."

Flack shook his head. "You're talking crazy shit," he said.

"Danny wouldn't lie about that. He wouldn't make something like that up. Don't try and tell me that you don't have anything up your sleeve, Don."

"It's not that I don't," the Lieutenant said. "But when this goes down, when and if we start getting a hold of names of people, you're the last person I'd get involved in this."

"Why not?" Adam asked, a pleading quality to his voice. "I've already proved myself as a CSI. I know how to handle myself. I've been on tons of raids and mixed up in all kinds of dangerous situations and interrogations. I know how to take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that Adam. I know what kind of person you are and I trust you with my life. But there's no way I can let you in on this."

Disappointment clouded his eyes. "You don't think I can handle it?"

"It's not that. I know you can. It's just that…"

"Samantha was my sister!" Adam cried.

"Which is exactly why I can't let you in on it," Flack regretfully told the younger man. "She was your sister. And she loved you, Adam. And she wouldn't want you getting caught up in something like this. Whether it's avenging her death or not. There's no way she'd want you getting yourself killed because of her. And if I was to let that happen? If I was to bring you in and something happened to her? She'd never forgive me."

"Well she's not here to hold it against you, is she," Adam snorted.

"There's no way that you're getting involved," Flack informed him. "I can't let you do that."

"And what if I find them myself and take care of it on my own?" the CSI challenged.

"Don't go doing anything stupid, Adam. Let Danny and Scagnetti and I take care of this. Forget that you ever heard about it. Walk out of here none the wiser, okay? Let the three of us handle this."

Adam gave a rueful laugh. "Like the lab handled it?" he asked. "Like the Feds handled it?"

Flack sighed and leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "You never heard about this, understand me?"

The younger man shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you'd actually stop me from helping find whoever did this to my sister."

"It's for your sister that I'm telling you to walk out of here and forget you ever heard a goddamn thing about it," Flack said.

Adam held his hands up in surrender and slowly back up towards the door. "Would it make a difference if I found some names?" he asked. "If I was to bring you some names, some legitimate leads, would you let me in then?"

"Don't get involved Adam," Flack warned. "Don't step into something that's way over your head."

"If I was to come here in a few days and give you a list of names and places? Would you not accept that and my offer to help out?"

Flack shook his head.

"Well then I guess it's all up to me to get it all done then," Adam said.

"Don't do it Adam. Your sister wouldn't want you to be involved in shit like this."

"And she wouldn't want her death to be in vain, either," the younger man concluded, before turning and opening the office door and stepping out into the busy precinct.

Sighing heavily, Flack pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbed at his weary eyes.

And prayed to God that Adam wouldn't end up the next Ross in a body bag.

* * *

The harsh July sun beat down on the smooth granite stone that marked her final resting place. The mounds of dirt that had once sat graveside had long been shovelled back into earth. Fresh sod had been laid down; the vibrant green blades of grass sparkling in the sun and being softly tousled by the breeze that cut through the stifling humidity.

While birds chirped in the surrounding trees and the fountain bubbled noisily and cars passed noisily on the street several hundred yards behind him, Don Flack was oblivious to everything outside of the pounding of his heart and the task that lay ahead of him. A bouquet of fresh flowers - a stunning, massive mix of lilies, roses and carnations in orange, yellow and white- clutched in one hand and an assortment of letters from his children in the other, as he stood before his wife's grave. The sleeves of his white uniform shirt rolled to his elbows as sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his back. Sunglasses covering his eyes in an attempt to protect them from the suns rays, and to hide the threatening tears.

He hadn't visited the cemetery since his wife's interment. He used the excuse of too much to do, not enough time for his reasoning of staying away when in fact, going there was just too damn painful. It broke his heart to see her name etched on the smooth stone. To know that she was never, ever coming back. That this was where she had to stay, and no matter how hard he prayed and begged and pleaded, she couldn't leave with him when he turned his back and headed home.

He was weak. Losing what had mattered most to him had broken him. He only hoped that with time, he'd get some of his strength, and his sanity, back. That one day it wouldn't hurt so bad. That he'd smile when he recalled a fond memory or when he saw her picture. That he wouldn't feel so damn guilty about finding another woman attractive while walking down the street. That he wouldn't feel as if he was betraying her by smiling or tossing a compliment at a pretty woman. He knew, deep down, that he'd never move on. That he'd never remarry. Because there was no one that could ever take her place in his heart or in his life. The love he felt for her could never be duplicated. And it was unfair to any woman to have to compete with a ghost.

He stood for what seemed like an eternity. Staring down at that name and those dates inscribed on the headstone. Tears burned his eyes and emotion choked him. There were so many things to say, yet no words seemed adequate enough. Eventually, he cleared his throat noisily and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his dress shirt and ran his tongue over his parched lips.

"Hey, baby," he said finally, fighting to control the tremble in his voice. "I know I haven't come around before now and you're probably pissed off about that. But I just haven't been able to…" he sighed. "I haven't been able to get up the balls to do it. I've been scared to come here to see you. I hope you can understand that. I hope you can forgive me if you've been getting a little lonely. You know that I think about you right? All the time. There's never a time that you're not on my mind. You know that, right Sammie?"

The wind rustled in the trees. The bird continued to chirp. Life went on outside of that cemetery.

"I brought you these," Flack said, as he bent down and placed the flowers at the bottom of the headstone. "I know you're always going on about how I'm not romantic enough. So I figured I was due for doing something nice for you. And the kids wrote you some letters," he held them up for her to 'see'. "I even helped Mikayla colour some pictures and print her name on the bottom. Daniel made me put everything in separate envelopes and seal them. I wasn't allowed to read them. That was totally forbidden. The boys said it was just between you and them. So I'll just leave these here and you can look at them when you're ready, okay?"

Sniffling noisily, he leaned over and arranged the envelopes neatly in the grass.

"So things are going pretty good, I guess," he said, straightening up and letting out a huge sigh. "Things are going okay. The boys are in summer camp. At the Y in downtown Flushing. They wanted to go to football camp but by the time I got around to signing them up, there was no spots left. I told them I'd make it up to them by enrolling them in hockey school this winter. Don't know how Daniel's going to manage considering how small he is. Something tells me he's going to kick some major ass. It's always the tiny ones you gotta watch out for. And with you as his mother, he's bound to be a tough little shit. Kieran and Mackenzie had some trouble at school for a bit, but they turned it around at the end of the year. They were just having a hard time coping with losing you. I mean, they still are. We're dealing with the whole temper tantrum, wetting the bed stuff. But I took them to one of them child shrinks and he said that it's just par for the course. That they're just hurting really bad and don't know how to deal with their emotions any way else. So I'm hoping that things settle down for them soon."

Flack cleared his throat and reached under his sunglasses to clear the tears away.

"We went to Coney Island not too long ago. Went on all the rides that you and the boys used to love so much. Ate hotdogs and candy apples and all kinds of other crap until our stomachs hurt. Brought home more of those prize tacky stuffed animals then I know what to do with. We had a great time. First time in a long time I actually laughed. The kids just have that way about them, you know? The way they scrap it out and the things that come out of their mouths. They make it a little easier on me to deal with things. Although getting them to eat vegetables and take baths is still an ordeal. Woke up the other day to Daniel jumping on the bed. Kid had this huge chunk of hair missing down the middle of his head. He thought it was a cool idea to get out my clippers and shave his head. Guess all the hair clogged the thing and he gave up halfway through. Needless to say, I had to take him to the hairdresser's and fix up that little disaster."

He gave a small laugh and shook his head.

"You know," he continued. "Some times I actually forget that I'm dealing with all of this on my own. I forget just for a second that you're not coming back and then it hits me and I…" his voice caught in his throat. "I miss you so much. I'm trying so hard. I'm trying to do this and I don't know if I can, babe. I don't know if I'm strong enough. 'Cause it hurts so bad. And I know you're probably wanting to kick my ass for doubting myself, and I know it probably bugs you to see me cry, but I just want you back. Sammie. I just want this whole nightmare to be over. I just want you to come walking through the front door. Like none of this ever happened. I even had this crazy assed dream a while back. I walked into the kitchen and there you were. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe you really were there. Telling me that everything was going to be okay. That's what I want to believe anyway. 'Cause it felt so real. I could feel you. Smell you. It was like you were right there, you know?"

Taking a deep breath, Flack let it out slowly.

"I miss you and I love you," he whispered. "I need your help, Sammie. I need you to get me through this. I need you to point me in the right direction. Not just with the kids but with this whole Wilder thing. You're the only one who knows who this guy was and you can't tell us so we can find him. So I need you to at least find a way to lead me towards the right path. I don't know how, I just know that I need you. You're the only one that can help me. Please help, me Samantha. Please."

The sound of car tires crunching on the gravel road behind him captured Flack's attention. Tearing his eyes away from his wife's grave, he frowned at the sight of the department issued unmarked squad car. Easily making out the identity of the large, strong man behind the wheel.

"Look babe," he said, turning back to his wife and laying a hand on top of the granite stone. "I gotta go. I promise I'll be back soon. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I just couldn't…I just couldn't be here, you know? But if you ever need anything, you know where to find me, okay? I love you," placing his fingertips to his lips, he traced over each letter of her name. "I love you so much and I miss you. Every day."

Sighing heavily, he laid his hand on top of the stone once more and gathered his composure before turning and heading towards the idling car. Tossing open the front passenger door, he climbed into the air conditioned vehicle and shut the door.

"What are you doing here?" he asked his friend.

"I needed to talk to you," Scagnetti replied. "And I didn't want to do it with a lot of people around."

"How'd you know I was even here?" Flack inquired.

"Put a trace on your cell phone when you wouldn't answer," the big detective told him.

"I had it on silent," Flack said. "I didn't want to be disturbed. I had…" he glanced out the window at his wife's grave site. "…some things I needed to say."

Scagnetti nodded in sombre understanding.

"What's up, Tony?" Flack asked.

"I got some names. And addresses," he replied, reaching into the pocket on the breast of his dress shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Associates and relatives of the Wilder gang."

Flack's eyes widened as he took the piece of paper and opened it. "You just came up with these today?" he asked.

"Been in the works for a while now. I went with some outside help. CI's that owed me big time. They were my eyes and ears. Got me everything you see there."

"This is awesome, Tony," Flack praised. "Guess the next step is to get a plan in gear. Figure out who to hit first, what questions to ask."

"What asses to kick," Scagnetti snorted. "Those bastards are going to pay, Flack. Pay huge."

"They deserve to," the lieutenant declared. "This is great. Thanks. I was starting to wonder if we'd ever come up with anything."

"There's more," Scagnetti told his old friend, as Flack reached for the handle on the door.

"How much more?" Flack asked.

"A delivery came for you just as I was heading out," the big man replied, and leaning forward, snatched a manila envelope from it's resting place on the dashboard. "Someone dropped this off with the duty captain."

"What is it?" Flack asked, accepting the package.

Scagnetti shrugged.

The younger man tore into the envelope and peered inside. Frowning at the sight of what appeared to be several coloured photographs. Dumping them into his lap, the sight of the first one nearly knocked the wind out of him. It was a crime scene photo. Taken in the warehouse where his wife had been violently gunned down. His eyes widened and his heart pounded in his chest as he picked the pictures up and flipped through them. Tears filling in eyes and nausea threatening as he was taken back by the sight of not only the crime scene, but of his wife's dead and lifeless body on the ME's table, and very detailed and gruesome autopsy photos.

"Flack, you okay?" Scagnetti asked, noticing the trembling of his friend's hands. "What is it?"

The younger man held up one of the autopsy photos.

"Jesus Christ…" the big man whispered, his face going white. "What the hell…How? How would someone get a hold of stuff like that?"

Flack shook his head and closed his eyes.

"What are you thinking, Don?" Scagnetti asked. "Tell me what you're thinking."

He struggled to compose himself, then opened his eyes.

"I think someone on the inside is involved," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "That someone I know and trusted killed my wife."

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I know it's been a while, but I really hope you guys will review this! Lots of love to all of you!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall**

**Laplandgurl**

**muchmadness**

**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

**Soccer-bitch**

**TwinkeyRocks**

**Delko's Girl 88**

**Forest Angel**

**Kassandra J**

**MonzaBird**

**Madison Bellows**

**Bluehaven4220**


	110. An unwelcome Angell's touch

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS.**

**A/N: PLEASE CHECK OUT MADISON BELLOWS' FALLING DOWN. AN AMAZING ONE SHOT SHE BASED ON THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER OF THIS STORY. IT IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!**

**HUGE THANKS TO LAURZZ FOR SENDING ME THIS AMAZING SONG!**

* * *

**An unwelcome Angell's touch**

"If it's okay I'll leave the bed light on  
And place your water glass where it belongs  
And if alright I'll lie awake at night  
Pretending I am curled up at your side  
See I'm circling these patterns  
Living out of memories  
I'm still a long way from accepting it  
That there's just no you and me  
But if I still believe you love me  
Maybe I'll survive  
So I tell myself you're coming home  
Like you've done a million times  
And if it's alright I'll still be loving you  
'cause I can't break it to my heart."  
-I Can't Break it to My Heart, Delta Goodrem

* * *

It was quarter to seven in the evening when Jessica Angell, carrying large plastic shopping bag holding three brown paper bags containing Chinese take out, found herself climbing the front steps of the Flack's modest, well kept home in Flushing, Queens. As she stepped onto the front porch, she noticed that the wooden door behind the screen one was wide open, enabling the sounds of life to trickle outside. A radio playing, Flack's familiar deep, assertive voice, Mikayla's ear piercing shrieks mixed in with the boys' laughter and incessant chatter. The family was getting on with their lives. The best they possibly could. Angell knew that it would be a slow and painful process. Accepting and then attempting to get over the death of a loved one was never an easy thing.

There was no set time limit on grief. No clock that dictated when you had to stop feeling sorry for yourself or when crying ceased to be appropriate. Flack had lost his wife. His soul mate. Part of him would never be the same. Anyone who knew him and loved him knew that he was struggling. That underneath those piercing blue eyes and that tough guy exterior, he was barely holding it together. His children had lost their mother. The person who'd carried them for nine months and nurtured them and played both mommy and daddy when their father all too often put work above family.

Angell had lost a friend two and a half months ago. Once their differences had been put aside the afternoon of Sam and Flack's wedding, she and Sam had forged a tight, impenetrable friendship. They spent time talking on the phone or simply hanging out. They went shopping and out to dinner on their weekly girls night out. Angell became an aunt to Kieran and all of the kids that followed. She spent holidays and birthdays at the house and became a permanent fixture in all of their lives.

When Samantha Flack had been died, Jessica Angell had lost a piece of herself. A friend that had always been loyal and true. Who'd always been the one to offer you a shoulder to cry on or a sympathetic ear. Dishing out well meaning, truthful advice whether you wanted to hear it or not. Making you laugh on these long, dark days when there didn't seem to be anything to laugh about. Working cases with her had been one of the highlights of the job for Angell. It was always an experience it seemed when they were out in the field together. Perps didn't take them seriously when they were a team. All the bad guys saw were two women -pretty and petite and definitely not intimidating looking- and assumed that the detectives were pushovers. That they couldn't possibly handle their own.

And those perps always were treated to a rude awakening at the end of the day. Shocked as hell when those two small, seemingly defenceless and weak women were able to drop 'em and cuff 'em. Sam's reasoning for being so tough for such a tiny thing? You try having three boys at home and having to wrestle with them to get their clothes and shoes on. Angell knew it went farther then that. Self defence courses and kick boxing and a husband that made damn well sure, as a woman often alone at night in New York City, that she knew how to stick up for herself and kick ass with the best of them. The perps never knew what hit them when that feisty little Brooklyn girl laid into them. Especially verbally. One moment she was sweet as pie, girl next door, the next she was cunning and full of vehemence.

Angell recalled, as she journeyed up the front steps, a drug dealer wanted for torturing and then killing a client who'd been repeatedly short on cash. He'd seen the two of them coming and gave a sly smirk and proceeded to bolt down East 118th street. Angell and Sam had taken off on a six block chase, only to trick him up by sneaking through a bodega and out the back door, nearly smashing his face with the metal fire door when he 'accidentally' ran into it as they came out. Afterwards, as the three of them had sat in interrogation, he'd looked at them, busted nose and missing teeth and all, and told Angell that she and her sister were "damn fine."

Angell had returned the smirk and flipped her hair over her shoulder and announced. "She's not my sister, she's my girlfriend."

His eyes had gone wide and he'd broken out into a massive toothless grin and declared, "Well that's even hotter."

It had taken all their will power to not burst into laughter right there and then. And it had been a hell of a feat to get through the interrogation with a straight face. But the moment they were out the door, the two women had looked at one another, arched their eyebrows and promptly dissolved into laughter. To the point they collapsed into one another and nearly ended up in a pile on the squad room floor.

Of course, every cop in the place, including an amused and slightly confused Flack at his desk, had stared at them as if they'd gone completely insane. And after they'd managed to compose themselves -it had taken damn near fifteen minutes and Sam had been left with a nasty case of the hiccups- they'd wiped tears from their cheeks and straightened their clothes and headed to Angell's desk to finish up some business with their heads held eye.

And as they'd passed Flack's desk, Sam had laid a hand on her husband's shoulder and said to her friend, in a voice loud enough for Flack to hear:

"My husband will love to hear we have girl crushes on each other."

The look on Flack's face had been so priceless that they'd been overcome with laughter once again and had barely made it to Angell's desk, where'd they'd plopped down into their respective chairs and took some time to gather themselves.

And when the laughter had stopped, they'd looked at each other and smiled. And Samantha Flack had said four simple words to her, that had warmed Angell's heart then, but brought tears to her eyes now.

"I'm glad we're friends."

Angell hadn't responded. But as she stepped up onto the front porch with a lump of emotion threatening to choke her and tears burning her eyes, she realized that she was damn glad that they were friends as well. And it hurt like hell to think that wounded pride and jealousy over a man had caused so much turmoil and heart ache between them. That they hadn't been mature enough to set their differences aside and attempt a friendship. They'd fought instead of practicing in the art of forgiving.

Jessica Angell would always regret that.

* * *

She brushed her tears away on the sleeve of her simple white cotton blouse and swallowed noisily, then reached out to pull open the screen door.

"Hello?!" she called out as she stepped into the small front foyer.

"Auntie Jessie!" Daniel's little voice called out from kitchen at the back of the house, and was soon followed by the pounding of feet across hardwood floors and down the stairs. "Auntie Jessie's here!"

The Flack kids were the only people -little or big outside of her father- that called her Jessie. Many people had attempted the nickname, and they'd all failed miserably. But there was something so adorable and innocent with the way it sounded coming out of a child's mouth that she couldn't possibly chastise them or correct them.

"Auntie Jessie!" Daniel cried, as he skidded into the foyer, sliding easily on the tiles in his socks.

She greeted him with an extra long hug and a huge kiss. Her heart ached for him and his brothers and sisters. The loss of their mother was a massive blow to them. They were old enough -the boys at least- to know that their mom was never coming back. And they were also old enough to have formed thousands of warm and loving memories of her. Mikayla however was just a baby. And it tore Angell up to think that that precious little girl, with her black curls and her huge blue eyes and her dimply smile and musical giggle, would never remember the woman that had brought her into the world.

"How are you?" she asked her 'nephew' running a hand over his brush cut before crouching down to his level. "Did you have a good day at camp?"

Daniel, his chin to his chest, shook his head.

"I thought you were having fun there?" she said, laying the plastic grocery bag on the floor and placing her hands on the child's slender shoulders. "What happened?"

Daniel looked up, a pout on his face and tears in his dark eyes. "I got in trouble," he reluctantly admitted.

Angell didn't respond at first. Too taken back by the child's appearance. More specifically the fact Daniel had no eyebrows. "Who did you get in trouble by?" she asked.

"The sue-pee," he replied, using the slang for supervisor. "And then they called daddy and I got in trouble by daddy too."

"Tell Auntie Jessie why you got in trouble," Flack said to his son, as he appeared in the doorway leading into the living room. Crossing his arms over his broad chest as he leaned against the wall, his eyebrows raised as he looked down at his child. Long changed out of his work uniform, he looked relaxed and comfortable in a pair of olive green cargo style shorts and a black golf shirt and his bare feet. And he also looked completely and utterly exhausted. Both physically and mentally.

Daniel sighed and looked down at the floor. "I bit someone," he whispered.

"Who was this someone?" Angell asked, hooking a finger under the boy's tiny chin and tilting his face upwards so he looked her in the eye.

"Robbie," Daniel replied. "He's an older kid. Same age as K. He was picking on me."

"Tell Auntie Jessie how he was picking on you," Flack encouraged.

Daniel gave another sigh. This time louder and longer. "He stole my drinking box and then he tried to steal my cookies so I bit him."

"You know that it's not nice to bite, right?" his aunt asked. "That your mommy and daddy don't like it when you do that?"

Daniel nodded. "I couldn't help it," he admitted. "I was sooo mad, Auntie Jessie."

"If he was picking on you, you should have told the sue-pee," Angell told him firmly. "You should have told them about it instead of handling things the way you did. What you did was wrong. You know that, Daniel."

"I know," he said in a tiny voice. "But when I get mad I can't help it. I do things when I'm mad. Things that are scary and I don't like."

"Why are you mad?" she asked.

Daniel shrugged.

"Well you must know," Angell said. "You must know why you're mad, honey."

"I just am," Daniel reasoned.

"You can tell Auntie and your daddy why you're so mad," she said, softly stroking his cheek. "Why don't you tell us why you're so mad, Danny."

She was the only person that ever called him Danny. Her term of affection for him.

"Tell me why you're so angry," she implored, their dark eyes locked on each other. "Go on…tell me."

Daniel shook his head.

Angell nodded hers.

The child sighed once again and looked up at his father and then back at his aunt. "I'm mad that mommy's not coming back," he whispered.

Angell glanced up and over at Flack as he cleared his throat noisily and looked away from his son. The pain and grief evident on his face.

She gave a small smile and ran a hand over Daniel's tiny face. "It's okay to be upset that mommy's gone," she assured him. "It's okay to be angry and sad and it's okay to cry. Because it's really sad that your mommy isn't here anymore. We're all sad about it. You know that, right? Your brothers are sad and your daddy's sad and your Uncle Adam is sad."

"Are you sad?" Daniel asked through his tears.

"I am very, very, very sad," Angell replied. "And mommy understands that we need time to be sad. And that it's going to take us all a long time not to be sad anymore. But you know what? Your mommy wouldn't want you to be so angry that you're hurting other kids. She'd want you to talk to daddy when you're feeling upset. Because daddy's pretty upset too and maybe the two of you can help each other not be upset anymore. Okay?"

"Okay," Daniel sniffled. "I can try to help, daddy."

"Good boy," Angell said, and laying a gentle hand on the back of his head, placed a kiss to his forehead. "Your mommy loved you so much. You know that right?"

He nodded. "I miss mommy," he said, his lower lip trembling.

"And I'm sure she misses you, too," Angell told him.

"I'll always love mommy," Daniel declared.

His aunt smiled. "I know you will, sweet pea. Do you think you could do me a favour?" she inquired. "A big boy favour?"

He nodded.

"Can you take this into the kitchen?" she asked, picking up the plastic bag and holding it out to him.

"And call your brothers and tell them that supper will be ready to go soon?" Flack tossed in.

"I can be a big boy," Daniel said, and taking the bag in two hands, carried it out of the foyer and disappeared into the living room. "KIERAN!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "MACKIE!!! SUPPER! HAUL ASS!"

"Daniel!" Flack snapped. "Watch it!"

"Sorry, daddy," he said sheepishly.

Flack watched his son go. Waiting until the little boy had journeyed into the kitchen before shaking his head and sighing heavily and turning to Angell. "They run the house," he complained. "I don't know how or when it happened, but this place is being run by pint sized tyrants."

"They're just going through a hell of a time," Angell reasoned as she stood up. "How are things like scheduled bedtimes and proper eating habits going?"

He snorted. "Let's just say that there's not much of a schedule around here. I'm trying. I try to get them fed at a proper time and into bed at a proper time. But by the time I get home and hear about their days and help them clean themselves up, it's way after seven. By the time I cook something, it's close to eight. Then they need some time to play around so they get tired. Then I have to bath them and get them into pyjamas and then I…" he closed his eyes briefly. "I'm really, really trying here, Jess."

She gave him a sympathetic smile and reached out to rub his arm affectionately. "You're doing a good job, Don. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. No one said this was going to be easy. And you're handling it better then most. Trust me."

"It's just…I don't know…Daniel is just…he's out of control. I don't know what to do with him, you know? I get the whole OCD and ADHD thing. I've been dealing with that for a long time now. But the way he is now? I can't cope. I just can't."

"A lot of kids bite, Don. As a form of aggression."

"He bit the kid to the bone, Jess. Right to the goddamn bone."

"Maybe he's a cannibal," Angell teased.

Flack frowned.

"Okay, so that wasn't at all funny. I'm sure that it's just a one time thing."

Flack shook his head. "It's not. It's a recurring thing. He got in trouble over it in school too. And he's always trying to take a chunk out of me and his brothers. And you think that's bad? He bites himself, Jess. When he gets angry. He literally latches down on his own arms. I've had to take him for tetanus shots and I've had to take him to the ER and get antibiotics because the bites have gotten infected."

"He's acting out because he doesn't know how to express how he's feeling," Angell reasoned. "You just heard him, Don. He's angry. Very angry. He's hurting so bad and he doesn't know how to talk about it. He misses him mom and loves her so much. And he needs to find a way to get all that anger out of him. In a productive way."

Flack sighed heavily and ran a hand over his weary face. "Goddamn that fucking bitch for leaving us," he muttered.

"Don't talk like that," Angell scolded him. "Don't blame Sam for this. Don't blame her for what happened. This wasn't her fault."

"I'm just so pissed off," he admitted. "I'm pissed off at her for doing this to the kids. For doing this to me. And then I get pissed off with myself for feeling that way. Because I love her so much and I miss her and I…" he bit his lip as he fought off emotion. "I want her back, Jess. So bad."

"I know," Angell said gently, rubbing his arm once more. "How are you holding up, Don?" she asked. Then interrupted him before the words could escape from his mouth. "And tell me the truth," she demanded.

He closed his mouth, contemplating his answer before responding. "Well let's put it this way, the four different meds I'm on for depression are barely working and I feel like I'm five seconds away from a mental breakdown."

Angell frowned. "Is there someone you can talk to? The priest from you parish? The department chaplain? Your family doctor?"

He rolled his eyes at each suggestion. "What are they going to tell me, Jess? That I'm crazy? That I'm unfit to take care of my kids? I lose those kids and I've lost everything. They're all I have left. I can't lose my kids."

"No one is going to say that about you, or try and take your kids away. You're wife just died. She was murdered. That's a hell of a blow. And anyone who thinks you don't have the right to grieve and be distraught doesn't know what it's like to love someone that much and lose them so unexpectedly."

"Tim Speedle wants to take the twins," Flack said in a low face, as footsteps overhead indicated Kieran and Mackenzie were on their way down.

Angell frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I get home today and there's a goddamn process server waiting on my porch," Flack fumed. "He hands me an envelope and gives that, 'you've been served' line. I wanted to punch him in the face. I mean, I had the kids with me. Why did he have to do that in front of my kids?"

"Because they have no morals. What was in the envelope?"

"A court order. For a DNA test."

Angell's eyes widened.

"No joke," Flack said. "I guess Speedle thinks he deserves a chance to play daddy. That he can just walk in here seven years later and take my kids. It's my name on their birth certificates. Sam was my wife. I accepted those babies as my own and I've done nothing but love them and their mother all this time. And he thinks he can just come here and take them from me?"

"Don…" Angell said patiently and softly. "I need to be completely honest with you."

"Don't stand here, in my house, and tell me you agree with him!" Flack hissed.

"I don't agree with him at all," Angell defended herself. "I think he's a prick for kicking you while you're down. What I wanted to say, was this…Has it ever occurred to you, Don, at any point in the last seven and a half years, that those boys are actually yours?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed.

"I mean have you ever stopped to consider that you're actually their father? You and Sam never had a DNA test. You don't know anything for sure and you…"

"You've seen them, Jess! The hair, the dark eyes! Both Mikki and Kieran have black hair and blue eyes. They look just like me. Daniel and Mackenzie look just like…"

"Their mother!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "They look just like their mother! They have her hair colour but Adam's texture. They have darker eyes than her, but maybe somewhere down the line in her family, a couple of relatives had dark brown eyes. They look just like her, Don! They've got her nose and her ears and her chin. They've got her freckles and her smile! They even have her laugh and her mannerisms! They're just like their mother!"

He sighed heavily.

"Has it never occurred to you that those boys might be yours? Or were you just so angry at Sam for cheating on you, that you being the father never seemed like a believable option?"

"I just never…"

"You just never forgave her long enough to consider it. You want to fight this? You want to give Speedle a big fuck you?"

"Of course I do. But…"

"But nothing," Angell almost snarled. "Listen to me. For once in your life, listen to me. You're going to fight this and I'm going to help you. Okay?"

He gave a small smile and nodded. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Well short of you going upstairs and grabbing a q-tip to spit on, I say that when I leave here tonight, you give me something that has your DNA and something with the kids' DNA. I'll take the samples to the lab and have them run. Discreetly. You trust me?"

"With my life," he replied sincerely.

"I won't let you down, Don," she vowed. "But you know what I want first?"

He shook his head.

"Some food," she said. "I'm starving."

"Sounds good," he agreed.

She gave a smile and linked her arm through his as they headed into the living room.

Allies.

* * *

"Daniel shaved his eyebrows off because he wanted them to match his head."

Angell was unable to contain the grin that spread from ear to ear at Flack's announcement. It was shortly before nine thirty at night as they sat on opposite ends of the sofa in the dimly lit living room. A glass of wine -her third- in her hand and a bottle of beer -his fifth- in his. The kids had long retired to bed. While Kieran and Mackenzie weren't the issues, Daniel was a hellion. He fought bath and bed time with every ounce of strength in the tiny body. And when it became painfully aware that his father was losing any shred of patience he had left, Angell had calmly suggested Flack take a break and had stepped in to finish the job.

It had been an ordeal. She'd fought with two hundred plus pound suspects in her career, and none of them were as tough and cagey as that little boy. In the end, there were many tears and a lot of yelling and threats to not bite or punch or kick or scratch, but Jessica Angell had prevailed. By the time his teeth had been brushed, Daniel Flack was exhausted from the nights activities and had to be carried to bed.

"Where did he get that idea?" she asked, sipping her wine.

Flack shrugged. "Who knows with that kid. The weirdest things go through his head sometimes. I leave him alone for ten minutes and he goes into the bathroom and I find him with a razor in his hand and his eyebrows missing. I mean, he could have seriously cut himself or something."

"Those things should be locked away where he can't get to them," she said. "Sam used to make sure…" she bit her lip, unsure if the mention of her friend's name in such a context would upset Flack.

"She never did stupid things like that," he said, swigging his beer. "She was the one that always made sure the place was baby proofed and all of that. Sometimes I think she used to go to the extremes. When she was pregnant with Kieran, I came home from work and she was sitting on the kitchen floor, washing the handles on the cupboards. She had taken a screwdriver and removed them all 'cause she felt the urge to disinfect the entire house."

Angell grinned. "She was a little eccentric at times," she said.

He gave a small smile and nodded.

"Have you heard from her mother at all?" Angell asked.

Flack shook his head. "Not since the day I called her to tell her that Sam had died. She never called about the funeral or even bothered showing up. She never even calls to see how the kids are doing. Once Sam and her had the falling out over the twins, things were never the same between them. And once her dad died, Sam didn't have a reason to call Arizona anymore. It's for the best. Her mom is just a mean old bitch. And I don't have the tolerance for that shit. Especially right now."

Angell nodded in understanding. "How about Adam?" she inquired.

"Adam came and saw me today," Flack replied. "We haven't talked since I took Sam off of life support."

"And how is he?"

"Horrible," Flack admitted. "He's lost tons of weight, obviously hasn't been sleeping properly or taking very good care of himself. I mean, I know I'm not exactly one to talk. I'm lucky if I get three hours a night and eat twice a day. Which for me is highly unusual. But she was my wife. I think I have the right to be more than a little fucked up."

"And she was Adam's sister," Angell pointed out. "They'd been through hell and back together as kids. They had this incredible bond. It's no wonder he's as upset as he is."

"It goes far beyond being upset," Flack told her. "He's just…I can't even describe it. He's just not even Adam anymore. He's like this empty shell that was once Adam. And it killed me to see him like that. Did you know Gus left him?"

Angell nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of wine. "I heard some talk," she admitted.

"Where the hell have I been? I hadn't heard a thing about it before today."

"Don, your wife just died. You're dealing with your own grief and your own issues and trying to work and take care of four kids, it's no wonder you didn't pick up on it."

"I just wish there was something I could do for him," Flack sighed. "But how do I help someone else when I can barely help myself?"

Angell had no response for that. "What did he come to see you about?" she asked.

"He wanted to apologize for the things he said and the threats he made when I took Sammie off the machines. It took a lot of balls for him to do that. I definitely wasn't expecting it. And he wanted someone to rant and rave to about the lab's inability to find worthwhile leads on who murdered his sister."

Angell sighed. "It is hard to believe they haven't found at least a person of interest," she said.

"Ask me, someone around there is fucking with things," Flack told her. "In fact, I know that someone around there is fucking with things."

She arched an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I got a package delivered to me today. It was dropped off at the duty captain and then Scagnetti brought it to me while I was at the cemetery."

"What kind of package?" Angell asked.

He sighed heavily. "They were pictures. Crime scene photos and autopsy photos. Sam's crime scene and autopsy photos."

Her eyes widened. "Who in the hell would send you that?"

"Whoever killed my wife. Whoever killed Sammie is either working on the inside, or the person who murdered her has someone on the inside. Either way, someone I know and trust has something to do with it. That's the only one that those photos could get to me. If someone I know sent them."

"But who would do something like that, Don? Who would want to hurt you so bad? Who'd want to kill Sammie? No one had a problem with her, or you."

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "All I know is that someone close to me had something to do with my wife's death. Someone that has spent time in this home with me and Sammie and our kids. I don't know why they'd do this to me, or to her. I just know they did."

"And you're still convinced that it's the Wilder gang we're after," it was more a statement then a question.

Flack nodded. "Scagnetti's CI has heard some word on the street that it was the Wilder Gang that was behind it. He's got me all those names and addresses and we need to follow up on them. Kick down some doors, rattle a few cages. We just need to all get together to talk about it."

"I was able to get six Kevlar vests from my inside guy at ESU," Angell told him. "I didn't say who they were for or what they were going to be using them for, just that I needed them and would put them to good use. I'll bring them by the house tomorrow night sometime."

"Don't you have better things to do than hang around my place?" Flack asked teasingly. "How come you're not out with Brad or Brian or Ben or whatever the hell his name is? The stockbroker guy."

"Bryce," Angell told him. "His name is Bryce. Or was. Well it still is because he's alive and kicking somewhere. He's just not alive and kicking around me."

"You guys broke up?"

Angell nodded.

"How come? I thought things were going pretty good with you two. Last I heard from Sammie about it, she said that you guys were thinking about moving together. That you thought maybe he was the one."

"And how long ago was that?" Angell asked, an amused smirk on her face.

Flack thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Six or seven months ago?"

"Three months ago," Angell told him. "We broke up three months ago."

"Hmmm…" Flack said with a nod. "Sorry to hear about that. Sammie knew you guys broke up?"

Angell nodded.

"Why didn't she tell me? She always tells me everything…" he caught himself and gave a heavy sigh and stared down at the beer bottle in his hand as he picked absentmindedly at the label. "Told me," he corrected. "She always TOLD me everything. I find it hard to talk about her in the past tense. I'm sorry."

Angell gave a sad smile, and leaning across the couch, laid her hand on his forearm. "Don't you ever, ever think, or feel, that you have to apologize to me for being a human being," she said quietly, yet firmly. "You're sad and you're pissed off and you're hurt. And you have every right to be, Don. You lost your wife. And I know how much you love her and adore her. Present tense. So please, don't ever think I'm going to judge you or think less of you for missing Sammie. You lost someone so important to you."

He nodded and sniffled noisily. "So did you," he said.

"She was my best friend," Angell told him. "The years that I spent in her life, in your life together, and your kids lives, those years mean more to me than I could ever tell you. And I miss her. Every day. And some days, I'm doing pretty god. I go to work and get on with my life. And than I see something or hear something, or I'm doing something that reminds me of her. And sometimes it makes me smile, but most of the time, it hurts like a bastard. And there's nights I sleep soundly and others where I rant and rave and I cry about the way things ended. So I know what you're going through. I might not be feeling it to the same extent you are, but believe me, Don, I know and I understand."

He nodded slowly, his eyes downcast.

"I'm not like other people who shall remain nameless. I'm not going to make you feel ashamed for missing your wife as much as you do."

"It just hurts so bad," he whispered. "She's everywhere you know. I see her and feel her. Everywhere. And there's times I even think I hear her. Is that insane or what?"

"Grief has no rhyme or reason to it," Angell said. "You just know how you feel and how to pick yourself help when you're feeling low down. And Don, if you need to freak out and cry or just go somewhere to lick your wounds, that doesn't make you any less of a person."

"I know," he sighed. "I just…apart from you and Danny, everyone has just upped and disappeared on me, you know? They've just dropped off the face of the earth it seems. They don't call and ask how the kids are doing or nothing. I don't care about myself, I'm a big boy. But the kids need people around them. People that were close to their mother. And it seems that no one can find five minutes to do that for them. And that's what hurts. Because Carmen was the closest to them, and as soon as Speedle came back, it was like those kids didn't exist anymore. All of a sudden it became shit on the Flack kids. Let's just forget about them when they need someone the most."

"Well unfortunately, there are a lot of people in this world, that forget about something when it stops being front page news," Angell said.

"You and Danny have been there. I understand Adam's reasoning. I get that. I don't blame Adam in the slightest for keeping his distance. He's dealing with his own issues and him being around the kids at this point in time, isn't a smart idea. But everyone else?" Flack snorted and took a huge gulp of his beer. "Fuck 'em."

"Have you thought about what you're going to do afterwards?" Angell asked, swirling her wine around in her glass.

"How you mean?"

"I mean after we get this guy, or guys. Have you thought about what you're going to do? With your life? With your kids lives? Are you going to stay with the department or…"

"We're going to leave," he answered quickly.

"As in Queens or…"

"As in New York State. We're going to put the house up for sale and me and my kids are going to get as far away from here as possible."

"Where are you going to go?" Angell asked, surprised by his admission.

Flack shrugged. "We'll find some place. I can easily get a job in another city's department. I'm not worried about that. It's just one it's done, once we get whoever did this? I want to be as far away from here as possible. This is just a house. Sure there's lots of memories here. But the most important memories of Sammie are the ones I keep in my heart. I can carry those with me wherever I go."

Angell smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "You're going to be okay, Don Flack Jr. You and your kids are going to be okay."

"I hope so," he said with a small nod. "I really hope so. And thank you. For coming here tonight. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she assured him, laying a hand on the back of his neck. "I figured you needed someone. And I wanted to be that someone."

He wasn't sure entirely how Angell meant that. If she had wanted to be that someone out of sheer friendship, or if there was something more behind it. If there was a little more to the way she softly stroked the back of his neck and grazed his cheek with her nose, her dark eyes locked on him. He prayed to God that he was reading too much into it. That it was just his insurmountable grief and the beer making him think irrational thoughts. And feel irrational things. Because now, as he turned to look at her, and saw so much care and concern, and yes, affection in her eyes, he realized how nice it felt to have a woman that close to him again. Someone that touched him so gently and cared about him. And it scared the hell out of him for feeling that way. For wanting someone to love him and adore him. For wanting someone to help him feel alive again.

No one would ever, ever replace Sam or the way he loved her. But she was gone and she was never coming back. No matter how much he begged and pleaded and prayed. And while he didn't necessarily want Angell or see her in THAT way, the fact of the matter was, she was there and she was real.

And he was lonely and afraid.

She moved her hand from the back of his neck and laid it along his face. Her thumb tracing over his top lip as she looked deep into his eyes. "It's okay, Don," she whispered, and placed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. "It's okay."

He shook his head. Nothing was okay. And it would never be okay again. But he neither pulled away or resisted when she leaned into him and covered his lips with hers in a long and soft kiss.

It wasn't until he realized that that kiss didn't feel the same, that those lips didn't taste the same, that his body froze and his brain screamed at him to stop. And he jerked away as if he'd been scalded and quickly stood up.

"I can't," he said, shaking his head mournfully. "I just can't…"

"It's okay to need someone," Angell whispered, reaching for his hand. "It's okay to need someone to help you feel human again."

He shook his head and yanked his hand away. "I don't want someone," he told her. "I just want my wife. I just want my Sammie. That's all I want. I don't want this."

"She's not here, Don," Angell reminded him gently. "And she's never going to be here again."

"But she's here," he said, touching his temple with his finger. "And she's here," he laid his hand over his heart. "And she's all around me. It's been less than three months and I can't just forget about her that easily."

"No one said you have to forget about her," Angell told him. "I just said that it's okay to need someone at the moment."

"No moments," he said. "I have enough moments in my life that mean a lot to me. I don't need anymore. She was your friend, Jess. You're best friend according to you. And I'm not doing this with you. Not with anyone. But especially not with you. Not another three months from now, not a year from now or ten years from now. I'm sorry, but no. Not tonight not ever. You mean a lot to me. You know you do. And maybe in another time and another place, there could have been a me and you. Maybe. I don't know. But not now."

She nodded in understanding. She wasn't going to hold it against him that he just wasn't ready. Or that he couldn't get involved with her because she'd been best friends with his wife. That was an awkward and unusual circumstance. But her intention wasn't to walk into his house and take over his life, to play mommy to his children.

"I don't expect you to give me forever, Don," she said, as she slowly rose to her feet. "I don't expect to be your wife and a mother to your children. I'm not suggesting that something long term could ever happen between us."

"So what are you suggesting?" he asked. "'Cause from where I stand, it's like you're trying to take her place."

"I would never, ever try that," Angell replied, taking a step closer to him and laying her hands on his broad chest. "I don't want to take her place."

"What DO you want?" he inquired.

"I want to help make you feel better," she whispered. "To make you feel alive. You're lonely and you need someone."

"I don't need to get laid!" he yelled as he backed away from her. "I don't need to fuck somebody to make me feel better! I don't need a goddamn release. I can take care of that shit myself!"

"I know…but wouldn't it be nice to have someone with you, Don? To have someone make you feel good? To have someone curled up to you in the middle of the long, lonely night. To wake up beside someone. To share your bed, even just once, with someone and know that you're still human."

He shook his head. "I'm not sharing my bed, the bed I've shared with my wife, with anyone. Whether it be you or a stranger off the goddamn street. It isn't going to happen. I've got my kids here, Jess! I don't want my kids thinking I'm moving on and forgetting about their mother."

"They don't need to know. How would they know?"

"I'd know!" Flack cried. "I'd know! I'm not doing this, or you. No matter what you say or do. It's not going to happen! I don't want this!"

"You're not cheating on her because you want someone else. She's dead, Don."

"I know she's dead!" he bellowed. "I don't need to be reminded! I live with it every day! And I don't feel like I'd be cheating on her! I just don't want anyone else! What the hell is so hard to understand about that?"

"Don.." she moved closer to him, her voice soft as her hands reached out for him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" he yelled, catching her by both wrists and holding her out at arms length. "It's not okay and it's never going to be okay! I appreciate you being here for me and the kids! But I'm not taking that appreciation to a whole new level, okay? It's not going to happen and I want you to…"

"Daddy?" a tiny voice asked from the bottom landing of the stairs.

Both Flack and Angell glanced over to where Daniel stood, in his NHL pyjamas, his mother's old and tattered stuffed cat under his arm, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

Flack sighed and glared at Angell. A "Look what you've fucking done now" glare. Releasing her arms from his grip, he went to tend to his son. "I'm sorry, buddy," he said. "Did we wake you up?"

He shook his head. "I had a bad dream," he told his father. "I had a bad dream that the bad guys came here and took you away."

"Come here," Flack scooped Daniel up into his arms. "No one is going to come here and take me away, okay?" he stroked his son's head and kissed his sweaty forehead. "No one," he added firmly, his eyes locked on Angell's.

"Promise?" Daniel asked, curling an arm around his dad's neck and laying his head on Flack's shoulder.

"I promise. No bad guys are going to come here and hurt anyone, buddy. How about I take you upstairs and tuck you back in? Read you another story."

"Can I sleep in your bed?" Daniel asked hopefully. "On mommy's side with mommy's pillow?"

"You're the only one I'd let do that," his father replied.

"And will you read me Goodnight Moon?" his son asked.

"That's a little boy story," Flack replied.

"I like it," Daniel said.

"If you like it, I'll read it," his father told him.

"And can I have a drink of water? My throat is itchy."

"I'll get you a drink of water," Flack assured him and started up the stairs. "I've got to take care of some things," he told Angell.

"I'll just wait here," she said. "And we can…"

"I'd actually like it if you saw yourself out," Flack told her. And then turned away and headed up the stairs.

Angell sighed heavily. Tears threatened. It hadn't been her intention to anger him or turn him against her. She'd simply wanted to make him feel better. If even just for a night.

To make herself feel better. Two people helping each other out in their time of grief.

Instead, she was gathering up her things and heading through the darkened living room and letting herself out of the house.

Miserable and alone.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers! But please, please, please R and R folks!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Laurzz**

**Hope4sall**

**Laplandgurl**

**muchmadness**

**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

**TwinkeyRocks**

**Hardylover7477**

**Aphina**

**Forest Angel**

**Wolfeylady**

**Bluehaven4220**

**Madison Bellows**

**Soccer-bitch**

**Delko's Girl 88**


	111. Answers at last

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS.**

* * *

**Answers…at last**

"You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Upon the fields of barley  
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we walk in the fields of gold  
So she took her love  
For to gaze awhile  
Upon the fields of barley  
In his arms she fell as her hair came down  
Among the fields of gold  
Will you stay with me, will you be my love  
Among the fields of barley  
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we lie in the fields of gold  
See the west wind move  
like a lover so  
Upon the fields of barley  
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth  
Among the fields of gold  
I never made promises lightly  
And there have been some that I've broken  
But I swear in the days still left  
We'll walk in the fields of gold  
We'll walk in the fields of gold  
Many years have passed since those summer days  
Among the fields of barley  
See the children run as the sun goes down  
Among the fields of gold  
You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Upon the fields of barley  
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky  
When we walked in the fields of gold."  
-Fields of Gold, Sting

* * *

Flack was awake before the crack of dawn. Two days had passed since Angell and her ill fated attempt at comfort sex. More than forty eight hours since he'd come down the stairs from getting Daniel a drink of water and tucking him into his parents' bed and reading him Good Night Moon. Twice. The beloved book was wrinkled and more than half the pages either crinkled or torn. It had originally been Kieran's. It had been included in a set of children's books that Stella had given the then three month old at his belated baby shower. The story had been read thousands upon thousands of times, Flack was sure of it. He had long ago memorized the words, as had the twins and Kieran.

While he still read it from time to time to Mikayla, the boys had long grown out of the story of a child wishing all of his favourite things goodnight. Kieran was into anything to do with sports. Whether it be Sports Illustrated for Kids or novels on hockey and football geared towards the younger set. Mackenzie was a comic book kid. He had hundreds of them stored in an old suitcase under his bed, and there were many a night that Sam or Flack had gone into his darkened room and found their son hiding under his covers with a flashlight and one of his favourite comics.

Daniel, the brainer of the three, had no interest in magazines or comic books. He preferred The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Both Sam and Flack were pretty sure that their precocious, often hyper-active son didn't understand a word of what he was actually reading. Until he'd sit down at the dinner table and regal them with tales about Frodo Baggins and the War of the Great Ring. And as he went into great detail about various characters, his mother and father would look at each other with their eyes wide, and then smile and marvel at the tiny wonder before them.

Since the death of his mother, Daniel had regressed in his behaviour considerably. While even Mackenzie had begun having problems with nightmares and wetting the bed, Daniel had become somewhat of a little child again. Wanting to read story books that he'd been shrugging off since he was four, begging to keep a light on so it would scare off the monsters under his bed, refusing to spend the entire night in his room and begging and pleading to sleep with Kieran or with his father. And now he was back to sucking his thumb. A habit that his parents had been fortunate enough to break when he was two. Flack had discovered it when he'd woken up a week ago, to Daniel yet again cuddled up to him, and one arm wrapped securely around his mother's tattered old stuffed cat, and the thumb of his free hand stuck firmly in his mouth.

Flack didn't have the heart, or the patience, to attempt to wean the kid from sucking his thumb. He knew it would be a long and trying process. Daniel would scream and throw tantrums. Part of which included him either pulling out chunks of hair -thankfully impossible now that his father had taken him to a barber and got it shaved off-, sitting on the floor and banging the back his head off of the wall behind him, or biting himself until he bled. Flack simply did not have the tolerance to deal with anything like that. He was still dealing with his own sorrow and his own grief and attempting to find his own ways to cope. He didn't think that he could successfully, and fairly, control his son's behaviour.

Flack needed help. He knew it but admitted it to no one but himself. He needed help with not only taking care of his children, but with taking care of himself as well. He'd given up on caring about anything. Work was nothing more than an excuse to get out of the house and keep himself busy. Keep his mind active and off of the constant threat of tears and the agonizing heart break he still felt over his wife's death. The loneliness that never seemed to abate. The heaviness in his chest when he walked into the house at the end of the day and didn't see her or hear her. The emptiness that overcame him when he found himself lying awake at night, alone in their bed, clutching her pillow to his chest. When he had realized after he'd come home from work one day that Carmen -when she'd still been living there- had stripped the bed bare, taking with her the last pillowcase of Sam's that he'd been unable to part with- he'd lost it on her. Terrifying both her and the kids in the process.

He'd ran down to the basement and tore open the dryer and tossed clean, yet damp clothing all over the floor until he'd found it. And when he'd held it up to his face and found that his wife's scent had been obliterated, he'd sat down in the middle of the basement, his knees drawn to his chest and bawled like a baby. Then he'd taken the pillow case upstairs, laid it out flat on the bed, and sprayed it generously with Samantha's perfume.

Carmen had left shortly after that. Claiming that he was taking obsession to a whole new level and that he had a serious problem. That if he didn't get help with it soon, he was going to lose everything. He had called her a cold hearted bitch. Accused her of not understanding what he was going through. He'd already lost a huge chunk of his life. The woman he'd spent a decade with. The love of his life. Speed had come back in the end. He and Carmen may have split up, but he hadn't been gone off the earth permanently. Carmen had gotten a second chance. There were no second chances for him. Samantha was gone and never coming back. His kids no longer had a mother. And Carmen walking out on him and those kids was essentially a slap in the face to Sam.

As was the numerous times, both after Sam's death and in the past, that Carmen, as far as Flack was concerned, had attempted to get a little too cozy with him.

In the end, she had chosen Tim Speedle over them. Flack accepted that. It no longer bothered him. He didn't expect Carmen to grieve for Sam to the same extent as he and the kids and even Adam did. She and Speed had regained, and were rebuilding, their love after a long time apart. And they were disgustingly happy. All the power to them, as far as Flack was concerned. He simply went on with his life -albeit poorly at times- and tried his best to take care of his shattered family. As far as he was concerned, nothing or no one existed other then his kids at the moment. They needed him and he was doing his damndest to make sure he was there for them no matter what.

When Speed had decided to come after his kids, to try and claim them as his own, that was the last goddamn straw. From the time those babies were in the womb, Flack had accepted them and loved them as if they were his own. Regardless of how bad it hurt that his wife had betrayed him, he had vowed to be a father to those twins. To love them and provide for them. To nurture them no matter whose DNA took up residence in their bodies. And he forgave his wife. He'd never forgotten and eight years later, when he thought about what she'd done, it still hurt like hell.

But he loved her. And his kids. He was the only father that Daniel and Mackenzie knew. He was the one that changed their diapers and fed them bottles in the middle of the night. Rocked them when they were colicky. Smiled proudly and cheered them on from behind the video camera when they took their first steps. Wore a ridiculous party hat on his head and helped them unwrap presents and laughed as they smashed their innocent faces into chocolate cake on their first birthdays. Felt the utmost pride when they looked up at him with those big brown eyes and called him daddy for the first time.

So many milestones and wonderful memories that he'd shared with them. As their father. And it was unfathomable that someone who didn't even know they existed, who had vowed that he'd never come between them and the man they knew as their father, could simply decide he wanted them for his own. And find a judge crazy enough to agree with him.

All those thoughts, and more, had been plaguing Flack since he'd come home to find that process server on his front porch. The rage that he felt inside was frightening. It seemed as if anger had taken up a permanent residence inside of him in the past two and half months. He was angry at the bastard who'd robbed him of his wife and his children of their mother. He was angry at Tim Speedle for thinking he could walk into the twins' life and take over as their daddy. He was angry at himself for finding himself remotely attracted to his dead wife's dear friend. Not that he wanted a relationship with Jessica Angell. Hell, he didn't even want one night with her. But he was human. A red blooded male. And it had felt damn good, if not terrified him, to know that a woman wanted him. To know that someone wanted to help him through his darkest days. To make him feel alive again. Even if the way she'd wanted to help him did seem a bit twisted and strange.

Most of all, he was angry at Samantha. Angry that she hadn't followed department protocol that day. That she'd gone in to begin processing the scene without waiting for Stella. For being so goddamn stubborn.

For leaving him. For leaving him raise four kids on his own. One with severe emotional issues on top of the OCD and ADHD that already plagued the poor kid. It was Sam that always dealt with Daniel. Recognized warning signs and interpreted his bizarre behaviour and got him into the right people and the right therapies and drugs if need be. She was able to effectively and compassionately deal with him and his outbursts. It had been that way since Daniel's problems began to manifest. Flack had been somewhat ignorant to it all. He'd listen to her rant and rave or tell him about what course of treatment the pedeatrician was going to try with their son, but for the most part, it went in one ear and out the other. She was dealing with it and that was enough for Flack. He trusted her explicitly with their children. And if she said things were under control, then he believed her.

And now this. Left alone to deal with a child that was in some ways, a stranger to him. He had absolutely no clue on who to go to seek help for his son or what to do when Daniel threw one of his fits. And while he wished that he'd paid more attention to what his wife had done for the their son, he wished more that she was still around to handle it herself. That she was still there to take care of all of them.

Flack didn't want to be angry at her. He didn't want to hate her for leaving him. What had happened was no fault of her own. And second guessing her decisions or over analyzing the moment had no bearing on the future. Nothing was going to erase what had happened, or bring her back. The anger mostly kicked in at the loneliest moments in his life. When it was the wee hours of morning or the silent hours of the night. When he was alone and unable to sleep and plagued with thoughts of her. With time on his hands to go through moments they'd shared together in his mind. To think about how much he missed her and loved her.

And to think about the many, many things she'd miss in their children's lives. They had started their marriage on the promise of forever. On thoughts of one day growing old and grey together. Of having children together and raising them and seeing them out of the house and growing in their own relationships. Of one day having grandchildren. Of enjoying their golden years together once retirement hit and they had all the time in the world to spend together.

He thought of the trip to Ireland they were suppose to take. They were supposed to leave four days after her shooting. She'd been excited and hyper about going away. Just the two of them. It would have been her first ever trip outside of the United States, and their first trip alone.

But it never happened. And he hated himself for not making her call in sick that morning. For not encouraging her to stay home when she was already so late.

Despite all the regret and the pain, he was thankful for one thing. That when she'd left that morning, it had been under happy circumstances. They had enjoyed a wonderfully, tender moment of intimacy and his last words to her had been that he loved her. She hadn't left with any doubt in her mind about how he'd felt about her. And when she hadn't walked back into the house, he'd been left with no doubt in his how she'd felt about him.

Always a silver lining, Flack thought, as he rubbed sleep out of his weary eyes and cast glance to at the bedside clock. Five thirty seven in the morning and he was already up and knew that sleep would now allude him. He shifted carefully in the bed, trying his best to not wake the three sleeping boys that were gathered beside him. His sons were snuggled tightly together, their heads at the foot of the bed. The air conditioner being turned on full blast had caused a chill in the house and he'd grabbed the comforter from Kieran's room and covered the boys up after they'd fallen asleep shortly before midnight. After Mikayla had been put to bed, the men of the house had gathered together in the big bed to eat junk food and watch scary movies. Kieran's idea for how they could spent family time together, they attempted to gather together like that at least twice a week.

The kids were always fast asleep before making it to a second movie. But it was always fun to see them huddled together, peering out from behind their hands. Terrified of the movie, but not wanting to miss a second of it. Even Kieran, who tried his best to be big and brave and bad, sometimes dove under the covers out of fright. In between his little brothers clinging to him and hiding behind him.

Flack lay staring up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head, listening to his boys' soft breathing and the way Mackenzie murmured in his sleep. Feeling their feet digging in his side or rubbing against his stomach if either of them moved in the slightest. And he found himself nearly laughing out loud as he thought about how big those feet actually were. Even on two kids as small as Daniel and Mackenzie. They had absolutely monstrous feet for their bodies. And it made him think about how Sam always teased him about his feet. How they were big and awkward and always got in the way. And how his sons had his feet. Among all the other traits they'd picked up from him.

He sat up suddenly and looked down at the end of the bed. Studying Daniel and Mackenzie carefully. Angell's words from two nights ago echoing in his mind.

Have you ever stopped to think that maybe those boys actually yours?

They look exactly like their mother….

He realized, as he sat there looking at them so closely, that Angell was right. That despite the unruly hair they had both possessed from birth, Daniel and Mackenzie did look just like their mother. The eyes may not have been the same colour, but they were the same shape and had the ability to express so many different emotions. Both had her tiny, pixie like nose dusted with freckles and her small ears. Her pale, smooth skin and her smile. And her laugh. That giggle that could warm even the coldest of hearts. And the unruly hair…well it was Adam's hair. Colour and everything. Mikayla had the same texture of hair, only it was black like her father's and Kieran's.

And Angell was right about another thing. He hadn't ever considered the possibility that he was the twins' father because he was so angry about his wife's infidelity. That he had refused to even consider the option that he had fathered Daniel and Mackenzie. That he'd taken one look at them as newborns and was so quick to rant and rave at Tim Speedle when in reality, those babies looked the way they did because they took after their mother.

Tears threatened at the mere possibility of finding out that Daniel and Mackenzie were his children. After he'd all but kicked Angell out of the house two evenings ago, he hadn't been able to swallow his pride enough to apologize to her, nor had she called to see if things were okay between them. Instead, he'd confided in Danny about the paternity suite filed against him and his desire to find out if the twins were his. Danny hadn't said much. He'd simply nodded, his eyes full of understanding when he'd come over to the house later and swabbed the inside of Flack's cheek and then the inside of the twins' mouth while they were asleep. Having the boys awake during the process would only raise a lot of questions. Especially on Daniel's part.

Questions Flack didn't have the answers to.

He wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands and cleared his throat noisily before pushing the covers off of his body and slowly and carefully slipping out of bed. Flack knew there wasn't a chance he'd ever fall back asleep now. He was up for the duration of the day. No matter how long and trying. He was just thankful that he had the day off. He had made plans to take Kieran and Mikayla over to his parents while Daniel and Mackenzie went to Carmen and Speed's for their every second weekend visit. It burned his ass and made him sick to his stomach that he had to ship his kids off there. Not to mention the twins' routinely cried about having to go. But he was trying to make things as friendly as possible.

_Please God, just cut me some slack, _Flack thought, as he fixed the comforter around his three boys. Tucking it around their slumbering bodies before bending down to press a kiss to each forehead and run a gentle hand over their hair. _You've already taken my wife away from me. What more do you want? Let something work out for me for a change. Let them be mine. Don't take my kids away from me._

Daniel moaned loudly in his sleep but didn't awaken. Instead he cuddled in closer to Kieran and shoved his thumb into his mouth.

Flack didn't bother to even attempt to pull the thumb out of his kid's mouth. Such an action would only wake Daniel up and either cause a massive tantrum, or have the kid up all day. Which would make him extremely grumpy and moody for his Auntie Carmen and Uncle Tim. And grumpy and moody on top of the OCD and ADHD made for a wicked combination.

Instead, he left his children sleeping and crept from the bedroom. He journeyed down the hall and let himself into Mikayla's room. He tip toed over to the Disney Princess toddler bed and tucked the covers around his daughter's tiny body and picked her teddy up off of the floor and carefully lifted her arm and placed the beloved bear underneath it. Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his little girl's head, he silently headed from the room, closing the door slightly behind him.

* * *

Flack journeyed downstairs. The house was in silence save for the gentle hum of the central air unit as he made his way into the kitchen, flicking on the lights as he went straight to the sink and snagged a mug out of the drain board. The place was a complete mess. He tried his best to keep on top of all the chores and all the repairs, but it seemed like it was one thing after another. That things were constantly piling up with no end in sight. Despite both the dishwasher and the counter top rack being full of clean things, the sink was full of even more dirty dishes. Seven loads of wash were waiting in the utility room in the basement. He had been opting to buy himself and the kids things to wear when clothes ran out instead of just buckling down and doing the wash. The cupboards and the fridge were nearly empty. The only thing that seemed in good supply was bread, milk and three different kinds of cereal. For nearly two weeks, he'd been ordering out nearly every night, or he took his kids over to his parents for dinner.

This is fucking ridiculous, Flack thought, as he filled his mug with water and placed it in the microwave for four minutes. His house was a mess, his kids were out of control and life seemed to be falling apart.

He needed to get a grip. To get a handle on things. Yet at the same time, he didn't want to have to ask for help. He was no one's charity case and he hated imposing on his family and friends when they had their own lives and issues to deal with. At the same time, without help, he was going to fail miserable.

And he refused to fail.

The microwave beeped and he took the mug out and grabbed a jar of instant coffee from the cupboard. Making himself a cup, he snagged a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the top of the fridge. His eyes falling on the half empty bottle of JD that sat there. Calling his name. Since Sam had died, he'd fallen off the wagon. Hard. And it sickened him. That he'd become that weak that he'd had to resort to alcohol. Within the last month he'd gotten somewhat of a grip on his problem. He didn't want to go back to the way he was years ago, or become even worse. His kids needed him. Not an alcoholic of a father.

But one won't hurt, he thought, as he grabbed a hold of the bottle and carried everything over to the cluttered kitchen table. Sitting the lighter and cigarettes and coffee down, he removed the lid from the alcohol and brought the bottle to his lips. The strong odour of the JD permeating his senses and knocking some sense into him. Shaking his head, he instead decided to pour the liquor into the steaming cup of coffee. Just one, he told himself. Just something to take the edge off. Once the edge is off, you'll be okay. The pain will subside a bit. You'll cope. Things won't seem as bad after just one.

The phone on top of the phone rang, startling him. He gave a small start, then set the bottle of alcohol down as he hurried to answer the telephone. To prevent it from waking his kids up. He snatched the offending object from the top of the microwave and pressed talk without even checking the caller ID.

"Yeah…this is Flack,' he said in way of greeting.

"Hey, it's me," Danny's voice, although tired, also sounded somewhat energized. Excited.

"Messer, it's not even six in the morning," Flack growled. "What in the hell…"

"I'm at the lab," Danny told him. "I just…I got the results of the paternity test back…"

Flack felt his hands begin to tremble. His heart pounded in his chest. "And?" he asked.

"And I think I need to come and see you. Right now," Danny replied.

"It's not even six," Flack repeated. "What could possibly be so…"

"I can't give you news like this over the phone. I just can't. I have to do it face to face."

"Is it bad or good?" Flack inquired. It was fifty-fifty in either direction. He either was, or he wasn't.

"I'm on my way over," Danny told him, and promptly hung up.

Frowning, Flack pressed end and set the phone back on top of the microwave and returned to the kitchen table. Although it had only been a couple of minutes from the time the phone rang until the end of the conversation, the need for alcohol had evaporated. Instead of adding it to his coffee or taking a swig right from the bottle, Flack instead put the cap back on and walked over to the fridge to put the bottle back.

He paused in his tracks as he caught sight of Sam's handwriting on the fridge. The honey-do list she'd made for him the day before her death. He hadn't had the heart to take it down. And he stood there now, two and a half months later, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of her writing.

_**1. Clean out the garden shed. It's a damn disgusting mess.**_

_**2. Paint Kieran's room. He's been on you about it for a month. And he wants to help**_

_**3. Buy and then replace the filter for the central air unit. It's going to get stinking hot soon, babe**_

_**4. Could you PLEASE put in that new shower head for our bathroom? You know, the one I bought back in January?**_

_**5. Either call a professional, or re-pave the driveway yourself? You know how I love it when you're all hot and sweaty from hard, manly work. And how I love to rub away your aches and pain afterwards.**_

_**6. Always remember that I love you.**_

He smiled, and reaching out, trailed his fingertips over the last six words.

I love you, too, he whispered in the silence of the kitchen.

Looking down at the bottle of booze in his hands, then up again at his wife's handwriting, Flack decided to do what was right. For him and his kids.

He walked to the sink, uncapped the bottle and dumped every ounce of the amber coloured liquor down the drain.

You're going to be okay, he told himself. Everything's going to be okay.

And for once, he felt confidant in telling himself that.

* * *

Danny Messer arrived shortly before six thirty. His clothes were wrinkled and dishevelled and his hair messy from the long triple that he'd just completed, but there was a spring in his step as he climbed out of his car and journeyed across the front lawn of his best friend's house. Things in his own life had begun to finally improve. His divorce from Erica was close to being finalized, and he and Lindsay had not only moved in together, but had found out they were expecting their first child together. She had never returned to Montana after she'd made the appearance at the Flack house for Samantha's wake. Despite Danny's decision to stay as far away from his ex as possible, he had found the exact opposite taking place. While Erica had dealt with her cousin's death by tossing herself into her work and going on more and more business trips and essentially ignoring him and their kids, Danny had found himself seeking solace in the arms of his Montana. He wasn't proud of the fact that he had committed adultery. He had sworn after Rikki he'd never cheat on anyone again. He knew how badly people got hurt when there was dishonesty in a relationship.

But Erica had all but abandoned him when he'd needed someone the most. Still reeling from the death of someone he considered a sister, Danny had needed her for the long and dark days he had been coping with. For the unshakable loss and depression that threatened to over take him. It had been Lindsay, who, after he'd called her at one thirty in the morning one night, in tears over his lot in life and the unfairness of what had happened to Samantha and Flack and their four kids, who had left her new apartment and took a cab to see him. It had been Lindsay who'd listened patiently and understandingly. Who held him in her arms, her head to her shoulder as she rocked him like a mother comforting her distraught child.

It had been Lindsay he'd loved all along. And now, with this second chance at a life with her, he was bound and determined not to fuck it up. Erica had taken up with her ex and signed over full custody of the kids. Who loved their new step mom and the prospect of there being a new addition to the family.

And while after his long shift, Danny wanted nothing more than to go home and be with his soon to be wife and his kids, the news he had to deliver took precedence.

Huge precedence, in fact.

Flack was already waiting outside. Smoking a cigarette on the top step, two cups of coffee sitting on the porch behind him.

Danny nodded in greeting and held up the manila envelope he held in his hands. A huge grin on his face.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy Flack," he said, and presented his best friend with the envelope.

"Are you fucking serious?" Flack asked, trying to contain the excitement in his voice.

"I'm not saying another word. Just take a look at it for yourself."

"Do you know what it says?" Flack asked. "Did you look at the results before putting them in here?"

"Would it piss you off if I did?" Danny retorted.

"No. I'd be more surprised if you didn't look at them."

"I'm not saying anything else. Just…just open them, Don."

Flack finished up his smoke and butted it out on the top step before tossing it in the rusted tin can behind him. Wiping his hands on the legs of his sweats, he took the envelope from Danny and quickly tore it open. His hands trembled yet again. Sweat beaded on his forehead and the back of his neck. More from nervousness then the already humid conditions outside. His heart pounded in his chest and his stomach twisted itself into knots as he pulled out the single sheet of paper inside.

"Tell me what it says," Danny encouraged, unable to contain his own excitement as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"If you already know then…"

"Just read it out loud," he said. "I want to hear it come out of your mouth. I want to hear you say it. A'right? Humour me."

Flack sighed heavily and briefly closed his eyes before looking down at the carefully typed words in front of him.

Danny watched as realization slowly set in. He saw the smile that tugged at his friend's mouth and the tears that threatened in Flack's eyes.

"Tell me what it says," Danny pressed.

"It says," Flack began in a shaky face. "That to an accuracy of ninety nine point nine nine eight percent…"

Danny fought off the urge to hug and kiss his best friend.

"That I'm Daniel and Mackenzie's father," Flack finished. And promptly dissolved into tears, the sheet of paper fluttering out of his hands and onto the ground.

Danny fought back tears as he picked the paper up and took a seat beside his best friend. He wrapped an arm around Flack and held the other man's head to his shoulder as he sobbed. Unabashedly and unashamed.

"Boom," Danny whispered. That one word never sounding, or feeling, so damn good.

* * *

**So this was shorter than most. But I didn't want to take away from the news!**

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers! But please, please, please R and R folks! It makes me day!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Laurzz**

**Hope4sall**

**Laplandgurl**

**muchmadness**

**Delko's Girl88**

**Forest Angel**

**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

**HighQueenReicheru**

**wolfeylady**

**Soccer-bitch**

**IluvPeterPetrelli**

**bluehaven4220**


	112. Painting the town blue: Part Three

****

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN

**A/N: MOB IS BACK! AND I HOPE ALL THE FANS OF IT WILL COME BACK AS WELL.**

**I'D LIKE TO TAKE THE TIME TO APOLOGIZE TO ALL OF MY LOYAL READERS AND MY FRIENDS WHO HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING THIS STORY, AND ALL MY OTHERS, SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING. I AM ASHAMED THAT I HAVE IGNORED MOB AND VFB. THEY WERE MY FIRST LOVES AND I ALLOWED OUTSIDE FORCES TO TUG ME AWAY FROM THEM IN FAVOUR OF OTHER STORIES. AND BY THAT, I MEAN TOGETHER WE FALL. WHICH IS WHY I CHOSE TO TAKE IT DOWN. IT JUST WASN'T WORKING FOR ME AND MAKING ME HAPPY ANYMORE. THIS STORY, (ALONG WITH VFB AND OB OG) AND ITS FANS, DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT AND I AM TRULY SORRY. WHAT CAN I SAY? I NEVER DID DO WELL WITH PEER PRESSURE. LOL. SO I THANK ALL OF YOU WHO WILL GIVE THIS STORY, AND ME, ANOTHER CHANCE! I AM FOLLOWING MY HEART FROM NOW ON. AND SORRY TO ANY FRIENDS I MAY HAVE HURT ALONG THE WAY. LOSING YOU WAS NOT WORTH PLEASING OTHER PEOPLE.**

**A HUGE THANKS TO: MY VERY DEAR FRIEND HOPE4SALL WHO MADE ME REALIZE THAT MAKING MYSELF HAPPY WAS MOST IMPORTANT.**

**MUCHMADNESS: FOR UNDERSTANDING WHAT A DIFFICULT TIME I AM GOING THROUGH RL WISE AND MAKING ME REALIZE THAT THIS SHOULD BE JUST ABOUT HAVING FUN!**

**LAURZZ: LET'S SHOW THE HATERS THAT WE CAN HAVE DIFFERENCES IN OPINIONS AND STILL BE FRIENDS. THAT WE CAN SUPPORT ONE ANOTHER NO MATTER WHAT. CAN WE DO THAT?**

**AND TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE BEEN THERE FROM THE BEGINNING, ESPECIALLY APHINA, MADISON BELLOWS, MUCHMADNESS, GREGROX, IMASUPERNATURALCSI, SOCCER-BITCH, LAPLANDGURL, BLUEHAVEN4220 AND MANY OTHERS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FAITH YOU'VE SHOWN IN ME TIME AND TIME AGAIN. **

**OKAY, SO THIS TAKES OFF FROM THE CHAPTERS BEFORE THE DRAMA WITH THE DNA TEST AND FLACK AND ANGELL. IT'S A PAST CHAP, SO ENJOY!**

* * *

**Painting the Town Blue: Part Three**

"Remember when I was young and so were you  
and time stood still and love was all we knew  
You were the first, so was I  
We made love and then you cried  
Remember when  
Remember when we vowed the vows and walked the walk  
Gave our hearts, made the start, it was hard  
We lived and learned, life threw curves  
There was joy, there was hurt  
Remember when  
Remember when old ones died and new were born  
And life was changed, disassembled, rearranged  
We came together, fell apart  
And broke each others hearts  
Remember when  
Remember when the sound of little feet  
was the music  
We danced to week to week  
Brought back the love, we found trust  
Vowed we'd never give up  
Remember when."  
-Remember When, Alan Jackson

* * *

Stepping out into the crisp night air, Samantha bypassed the crowd of smokers lingering around the front doors that led from the elegantly decorated ballroom, to the equally exquisite courtyard that had transformed into a lounge area. Beautifully created topiaries and floral arrangments graced mauve tulle covered table tops while white satin coverings had been draped over otherwise average wooden chairs and lounges. White lights glittered in the bushes and trees and along the edges of the round tables and top of the bar. A string quartet entertained the mingling guests; conversation and delightful music floating on the breeze.

She bypassed both the bar and the makeshift dance floor where several couples swayed to the classic offerings and made her way to a less popular area of the patio. Gathering her dress around her legs, she sunk down into one of the empty chaise lounges, and snapping open her clutch style purse, plucked out her metallic pink cell phone. Flipping it open, she powered it up, waiting for the jingling tone that indicated it was coming to life, and a beep that would indicate waiting voice messages -none came, which she figured was a good thing sign that all hell wasn't breaking loose at home - before dialling the familiar number.

"Everything is fine!" Adam's voice blurted out the second he picked up. Recognizing her number when it appeared on the call display on the phone in the kitchen. "Don't be so paranoid and go and enjoy your night!"

"I am enjoying my night," she assured him. "For the most part."

"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked.

"It means that I am, for the most part, having a nice time tonight. It's nice to get out with my husband and actually wear something other than my pyjamas or sweat pants and baby puke stained t-shirts. And we are definitely planning on putting that amazing hotel room to good use."

"Well just keep those dirty thoughts and plans to yourself," Adam suggested. "So what part of your night aren't you having a nice time with?" he asked.

"It's the other wives," she replied with a sigh. "Not just the regular wives of the regular cops like that Don. But the wives of the brass. Anyone who is anyone within the NYPD is here tonight. And their spouses apparently think that being married to anyone who is anyone within the blue machine makes them akin to Godliness."

"Aren't you technically married to someone who is anyone who is anyone within the blue machine?" her brother questioned.

"No. I'm technically the daughter in law to someone who is someone in the blue machine," Sam corrected. Then frowned. "If that just wasn't the most confusing sentence I've ever spoken in my entire life. Quit going all cryptic on me and talk like a normal human being, Peanut."

"The point I'm trying to make is that Flack is destined to be one of those someone's in the department," Adam clarified. "Look how fast he's climbed the ladder since the day he graduated from the academy. All the records he's shattered and the people he's impressed and the amazing amount of busts, both ordinary and extraordinary he has under his belt. He's going places within the department. So in a sense, you're married to…"

"Let's not get into that rambling nonsense again," she laughed. "I get what you're trying to say. Yes, he will someday be a huge thing within the department. And he's come a long way at such a young age and there are no words to describe how proud I am of him. But at that moment, the only someone who is someone in the Flack family is Senior. And honestly, I don't know if I want Donnie to be someone. I just want him to be himself."

"He's always going to be himself outside of the job," Adam pointed out. "Doesn't matter how high up the ladder he climbs. He's still the same Flack at home that he's always been."

She grinned. "And here I was thinking I had too much to drink so early in the evening," she teased. "Or is it something that you've been smoking that's making you talk like this?"

"Ha-ha," Adam snorted. "Very funny. You know I gave that shit up as soon as I met Gussie."

"That's because you know she'd kick your ass up and down the city if you didn't put your frat boy like antics to rest for good," Sam said. "Was there every any doubt that someone as sophisticated and classy as her would tolerate that kind of thing? She's the best thing that ever happened to you, you know. She keeps you in line. Smartens you up. She was definitely a Godsend when it comes to you, Peanut."

"She is," he agreed, and Sam could tell by the tone of her brother's voice that there was a huge grin spreading from ear to ear. "I guess seeing me this happy just makes all those visits to the department shrinks worth it, huh?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Sam laughed. "But there was definitely a hidden agenda on God's part. Why else would he send me to Gus? It was obviously for a reason, right? If I'd never been chastised for my unladylike behaviour, you never would have met the love of your life. So see? Me being a massive bitch to Lindsay Monroe served a purpose in the grand scheme of things."

"You were both massive, annoying, immature bitches," Adam said. "At least the two of you are somewhat friends now. Even if it is while you're both thousands of miles apart."

"Emails and chats on MSN do not make us besties by any means," Sam told him. "But I figured if Danny's so hell bent on fucking Erica over all the time for Lindsay, I might as well at least be civil right? And besides, I promised Donnie I'd be nicer to people. That I'd repent and make amends with the people I've wronged."

Adam laughed at that. "Does that graciousness go both ways? Is he doing the same thing?"

"So far it's a one way street," Sam admitted. "But we can't go through life hating people and never forgiving. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? It's the great thing about life. While you still have the chance you can take back all the shitty things you've ever said and done to other people. Cleanse your soul, so to speak. I doubt Lindsay and I will ever be tight, but at least we both have a chance to apologize for what went down while she was here. Not that either of us have sucked it up and made the first step, mind you."

"Maybe neither of you ever will," Adam reasoned. "There's no law stating that you have to like Lindsay or she has to like you. We can't all be universally loved. We weren't all put on earth to be friends with each other. Life just doesn't work that way. You don't want to be friends with someone, you don't have to be. Simple as that."

"What have you been smoking?" Sam laughed. "Seriously…you're talking some crazy, deep stuff tonight."

"I'm just trying to make you realize that you don't need to do something because other people think it's a good idea or tell you to. You're your own person. Do what makes you happy and screw everyone else. They don't like it, they can keep their mouths shut and shove their opinions up their ass."

She grinned. "God…remind me to thank Gussie for turning you into this macho, tough talking, swaggering thing the next time I see her. If I wasn't your sister, I'd be seriously into you."

"You would?" Adam asked, sounding surprised.

"Well…no," Sam admitted and laughed. "You're just not my type, Peanut. Blood relation or not. Sorry. And speaking of blood relations, what would my beautiful baby boy be up to?"

"Danny's educating him in the finer art of the Playboy Channel. They're currently in front of the television ogling some brunette with monstrous boobs and a talent for being able to…."

"Do not finish that sentence," Sam cried. "I know full well what Danny and Don watch on that channel. I don't need to be reminded. Gross. Seriously gross. I'm definitely calling the cable company and getting rid of that damn channel."

"If it's not on the t.v., he's going to be looking at it on the 'net," Adam told her. "Neither is the lesser of two evils."

"He shouldn't be needing to look at stuff like that," Sam huffed. "But I guess when you're wife is the size of a double wide and makes you physically sick to see her naked…"

"Oh here we go," Adam sighed. "Here comes the I'm fat and disgusting rant. Don't make me come over there and make me put you over my knee and spank you."

Sam grimaced. "Don't be talking perverted, kinky shit to your own sister. What is wrong with you?"

"You are not fat," Adam told her. "You just had a baby two months ago. Did you honestly expect to drop back down to a size eight in the blink of an eye? Especially after all the problems you had. Just be thankful that you're healthy. That baby K is healthy. He's amazing and he's beautiful and you did a damn good job of bringing him into this world. He doesn't care if his mommy is a size three or a size twenty. Kid loves you regardless. And so does Flack."

"Yeah…he made it perfect clear when I got here how much he does love me regardless," she said. Then giggled before adding, "With words and actions."

"I so don't want to hear this!" Adam cried. "Why must you torture me like this?"

"Because it's fun," she said. "And because I can. So Kieran is doing what exactly…"

"He's out like a light in his crib. He had a bath, a bottle, got into his jammies, hung out in that swing while Danny and I had something to eat. The two of them fell asleep on the couch together. It was actually kinda cute. Danny stretched out with this little baby on his chest. I took pictures. I figure I might need them as blackmail someday."

"Well as long as everything's okay…" Sam said.

"We're fine. Kieran's fine. He's in great hands. Go and have some fun for Christsakes. You deserve it."

"Okay…you'll call, right? If anything happens to him?"

"What is going to happen to him? Danny and I are here. We're not going to leave him alone."

"He could get a really bad tummy ache," she reasoned. "Or his reflux might flare up and if he's lying on his back he could choke on it if he spits up and…"

"He's on his side, held in place with rolled up towels in the front and back. I know how to take care of him Sammie. I've been around, you know."

"I know. I just get…"

"Insanely paranoid?" he asked.

"He's my baby, Adam. I went through so much to get him here safely. I don't want anything happening to him. I just worry about him and I.."

"And you love him and he's the light of your life and the center of your universe," Adam finished. "I get it. I understand. And he's the center of Uncle Peanut's universe too. I'd die for that kid. And for you. So cut me some slack here and hang up the phone and have some fun. Buy a whole bottle of champagne and drink it yourself. Get totally polluted. Make Don carry you back to the room."

"Let him take advantage of me in wild, insanely dirty ways," she mused.

"I'm hanging up now!" Adam exclaimed. "That's just stuff a brother should never hear his sister say!"

"Speaking of things you should never hear me say, did Gussie tell you that we're going to Angell's Pleasure Party next Saturday?"

"She did. And I can't believe Angell's having one of those things. Please tell me you're not actually going to buy anything."

"Are you kidding? I'm going to clean the place out! That way I can retire all my old sex toys and my husband and just…"

"My virgin ears!" Adam cried.

"Oh relax. I'm just joking. I'm actually going for the lingerie show part. Jess is planning on doing some of the modelling herself. And seeing as we're each other's girl crushes, she says she's got this really naughty French Maid outfit picked out just for me."

"Good-bye, Sammie!" Adam yelled into the phone.

The line went dead.

* * *

Grinning, Sam pressed end on her cell phone and snapping it close, dropped into her purse before standing up. Smoothing down the back of her dress, she slipped her feet back into her shoes, tucked the small bag under her arm and headed across the patio, heels clicking on the cement as she once again bypassed the dance floor. Smirking at the sight of the police commissioner with his hand on his much younger date's ass as she squealed in sheer delight as he nibbled lightly on the side of her neck.

_To each his own, _Sam thought and headed for the bar. Snapping her purse open once again, she pulled out one of many of the beverage tickets she and Flack had purchased before heading into the ballroom. Tapping the corner of the ticket on the bar, she waited quietly and patiently for the bartender to finish up with his other customers. Groaning inwardly and nervously fidgeting with the beads on her clutch as Inspector Gerard stepped up alongside of her. Noticing as he gave her a small, respectful once over before clearing his throat noisily.

Samantha felt…uncomfortable. To say the least. It was the first time she'd been alone with the man since barging into his office months before, demanding answers and explanations and information about the botched raid and the whereabouts of her then fiance. She hadn't been written up or 'dealt with' in any way shape or form. Although she had heard from reliable sources, that it had taken a lot of arguing and near begging and pleading on Flack's behalf to get Gerrard to allow her to escape from her actions unscathed. And she wondered if maybe he'd personally followed her outside to give her what she knew was a well deserved and earned reaming out.

"What can I get you miss?" the young bartender asked, snapping her out of her paranoia induced daze.

"I'll take a pink champagne. Please and thank you," she replied, holding the ticket out. Then finding herself slightly taken aback when Gerrard reached over top of her, took a hold of the bartender's wrist and laid two beverage tickets into the young man's palm.

"And I'll have a double malt scotch," he requested.

The bartended nodded and hurried off to prepare their order.

"Thank you," Samantha said sincerely, as she tucked her ticket back into her purse.

Gerrard simply nodded. That stern, cold, tight lipped expression never leaving his face.

Sam sighed inwardly and stared down at her feet. Absentmindedly tracing the pattern on the intricately laid mosaic tiling with the toe of her shoe. Tension hung heavily in the air. The longer the silence continue, the more anxious she became, and she fought the overwhelming urge to say something. Anything. Inspector Stanton Gerrard simply terrified her. More than any other man, aside from her birth father, had ever done in her entire life.

Bored with the designs at her feet, she cleared her throat and commenced drumming her well manicured fingernails on the top of the bar.

Gerrard's head snapped towards her. His eyes riveted on her profile before they travelled down to her hands. The noise obviously irritated him. And his expression did little to disguise his annoyance.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly and used her free left hand to still her offending right one. "Nervous habit."

The bartender finally returned, presenting them with their drinks before receiving a five dollar tip from the Inspector.

"Thank you again," Sam said to Gerrard, her fingers curling around the stem of her champagne flute. "I better go inside and…"

"There's a few things I'd like to say to you," Gerrard told her, his hand lightly capturing her wrist as she stepped away from the bar.

"I really need to get inside," she insisted. "I've been gone a long time and Don will be thinking I've run off on him. So if you'll excuse me…"

"I just need a moment of your time," the Inspector assured her, and motioned towards an empty table.

Sighing, Sam relegated herself to the fact that there was no escape. She nodded and retreated to the table after he released from his grasp. Setting his drink down on the table, Gerrard pulled her chair out and waited for her to lower herself before pushing it back in and then taking a seat beside her.

"What is it you want to say?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.

"I want to talk to you about Don," he replied. "And how far he's come in his career."

Sam nodded slowly.

"And how far he's come with his life in general," Gerrard added.

She smiled.

"I've known Donnie Junior for a long, long time," Gerrard began. "I was partners with his father working out of the three five. We went through the academy together. We were inseparable. Best of friends. I was best man at his wedding. I was the first to visit and bring cigars when his name sake was born. I held that kid when he was just minutes hold. Went to all his birthday parties. Grade eight graduation, high school graduation. Academy graduation. He is…he was…like a son to me. Somewhere along the lines, we lost that. Did you know that your husband comes from a long line of NYPD royalty?"

Sam nodded and sipped her champagne. "His father, his grandfather. Several uncles. A few great uncles. I know that the last name Flack is legendary in the department. And that he's had some unbelievably big shoes to fill."

"And he's filled them," Gerrard concluded. "Admirably. He's filled them and then some. Your husband…Don…is a major asset to the NYPD. I'll refrain from using the term Golden Boy. I know how both of you just cringe when someone uses those words. But there's something you need to understand. If you don't already. Don…he has something special. Something that the family members before him never had. Even his father. And that's the gift of empathy. He has a gift. He's exceptionally good at his job. I've never seen better. He's firm and assertive and aggressive. He tolerates no b.s. and doesn't hand any out. He's seen a lot for his young age. He's coped with a lot. And through all of that, he's never lost his ability to feel. To sympathize with the victims and their families. And that, to have the ability to still have compassion while on the job, to still be human, is incredible. He comes from good stock, but he's in a league of his own. And I hope you realize and appreciate the kind of man he is."

"I know what kind of man he is," Sam said, touched by Gerrard's uncharacteristically eloquent words. "Especially outside of the job. He's an incredibly sensitive, kind hearted, wonderful man. I'm blessed that I'm able to see, and know the real Don Junior. The husband that took care of me and never left my side while I was ill in the hospital. Who would defend me at all costs. The father who walks the floor for hours trying to comfort his colicky baby despite the fact he just walked in the door after working a triple. Who never complains about being tired and whose eyes light up every time he picks up his son. I'm lucky to have him in my life."

Gerrard finally showed the hint of a smile. "I want you to know that I really noticed a change in him once he got married and became a father. A change for the better. He grew up. And that was a long time coming."

"I like to think that we both grew up," Sam said. "That we helped each other mature. We've been through a lot and we've shown that we can get through anything. And there are no words to describe to you how proud of him I am. When I think about everything that he's achieved…he deserves this. He deserves this night. And I have you to thank for making it happen."

The Inspector arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"I know what you did for him. How you convinced Chief Sinclair to give Donnie the promotion to Sargent. I know that he didn't do well on his test. At all. And that Chief Sinclair was going to tell the commissioner to not allow the promotion to go through. If it wasn't for you, this night wouldn't be happening. So…" she offered her hand. "Thank you."

He reached across the table and gently and warmly shook the hand offered to him. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye," he said.

"That's an understatement," she laughed. "And don't take it personally. I seem to have that issue with a lot of people."

Another smile tugged at his lips. "You should get inside," he told her, as he got to his feet and standing behind her, pulled her chair away from the table. "I've kept you long enough."

She looked up at him and gave a smile of her own before standing up. "Thank you," she said. "For saying all those things. Maybe one day, you'll be able to say it to the person who deserves to hear it."

"One day," he assured her. "I think it's something we should all learn to do. Say the things we need to say before it's too late and we're left with nothing but regret. That's something we should all do. It's a terrible thing to wake up and realize you'd used up all of your chances."

"Definitely not something I want on my conscience ," Sam said, picking up her champagne flute. "There's a lot I need to change in my life," she solemnly admitted.

"You're young," Gerrard reminded her "You have lots of time. Lots of chances to do things differently."

She nodded and smiled. "It was lovely talking to you, Inspector," she said.

"You as well," he responded, and watched as she turned on her heel and headed towards the entrance of the ballroom. A broad, genuine smile slowly spreading across his face as he finally realized something very, very important.

Donald Flack Junior had definitely done something amazing with his life.

* * *

"There's a familiar face," Stella commented, beaming brightly and getting to her feet as Samantha approached the table where she and Mac sat talking to Flack. "We were starting to wonder if you'd run off with someone tall, dark and handsome," she teased, embracing the petite brunette warmly. "I know what a sucker you are for anyone in a uniform."

"Dress blues get me every time," Sam laughed, and the held her friend out at arm's length. "Check you out," she said, giving a low whistle of appreciation as she admired Stella's elegant up-do and her sexy, yet sophisticated plum coloured, crepe Grecian style gown and matching pumps. "Mac's going to be beating all the guys off with a stick. You look fabulous. Not that that's anything new when it comes to you."

"Not like you're anything to sneeze at either," Stella commented, eyeing Sam from head to toe. "Look at you! You look beautiful!"

"Thanks…" Sam blushed slightly, never the one to take compliments easily. "I wish I still didn't look six months pregnant though."

Stella waved it off. "It's going to take some time, kiddo. You had a lot of problems. You really didn't expect to just wake up the morning after he was born and weight a hundred pounds soaking wet, did you?"

"I wish!" she laughed. "I haven't been a hundred pounds since I was twelve. You've seen my employee file, Stell. You know it's about twenty five pounds higher."

"The day you weigh a hundred twenty five pounds is the day pigs fly," the other woman declared.

"Oh look!" Sam cried, pointing towards the patio. "There goes a little porker right now! Wearing a cute little cape and tights! On his way to save the city from evil!"

"Okay smart ass," Stella laughed. Then hugged the smaller woman once again. "God I miss you at work. Hurry up and come back, okay? Who do I have to keep me amused? Who else do I have to make me laugh when I walk by the trace lab and find them listening to an Ipod, singing off key and dancing around?"

"Adam?" Sam suggested. "He's the comedian in the family."

"I think you're both in contention for top prize in that," Mac commented, catching the tail end of their conversation as he and Flack both stood up. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss to both of Sam's cheeks.

"Admit it Mac, us Ross siblings keep you young," Sam teased.

"You two give me grey hair is what you do," he laughed. "If it's not Adam and his ramblings and his Second Life battles, it's you tackling perps in back alleys and catching elbows in the face."

"And you wonder why I have all this grey hair at such a young age," Flack said, playfully winking at his wife before laying a hand on the small of her back and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"That's it Flack," Stella punched him playfully in the stomach. "Blame it all on her. Instead of all those wild and crazy girlfriends you had before her. Blame it on the one person who finally succeeded in taming you."

"Jesus Stell," Flack frowned. "Do you really have to say that out loud? That she tamed me? I've got a reputation to uphold here."

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "The minute that ring went on your finger and you signed that licence, any reputation you had went down the toilet."

"Are you listening to this, Mac?" the detective asked him. "Are you listening to your future wife and what she's spewing? Aren't you just a little bit afraid?"

"A little," Mac joked, smiling tenderly at his fiancee before pecking her cheek. "But a little bit of fright is worth a lifetime of love."

Flack's eyes widened as he regarded Stella. "What in the hell have you done to him?"

Sam elbowed her husband playfully in the stomach. "Ignore him. This is a guy that has absolutely no game and can't appreciate a sweet, romantic gesture."

"Yes I can," Flack argued, feigning hurt. "A sweet, romantic gesture is how your son came about."

"No…that was a drunk, unromantic gesture," Sam corrected with a laugh. "You're delusional. And check you out, Mac. You're looking quite dashing this evening. No wonder Stella's keeping a tight reign on you."

"I'll be reigning you in if you don't get your Marine Mac crush under control," Flack playfully warned her, then chuckled as he avoided a second elbow to the gut.

"So are you getting nervous, Mac?" Sam asked. "Two weeks to go."

"Fourteen days until you strap on that ball and chain," Flack said with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

"Hey! I happen to be a very attractive, sexy ball and chain!" Stella informed him. "If you ask me, both of you putz' are lucky to have us. Look at all these fine specimens walking around. We could easily go around the room right now and in ten minutes have two dozen phone numbers a piece. But instead, we're content being here with you two. Count your lucky stars, gentlemen. Come on Sam. Let's grab some champagne and discuss MY wedding."

The two women linked arms and wandered off.

Flack and Mac looked at each other. The detective smirked. The crime lab boss raised his eyebrows.

"You're scared now, aren't ya," Flack stated, giving a knowing nod.

"Honestly, Don, I think anxious is the more correct term to describe how I'm feeling," the older man said, watching as Stella and Samantha met up with Jessica Angell and her date for the night - a prominent politician twice her age and just coming off a high profile divorce- at the main entrance of the ballroom.

The three women gave their obligatory squeals of delight, sized up each other's appearances and showered each other with compliments, and hugged tightly. Mac turned to Flack, quizzical eyebrow arched at the sight of Sam and Angell, once arch enemies, embracing.

"Oh they're besties now," Flack explained. "Surreal, huh? The ex and the wife hanging out together? Makes me cringe when I think about what they could be saying about me when they get together. Like what could they be doing when they're hanging out? I came home the other night and Angell was over and I could hear her and Sam laughing all the way down at the elevator. Second I walked in, they shut up. That can only mean one thing. They were talking shit about me. Comparing notes or something."

"I think that's just a little bit paranoid," Mac said, as the two men took a seat once again at the table and returned to their drinks. "Is it just me or is Samantha softening up just a little bit?"

"Christ, Mac. Don't ever let her hear you say that," Flack chuckled and took a sip of his JD on the rocks. "I don't know if she's softening up. She's always had that real girlie, dainty way about her once you get past that tough Brooklyn girl crap she wants people to see. I think she's just…I don't know…I think she's lonely. It can't be just me and Kieran all the time. She needs friends. Her and Carmen are still tight, just things haven't been the same since Speed left. Well, since K was born really. They'll be alright though. They're working on it."

"Good. And you know that Stella and I are always here for the both of you, right?"

Flack nodded.

"Do you think maybe it's post-partum?" Mac asked gently.

"Depression? Sammie? I doubt it. She doesn't seem that way to me. She doesn't seem down or anything. A little mother hen protective when it comes to both me and K, but not depressed. She's doing really well, Mac. She's an amazing mother. K's her whole life."

"And you?" Mac asked. "I know it's been two months. But things have been so crazy at work that I haven't gotten the chance to ask how you're feeling."

"I'm good," Flack told him. "I'm doing good. I love being a dad. Kieran's my boy, Mac. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him. Or for my wife."

"But…I sense a but coming on here."

"But…and I'm going to sound like a complete asshole for saying this…but I miss Sammie. Or I miss what we could have had. The time that we could have had together. Just the two of us. Things happened so quickly between us. We never really got a chance to…" Flack sighed heavily and took a swig of his drink. "We never got a chance to be together as a couple. With no one else in the picture. We went almost straight from dating each other casually to being a serious thing. And no sooner did that happen, we found out that she was pregnant. And that was our fault. We should have been more careful. But at the same time, had we been, Kieran wouldn't be here and I wouldn't give my son back for anything in the world."

"It's perfectly understandable to miss what you had. Or miss what you could have had," Mac assured him. "Like you said, things happened quickly. Very quickly in fact. Don, in less than a year you became a husband and a father. That's a lot of adjustment for one person. So it's normal if you have some regrets."

Flack shook his head firmly. "No regrets," he said. "They're not regrets, Mac. I don't regret a thing. I don't regret meeting Sammie and falling in love with her. I don't regret having Kieran or getting married. It's definitely not regrets. They're my world and I can't imagine not having either of them in my life. No regrets…just wishes I guess. To have one thing but have another. If that makes sense."

Mac nodded.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Flack grumbled. "Now I look like a major prick."

"You're human, Don. It's okay to have doubts. To make mistakes. To feel scared. No one is perfect. This isn't a television show where the characters don't have faults. Or some kind of novel or story where the main characters are picture perfect and everyone else around them messes up while they stay untarnished. This is real life. With real things at stake. And if anything, you being honest like this, with not just me but with yourself? If anything I respect you more for that. For not hiding it away."

"I just miss Sammie," the detective admitted. "I miss having just her around. As selfish as it sounds, I miss when it was just me that was the centre of her life. Christ…I don't know…" he downed the rest of his drink quickly. "I'm talking a lot of shit here. I shouldn't have started in on it all. I'm sorry. Ignore me."

"Don, if you need to…"

"So things are going good?" Flack asked, anxious to change the subject. "Wedding wise and all of that?"

Mac nodded and finishing his drink, waved a waiter over to the table and placed an order for both himself and Flack. "I'm glad that we just went with something really small," he responded to Flack's question. "I don't think either of us could have handled the preparations of a big wedding with the full plates we have professional wise. And really, something quiet and small…it just seemed to suit us more."

"Quiet and small seems to be the way to go," Flack said. "I like that Sammie and I went that way. I mean, a big thing would have been okay, too. I would have killed to see her in a white dress and a veil. The whole nine. But the way we did things was good for us. Especially at the point our lives were at with the baby coming. You and Stella thinking about having any kids?"

"Let us get past the wedding first, okay Flack?" Mac chuckled. "Kids would be nice. Really nice. Just we're not getting any younger and things get harder the older you get."

"Just means you gotta get down to brass tactics," Flack reasoned. "Stella want to have kids?" he asked.

"Stella was ready to have kids YESTERDAY," Mac replied. "The sooner the better as far as she's concerned. Seeing Kieran born and spending time with him…it's made her desire to be a mother even stronger."

"Kid needs some cousins, Mac," Flack laughed. "I can't sit back and rely on Messer when he's too busy trying to figure out what to do with his life. One day it's Erica, next it's Lindsay. On and on an on. It's ridiculous. Either or. Not both. And personally? Personally I think he needs to just leave the past where it belongs. In the past. Concentrate on what he has right in front of him. That's my opinion."

"Sometimes the past has a way of sneaking into the present whether we want it to or not," Mac said. "It's up to Danny to figure out his life. And up to us to support him."

"We gotta draw the line somewhere. He's my best friend and I love the guy like a brother. But somewhere I need to step back and concentrate on my own life and stop bailing him out of jams so much. It gets…repetitive. Tiring. Things change, Mac. Life changes. And I've got a family I need to worry about now. I need to step back from other things and concentrate on my priorities."

"And I'm sure Danny will understand that," Mac told him. "One day."

"One day," Flack sighed.

Mac paused before saying anything else as the waiter brought over their drinks. Both men nodded in appreciation and picking up their glasses, toasted each other silently.

"Speaking of the past sneaking up on us," Mac said, swirling the ice around in his drink. "You won't believe who called me yesterday. At the office."

"Just tell me it wasn't that nut job Drew Bedford," Flack implored. "Or that you don't have some other stalker after you."

"Nothing like that," the older man chuckled. "It was Peyton."

Flack arched his eyebrows.

"She wanted to catch up," Mac said. "And wanted to know if there was an opening at the ME's office."

The detective nearly choked on a sip of JD and coughed noisily. "What did you say?"

"I told her that there was a spot open and Sid would love the help. But that I didn't think it was appropriate to bring her back. Mind you, that would be Sid's ultimate decision. If she contacted him and he wanted to bring her back on board, that's his business. I just told her I felt it wasn't right."

"You tell her about you and Stella?" Flack asked.

Mac nodded. "She congratulated me. Asked me to pass on her best wishes to Stella. And she seemed genuinely happy for us. Then she told me she missed me. Missed us. And that she'd made a huge mistake by staying in London and giving us up."

"Her loss was Stella's gain though," Flack reasoned. "If she hadn't have left, if things had have stayed the same, you and Stella wouldn't be where you are now. And no offence Mac, but if you had have stuck with Peyton and ruined your chance with Stella, I would have had to seriously kill you."

Mac chuckled. "Stella and I were meant to be. I truly believe that. And I told Peyton that too. That a year ago, I would have been begging her to come back. That I would have been telling her I missed her too and professing my love for her. But now…things have changed. I've changed. But there's the proof that the past doesn't always stay there."

"True.." Flack said with a nod. "But if my past ever comes back like that…I don't know…that's the kind of drama I don't need in my life."

"What are you two going on about?" Stella asked, as she and Sam returned to the table. She laid her hands on Mac's shoulders as she stood behind his chair and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Life and love," Mac replied. "About the women we have in our lives and wouldn't trade for anything in the world."

"Oh I don't know about that," Sam mused as she sank into the chair alongside of her husband and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her temple. "I think Donnie would trade me in for Rachel Bilson in a heartbeat."

"Not a chance," he told her and covered her lips with his in a soft kiss. "You're stuck with me babe," he said, pecking her forehead. "Through thick and thin. Till death do us part and all that other crap."

"Crap," she laughed. "So romantic, Don."

"You didn't marry me for my romance," he reminded her.

"No…I didn't…" she said, and smiling tenderly at him, laid her hand on his cheek and ran her thumb across his top lip. "There were a lot of other reasons."

"Yeah? Maybe later you can tell me what they are."

Her smile broadened and she leaned forward in her chair and pressing her lips to his ear, whispered softly to him.

Flack grinned. "I'm going to hold you to that," he informed her. "I'm looking forward to it, too."

"So am I," she said, and sipped her champagne.

His smile softened as he laid a hand softly on her knee and regarded her affectionately. He was looking forward to a lot of things with her. To life with her.

A life with no regrets.

* * *

**Thanks to all of my readers, friends, fans, reviewers, lurkers. Just thank you all for all of your support and kind words! I hope to hear from all of you! Flamers need not waste their time. Life's too short for the drama so keep it to yourselves please and thank you. **

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall**

**Laplandgurl**

**much madness**

**Shadowrose666**

**DeliriousNYC**

**Bluehaven4220**

**Laurzz**

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**Forest Angel**

**Wolfeylady**


	113. Who will see me through?

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF IT CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND DANIEL, MACKENZIE, MIKAYLA AND OF COURSE KIERAN. WHO WAS THE FIRST K TO EXIST. HE'S EXISTED FOR OVER A YEAR AND THAT OTHER K…WELL I JUST FELT THE NEED TO DEFEND MY OC'S. **

**THIS IS A FUTURE CHAPTER. SO GRAB THE TISSUES**

**HUGE THANKS TO MY GIRL CASS. FOR EVERYTHING.**

**AND TO ALL OF THOSE SENDING ME THEIR WELL WISHES!**

* * *

**Who will see me through?**

"If I only had two words left to say to you.  
With my last breath I'd confess the truth to you.  
You've never left my side.  
Even when I fell behind.  
Thank you.  
Thank you  
For sharing all your love and all your dreams.  
Thank you for every tear of happiness I've cried.  
Thank you.  
For laying down beside me here tonight.

When I close my eyes I say a prayer for one more day with you.  
And when I wake, I embrace, the one who pulls me through; who pulls me through the storm when I can't go on.

Thank you. Thank you for the life you've given me.  
Thank you for sharing all your love and all your dreams.  
Thank you for every tear of happiness I've cried.  
Thank you for laying down beside me here tonight.

You've never let me down.  
It's like you don't know how.  
Thank you. Thank you for the life you've given me.  
Thank you For sharing all the love and all your dreams.  
Thank you.  
Thank you."  
-Thank You, Johnny Reid

* * *

_For my wife on Mother's Day_

Flack tried vainly to swallow around the massive lump of emotion that formed in his throat at the sight of those six simple words. Raised burgundy calligraphy on a cream coloured card, the front of which boasted a beautiful image of a bouquet of roses done in water colours. Light mauve, baby blue, pastel yellow and pink. Sam had always loved white champagne roses with pink trim around the tops edges of the petals. And every birthday of hers that they had celebrated, every Valentines Day and every Mother's Day since Kieran was just an infant, he'd always made it a point to send the flowers to either home or work. He'd never included a card with them. She didn't need one. The roses were something personal between them. Something she'd always been able to associate with him. He was the only one who'd ever purchased them for her. Other men in her life that had come before him had always disregarded her favourite and instead sent her long stemmed red roses or solid pink. Or, in an effort to impress her, sought out the relatively rare and overly priced blue roses.

Sam had always accepted them with a gracious smile and a polite thank you, but she had told Flack -after she'd pointed out the roses during a walk through and outdoor market on the lower east side shortly after they'd gotten together- that she'd always been left feeling disappointed. No matter how beautiful the flowers actually were. That while she appreciated the sentiment, what she would have appreciated more was someone that took her likes and dislikes into consideration. Someone who didn't try too hard to make an impression. He'd seen the way her eyes lit up when she plucked a bouquet up from its display and holding them to her face, inhaled deeply. He'd noticed how she enjoyed something so simple. And he realized that he wanted to be the guy that made the biggest impression in her life.

He'd bought the flowers right there and then.

And so began their three times a year 'ritual'. Each time she was excited even more then the last. The novelty never wore off, and the huge smile and her sparkling eyes and the bear hug and the kisses he'd received in thanks were all the thank you he'd ever needed.

What he wouldn't give to feel her arms around his torso. To bury his lips in her hair as she rested her head against his chest. To breathe in her soft, alluring scent. To taste her kiss.

Even just for one last time.

_You're fine, Flack,_ he assured himself. _You're going to be fine. Every day that passes is going to get easier. One day you're going to wake up in that empty bed and not feel so lonely. One day it won't hurt so fucking bad. Your heart won't feel so goddamn empty. You'll be able to look at her_ _picture or say her name without nearly crumbling._

He wondered when that would happen. And even if he wanted it to happen. He was worried that when the pain finally began to subside, that his memories of her would also. Every day that passed since her death, Flack worried about waking up one morning and simply not remembering her. Aspects of her. He worried that he wouldn't be able to recall what her lips had felt like against his own. That he'd forget what those small, warm hands had felt like while they roamed his body or combed through his hair or gently cradled his face. He was scared he'd forget her smell. The scent of baby powder that lingered on her skin. She'd always liked spreading it over her body after a bath or shower. And he loved it. Along with the vanilla honey shampoo she'd been using for years.

He fretted that he'd forget her voice. Over the last decade, he'd often teased her about her Brooklyn accent. It had been embedded deeply enough inside of her to survive nearly sixteen years in Arizona and he'd often chided her about how when she was angry or drunk it was almost impossible to understand her.

And he worried that he'd forget her laugh. That musical, heart warming giggle that had filled his life for so long. That had always succeeded in bringing smiles to everyone's faces, eve on the darkest, most trying days. A giggle that the twins and Mikayla possessed.

Most of all, he worried that he'd forget what their love had felt like. That one day he would find that he'd forgotten what it had felt like to have been loved by her. To have shared so much with her. To have climbed so many mountains and to have fought so hard to keep things together.

As long as the pain remained, so did all of his recollections of her. And to Flack, keeping her close was far more important than sparing himself emotional agony.

Sighing heavily, he blinked back tears and ran a fingertip over the lettering on the front of the card. Mother's Day had been a month and a half ago. It had been the kids' idea six weeks ago to make their mother cards and go and visit her at her 'special place'. At the time, Flack had agreed to take them to the grave site. He'd stood at the kitchen table, supervising the boys -the twins mostly, because Kieran, who was convinced being nine made him a man, had insisted that making a card was babyish and all but demanded his dad give him the money to buy mommy a card- while they sat at the table surrounded by pieces of construction paper in a wide variety of colours, glitter, craft beads and scraps of white lace that Grandma Flack had brought over. They were remnants of an old table cloth she'd had, and when Daniel had told her about their 'project', she had thought that the lace would be the perfect touch on cards for their mommy.

"Reminds me of a princess," Daniel had declared, as he fingered a piece of the dainty fabric. "Just like mommy. Mommy was pretty like a princess."

"Prettier," Mackenzie had piped up. "Prettier then all the princesses in the world."

Flack could vividly remember being taken back by the words that had come out of Mackenzie's mouth. Out of the twins, he was the strong, silent type. While Daniel constantly asked to see photos of his mother and always wanted his father to talk about her, Mackenzie staunchly shied away from said activities. He insisted that he knew what mommy looked like and didn't need to see pictures.

And he refused to be in the same room when his dad talked to Daniel about her. While Daniel's outward displays of anger and grief -the biting of himself and other kids, the ripping out of hair (when he had hair that was), the fighting and the violent outbursts deeply concerned Flack, so did Mackenzie's silent approach to mourning his mother. The kid showed…nothing. Zero emotion. And on the rare occasion his son did talk about his mom, it was with a cold, harsh tone. She was gone and that was that. And if he showed a glimmer of sadness and Flack attempted to console him, Mackenzie became angry and stomped out of the room.

So it had startled Flack to hear his son say something so…nice…about his dead mother. And in a gentle, quiet voice at that.

The moment had been fleeting however. When he'd walked behind Mackenzie's chair and laid a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, the little boy had shoved his dad's hand off of him and tossed the kids' craft scissors in his possession onto the table and then proceeded to angrily sweep all of the beads and lace and ribbon and glue stick onto the floor. Then he'd bolted off of his chair and took off out of the kitchen. His footsteps soon thundering up the stairs and the slamming of his bedroom door echoing throughout the house.

Flack had calmly and patiently cleaned up the mess. He'd gathered up every last bead off the floor and placed them in an empty margarine container and put the lid on it. The lace and ribbon he'd gently slipped into a plastic sandwich bag. And then he'd taken both the container and the bag, along with Mackenzie's half finished card and scissors and glue, and set them in the rubber maid tote box that said on the floor in the pantry.

Sam had called it the Tickle Trunk. After the chest Mr Dressup had kept his costumes in on his show. The kids had always liked to make crafts and she'd built up quite the stash of goods. Drawing paper, markers and both pencil crayons and the chunky type reserved for little kids, various coloured pipe cleaners, pom-poms and pieces of felt. She'd even tossed in mounds of old egg cartons, juice containers -to use to make bird feeders- a jar of googly eyes and another of buttons and several balls of coloured yarn. Finger paints and a wide variety of different themed stamps and coloured ink.

And an obscene amount of popsicle sticks. He'd laughed as he'd caught a glimpse of them, remembering a time she'd 'demanded' that he help her polish off half a box of popsicles because the boys needed the sticks to make a craft at camp the next day. He'd been sitting out on the deck when she'd walked out with the carton and he'd commented how it would have just been easier to go to Wal-Mart and buy them from their art supplies section.

"But what fun is there in that?" she'd asked, and slapped a popsicle into his hand.

Flack had sighed and unwrapped the frozen treat as she took a seat alongside of him on the top steps of the deck, the box of popsicles on the step below. He could still remember -nearly a year later- that it had been a disgustingly humid and uncomfortable night. It had been after midnight and he'd been unable to sleep. Air conditioning after too long caused his arthritic knees and his bad back to ache, and they'd long ago resorted to sleeping with their bedroom windows open and air conditioners in just the kids' rooms. He'd gone out onto the deck to have a smoke and a couple of beers -having falling off the wagon yet again- and had left Sam in the kitchen with her lap top paying bills on line.

He could even remember what she'd been wearing. A pair of purple, pink and white striped satin ladies boxer shorts and a purple satin halter style top. Just another little sexy yet sweet number she'd bought at Fredrick's of Hollywood. Her hair, just below her shoulders at that time, had been put back and held in a makeshift bun with bobby pins. The slight breeze had been tousling the loose tendrils that were dangling at the back of her neck. He remembered that he'd been unable to resist leaning sideways and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. She'd giggled. It had been on of her most sensitive spots.

He'd watched as she peeled open the wrapper on her cherry popsicle and popped it into her mouth. Then he'd looked down at the grape one in his hand and frowned.

"You know that's my favourite, Sammie," he'd said. "How come I get the shitty purple kind?"

She'd just shrugged and proceeded to use the tip of her tongue to skim the entire length of the popsicle.

He'd physically shuddered while watching her. Knowing that she was doing it to get him worked up. She'd always been able to do a hell of a good job at that. "Come on, baby," he'd said, and bending his head, pressing kisses along her shoulder. "You know how much I like that kind."

"And you have a grape one," she'd told him. "So suck it up and eat it."

"I'd rather you suck it up," he'd chuckled. "Literally."

She'd rolled her eyes and called him a pervert. Then broke her popsicle in half and gave him a section. "Suckie Baby…" she'd teased, and stuck her tongue out at him.

That simple act, mixed in with the unbearable heat and the sheer sexiness of her neck exposed, her satiny skin on display and the little beads of sweat that glistened on her shoulders, had done something to him. He'd grinned, snatched the popsicle out of her hand and tossed it and his aside. Grabbing her, he'd kissed her, his mouth and tongue devouring hers, her slight frame no match against his strength as he pushed her down onto her back on the deck.

"Kinky," she'd giggled, her hands fisting in his hair, a soft moan escaping her as his lips found her neck.

To spare the neighbours the thrill of a free show, they'd taken things inside and up to their bedroom. Once behind closed doors, hot and steamy sex had been made even more so because of the insanely hot temperature in the room. Sex…love making…whatever you wanted to call it, had always been their favourite past time and number one stress reliever. They enjoyed it. Immensely. And would partake in it as much as possible. In Sam, he'd found a sexy, sensual woman. At the start of their relationship, she'd been somewhat inexperienced and meek and mild during sex. He had effectively turned her into his own personal sex goddess. He couldn't get enough of her and vice versa.

That night it had been a quick, almost rough coupling. She'd raked her nails painfully down his back and cried out into his shoulder. And afterwards, after he'd spent himself inside of her and they lay together in their rumpled bed, bodies drenched in sweat, their hearts pounding and her head resting on his chest as he stroked her damp hair -most of the bobby pins had fallen out and littered the bed and floor- she'd suddenly giggled and raised her head to look at him.

"What's so funny?" he'd asked, pushing her hair away from her face.

"Detective Flack…" she'd drawled in a sultry voice as she pressed kisses along his collarbone and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. "You're every one of my wildest sex fantasies come true."

He'd laughed at that. And he still laughed a year later.

Even if that laugh did come out sounding like a choked sob.

Flack looked down at the card on the counter before him. He had purchased it over a month ago and had had every intention of singing it, maybe even writing a little love letter inside of it, and taking it to the cemetery along with the cards the kids had so lovingly created. Only when the time had come on Mother's Day morning, with the kids already dressed in their Sunday best and anxiously awaiting their visit with mommy, Flack had chickened out. He'd literally been standing where was now, at the island in the middle of the kitchen, fully dressed in a crisp pair of khakis and a white dress shirt and he'd suddenly decided not to go. He couldn't do it. Emotionally he wasn't ready. It was their first Mother's Day without her and his shattered heart just couldn't bear to acknowledge it. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing his kids breaking down at their mother's grave. And he couldn't take the risk of breaking down along with them. So instead, he'd broken their hearts by telling them he couldn't take them to see her. That maybe when he wasn't so sad he'd be able to do it.

Now he was able to. Or he at least thought he was.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he released it slowly and then flipped the card open. He'd hadn't even had the courage to sign it a month ago. He remembered the way he'd drummed the fingers of his right hand nervously against the counter top as his left hand gripped the pen so hard his knuckles turned white and plastic threatened to snap.

Just like he was doing right now.

_Get a grip,_ _Flack,_ he ordered himself. _You can do this. You know you can. Just write down what's in your heart. What you're feeling. You can do it._

_You have to do it._

Sighing once again, he put pen to rose coloured paper.

_Every day I thank God for the day you were born and the years that I got to spend with you. I had never been so proud of anything in my life until I was able to call you my wife and the mother of my children. I love you. I miss you. I always will. Until we meet again…love, Don. _

He paused and re-read his words through the tears that threatened. Something didn't seem quite right with what he'd written. And then a small grin appeared on his lips as he once again returned the tip of the pen to the card. Quickly adding an I and an E to the end of his name.

Sam had been one of the few people who'd ever called him that. And somehow, every time she'd said Donnie, the more and more he liked it. Coming out of her mouth at least. And it was one of those things that he missed terribly. Hearing her say his name. Whether it be in casual conversation or when she was whining about something. Whether it was in an argument or during their intensely passionate moments. He missed it.

Terribly.

* * *

Shutting the card, he wiped a stray tear away with a finger and slipped the card into its pink envelope. He licked the flap and closed it, using the side of his hand to smooth out the wrinkles and shut it securely. Capping the pen, he dropped it onto the counter and set the card on top of the ones the kids had placed where he wouldn't forget them.

"Daddy!" Daniel called as scurried into the kitchen, skidding dangerously in his socks as his feet hit the tiles.

Flack reached out, grabbing a hold of the back of Daniel's white dress shirt before he could slam face first into the fridge. "You've got to be careful buddy," he said, pulling his son gently towards him. "How many times have mommy and…" he bit his bottom lip and corrected himself. "..how many times have I told you not to run in the kitchen? Especially with socks on? You could get really hurt."

"Sorry, daddy," Daniel hung his head sheepishly. "I forget. Sometimes my brain doesn't work. It's just…I need your help with something."

"What's that?"

Daniel picked up the ends of the blue and red striped tie that hung loosely around his neck.

Flack grinned at the sight of his little son. In his incorrectly buttoned dress shirt, wrinkled navy blue dress pants that were nearly an inch too short -he'd worn them to get family pictures taken, nearly a year ago now and he'd grown considerably- one black sock and one blue one. And that tie. It was Kieran's from his first communion and it was a mess from being tucked into a drawer since that day.

"You don't need to dress up buddy," he told Daniel gently. "We're not going to church or anything."

"I know…but I wanted to look nice to visit mommy in her special place," the little boy reasoned. "Mommy always calls me a handsome boy. So I have to look handsome."

"Well mommy calls you…" _Fuck,_ Flack thought. _When will that end? When will I stop talking in the present and get a grip on what happened?_ "Mommy called you that 'cause it's true. You are a handsome boy."

"Like you!" Daniel chirped. "Cute like daddy, smart like mommy."

Flack just smiled and gave a small nod, then crouched down on one knee in front of his son. "You sure you want to go dressed like this?" he asked.

Daniel nodded. "I have to look nice, daddy. Mommy deserves that. She hasn't seen me in a long while. She won't want me to look like a bum."

Flack didn't have the heart to tell him that in his mismatched socks, too short pants, wrinkled shirt and his stained tie that that was exactly what he looked liked. He could tell, in Daniel's voice and eyes, that this moment meant a lot to him. And that he wanted it to be perfect. "Mommy will love how you look," he assured his son, then proceeded to unbutton the shirt and then button it back up properly. He flipped up the collar and wrapped the tie around Daniel's neck. And it struck him, as his hands quickly and efficiently tied that piece of fabric, how many times Sam had done it for him during the past decade. It was something so simply, but there'd been an incredible, indescribable amount of affection in the way she'd watch him getting dressed for work and then say nothing as she crossed the bedroom and stood in front of him. Reaching out, she'd lay her hands over his, halting his actions and then taking over the task. Maybe it was in the way she'd looked at him, her eyes never leaving his. Maybe it was in the way, when after she was done, she'd trail her fingers gently down his face and stand on her tip toes, her free hand on his chest as she puckered up for a kiss.

"Daddy?" Daniel's voice broke into his reverie.

"What buddy?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

"It's been a long time since mommy's seen me. Will she recognize me? What if she doesn't know who I am?"

"Mommy will always know who you are," Flack promised his son, and folding down the collar of the shirt, tightened and straightened the tie. "How can she not know you? She carried you in her tummy for nine months. You're her baby boy. There's no way she'd forget you, Daniel."

"But it's been so long, daddy…like a lifetime."

Flack nodded. It had in reality, only been just shy of three months since Sam had died. But to him, some days it seemed like just yesterday and other days it seemed like an eternity. And to a child…well thirty minutes seemed like a lifetime to them.

"I hope she doesn't get mad that I shaved my eyebrows off," Daniel said. "And that I got into a fight at camp."

"I'm sure she'll understand," his dad told him.

"I just don't want her getting mad," the little boy said fearfully. "I don't want her yelling at me when I haven't seen her in so long."

"Daniel…" Flack sighed heavily and laid his hands on his son's shoulders. "Listen to me…I know that we're going to see mommy in her special place. But she isn't…she isn't really there. Well she is, but she isn't."

The little boy cocked his head to one side, a perplexed look on his face.

"Mommy…." Flack chose his words carefully. "Mommy is dead, Daniel. Do you understand what I'm saying? The special place that she's in…just her body is there. Nothing else. She…her spirit is in heaven."

"But grandma said that mommy is sleeping in her special place," Daniel said.

"Mommy isn't sleeping," Flack told him, inwardly cursing his mother for making his job more difficult. "Mommy is dead. It means that she doesn't exist anymore. She's in heaven. With Grandpa Clint. She's an angel now. And we can't actually see her."

"But you said she was still here, daddy. That she was all around us. That's what you said."

"I meant that her spirit is all around us," Flack told him. "I didn't mean that…I know this is hard to grasp, Daniel. It's even hard for me to grasp, okay? But we've talked about this over and over again, buddy. Your mommy…she's gone. Forever. She's never coming back. And I know you miss her. And I miss her. So much. And I love her and I…" his voice broke and the tears threatened to overcome him. "I think we need to get going," he finished, steeling himself as he got to his feet. "Go and get your shoes and tell your brothers we're leaving. Ask Kieran to bring Mikayla downstairs with him."

"Daddy?" Daniel looked up at him, dark eyes wide and curious.

"What?" Flack asked irritably.

"You know it's okay to be sad, right? That mommy isn't here anymore. You know it's okay to cry, right? Daddies cry too, you know."

Flack gave a small nod and swallowed noisily. "Go upstairs," he ordered gently. "Please."

"It is," Daniel insisted. "Daddies are big and strong but they feel sad too sometimes."

"Please, Daniel…" he practically pleaded. "Just go…just go and finish getting ready. Okay?"

The little boy reluctantly nodded before turning on his heel and hurrying out of the kitchen.

Flack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Turning, he laid his hands on the ledge of the island, and dropping his chin to his chest, closed his eyes tightly.

_I can't do this,_ he thought, struggling to keep the sobs and the tears inside. _I just can't do this. I can't answer their questions and deal with their grief when I can't deal with my own. I just can't. I need help. They need help._

Composing himself, he opened his eyes and cleared his throat noisily before walking across the kitchen and snatching the cordless phone off of the top of the fridge. He stared at it for a few moments, debating whether to place the call or not.

_She probably doesn't want anything to do with me 'cause of the disaster of the other night, he thought. She probably thinks I'm a complete fucking ass for the things that I said to her. It was okay to turn her down but I could have been a little more gentle about it. She's hurting too and she was just trying to help. And you know that you can rely on her. She's dealing with some heavy shit too. But Sammie loved her. The kids love her. Suck up your pride and do it for your kids._

Giving a nod as he made his decision, he pressed talk and dialled the familiar number. Feeling slightly relieved when it went directly to voice mail.

"Jessie…" his voice cracked as he spoke. "I'm sorry for the other night and I…I never meant to be like that with you. But I…I need you. I need help and I didn't know who else to turn to. Please just…please just call me back. Please."

Flack disconnected the call and set the phone back on the fridge.

"Dad?" Kieran's voice came from the kitchen doorway. "Are you okay?"

Flack nodded and turned to face his oldest. Dressing in a pair of cargo pants and a yellow golf shirt, Kieran had a hold of Mikayla's hand as she stood beside him, dressed in a white cotton sundress with pink rosebuds sewn into the fabric, pink sandals and a white sunhat.

"Are you sure?" Kieran asked, concern in his voice and in his eyes.

"I'm sure, K," he assured his son.

"I got Mikki's diaper changed and I put her shoes and hat on," Kieran told him. "You want me to go and put her in her car seat?"

"Sure," Flack told him, and grabbing his keys off the top of the fridge where they sat by the phone, tossed them across the room.

Kieran caught them effortlessly. Then grabbing Mikayla's Strawberry Shortcake bag from the kitchen table, slung it over his shoulder and then scooped his sister up into his arms. "Let's go and get in the car, Mikki," he said, as he made his way out of the kitchen. "We're going on a car ride."

"Caw wide?" Flack heard Mikayla's tiny voice ask.

"Yep," Kieran told her. "We're going to go and take a ride and go see mommy."

"Mommy?" Mikayla's voice sounded hopefully.

"Mm-hm," her brother said. "We're going to visit her. You won't be able to see her though. But you'll be able to talk to her if you want. Then we're going to go over to grandma and grandpa's and have a barbecue. Sound like fun?"

"Wots of fun, K," Mikayla chirped. Then followed it up by a loud smacking noise.

"Ewww…" Kieran complained. "Gross, Mikki. You give wet, nasty kisses."

"You nasty, K," his sister informed him.

Flack couldn't help but chuckle. Journeying over to the island, he gathered up the cards from himself and the kids, noticing his two youngest sons as they scampered into the room together.

"You guys ready?" he asked. "You both go pee and all of that?"

The two boys nodded.

"You have to write mommy's name on that, daddy!" Daniel cried, as he noticed the pink envelope with nothing on it in Flack's hand. "Mommy won't know it's for her if you don't!"

Flack grabbed the pen off the counter, uncapped it and quickly printed his wife's name on the front of the envelope in big letters.

"And we can't forget mommy's cupcake!" Daniel exclaimed, rushing over to the fridge. Yanking it open, he gently removed a small, pink box from Weinstein's bakery in mid-town that held one chocolate with vanilla icing cupcake inside of it. The top of the treat bore a butterfly made of pink and yellow icing. Sam had loved the cupcakes from Weinstein's, and it had been Kieran who'd suggested they take her one. Even if it did go rancid sitting out in the sun for forever and a day.

"What's wrong, Mackenzie?" Flack asked, as he smoothed out the shoulders of his son's red golf shirt. The little boy had been pouting and sulky all day long, and his foul mood seemed to get worse as he watched his brother carry the cupcake box.

Mackenzie shrugged.

"Tell daddy what's wrong," Flack encouraged, as he combed his fingers through his son's hair.

"I wanted to carry mommy's cupcake," he said in a mere whisper.

"Daddy already said I could!" Daniel argued. "He said last night I could carry it!"

"How about you do something for me?" Flack asked Mackenzie. "Think you could do daddy a favour?"

"I suppose," Mackenzie huffed, eyes downcast.

"Here…" Flack held out the pink envelope. "Carry daddy's card to mommy. Can you do that?"

Mackenzie's eyes widened. "But it's your card, daddy!" he protested.

"I know…and I trust you enough to carry it for me. Think you can handle it?"

"Of course!" the little boy cried happily, and carefully removing the item from his father's hands, hurried excitedly out of the kitchen. Daniel tagging along slowly, carrying the cupcake ever so gently.

Flack sighed and looked down at the white gold wedding band on his finger.

_I'm getting there, babe, _he thought. _Slowly but surely I'm getting there._

"Come on daddy!" Daniel called from the front door. "We can't be late!"

Flack sniffled noisily and took a deep breath. Mentally preparing himself for the difficult step that lay ahead of him.

_Give me strength Sammie, _he prayed as he headed out of the kitchen.

_Just give me strength._

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of my fans! Even all the lurkers! Please R and R folks!**

**Special thanks to:**

**CSINYMinute**

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**muchmadness**

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**Soccer-bitch**

**Greg Rox**


	114. One shot Part 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.**

**A/N: THIS IS A FUTURE CHAPTER AND IS DEDICATED TO A READER OF MINE, ELLEN MARANDO, THAT REQUESTED IF I WOULD DO SOMETHING REVOLVING AROUND THE DAY THAT SAM WAS SHOT. SO I DECIDED TO DO IT IN TWO CHAPTERS. FLASHBACKS IF YOU WILL. THIS FIRST ONE IS FROM STELLA'S POV, AND THE SECOND STILL TO COME CHAPTER WILL BE FROM FLACK'S. SO THIS IS FOR YOU ELLEN! HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!**

**One shot (Part 1)**

* * *

"If I were to die today  
My Life would be more than Ok.  
For the time I spent with you  
Is like a dream come true.  
If this was a last goodbye  
No more tears to dry.  
I would say it one more time  
It's been more than fine.  
How could I have known?  
How could have shown?

Say what you will before it's too late.  
Say what you will.  
Say what you will  
Before it's too late.  
Say what you will.  
If you were to walk away  
Know you could stay.  
Think of all the times we've had.  
All the good, and the bad."  
-Say What You Will, Dahmnait Doyle

* * *

Stella tapped her foot impatiently, the bottom of her stylish black heels clicking noisily against the concrete. Her lips pursed tightly together, she peeled back the sleeve of her simple black cotton blouse and checked the graceful silver watch that adorned her wrist.

_Twenty five minutes, _she thought, shaking her head in disappoint and disdain. Anger simmered inside of her as she thought of the time that was being wasted. Not only by the failure of a CSI to actually show up to work on time, but the failure to secure proper backup. Two uniform officers did simply not equal enough man power to keep an eye on a three thousand square foot abandoned warehouse that only forty five minutes before had a 911 call lodged against it after a passer-by had heard a male and a female arguing inside, followed by a gunshot.

The responding patrolmen -the same two that now stood alongside of her, talking about last night's Yankees game and the olden days of Jeter and A-Rod while they awaited further orders- had done a complete sweep of the warehouse and found nothing save for what they described as a wadding pool of blood. There was no victim or spent shell casings. Not even a blood trail leading out of the building. And while Stella wanted to trust them when they gave their word that the entire building had been searched and secured, she knew that it was better to be safe then sorry. Instead of going in their blindly -and without a partner, she thought miserably- she instead had put in a call to ESU requesting that they send a team to comb the building and the area around it with a fine tooth comb while the CSIs could process and feel safe while doing it.

She'd been informed that because of a lack of available staff -just what had happened to everyone that they were either late that day or simply calling in sick?- there would be an hour wait, minimum, for the man power that she was asking for.

So she waited. Agitation and impatience slowly getting the better of her. A thumb poised over the buttons on the cell phone that was clasped in her hand. The first call she intended to make was a none to friendly one to Samantha Flack. Demanding to know where the hell she was and then asking if Samantha still wanted a job and the pay check that came with it going into the bank. Then she was going to call ESU back and threaten them with promises of calling the commissioner and getting him to light a fire under their ass. Of course, she'd face ridicule for that. She was married to the commissioner after all. And each and every time Mac got involved in a case or stepped out to the plate for the lab, she was constantly laughed at for having to rely on her husband to fix her problems.

_Least of my goddamn worries, _she thought, as raked her fingers through her hair and commenced pacing. _Right now I've got a quickly degrading crime scene that I don't know if it's safe to go into or not, and an employee that's AWOL. Despite the fact her shift started two hours ago and she'd promised over the phone that she was on her way to the scene. _

She glanced towards the end of the alley as the sound of tires crunching over strewn garbage captured her attention. She shook her head and planted her hands firmly on her hips and glared at Sam as she parked the SUV and killed the ignition.

"Traffic bad?" she asked, irritation seeping into her voice as the younger woman climbed out from behind the wheel of the Avalanche.

"Sorry…" Sam replied sheepishly, as she shut the driver's side door and opened the back one to remove her kit. "Donnie got home early this morning and he…"

"Made you late for work," Stella finished for her. "And I can only imagine how…"

"He needed some sleep so he could function properly with the kids," Sam explained, as she used her hip to close the door of the SUV and then walked towards her boss. "So I had to rush around and get myself ready and then Daniel and his morning routines…it was just family responsibilities Stella."

Stella nodded. She knew that Sam was lying. Sam was a horrible liar. Always had been and always would be. But she also wasn't one to discuss her personal life and bring it to work with her. And that was one thing that Stella had always respected about the younger woman. No matter how tough things were at home, no matter how many issues Daniel was having or how many arguments that she and Flack got into, Sam never brought her shit to work. The second she stepped through the door, no matter how badly she was hurting inside or how angry she was, she plastered a smile on her face and got down to business.

"Heard he caught a triple homicide in the Bronx last night," Stella said.

Sam nodded and tucked her shoulder length hair behind his ears. "He said it was a nasty ass mess. One of the worst he's seen since he started on the job. First thing out of his mouth when he walks in? 'Another day, another wack-adoo'. The boys have started calling people that now. Last weekend in Sunday School? The teacher talked about Pontius Pilate and his role in the crucifixion. Terrified the hell out of Daniel. When I picked them up afterwards, he was huddling in a broom closet and apparently had been there the entire time. And you know what the teacher tells me? About Mackenzie? About what he said when she talked about Pontius Pilate?"

Stella shook her head.

"Mackenzie called him a wacko-adoo. And a nut job. Now where do you think he's getting _that _from?"

Stella couldn't help but laugh. Despite the fact she was pissed that Sam had been so late for work and that ESU was handing her such a bunch of shit, it was hard not to smile and laugh when the little Brooklyn girl was around. It was that thick accent that had, after years of living in Flushing, had become tinged with the slightest touch of Queens. It was that musical giggle and the way Sam's nose and the corner of her sparkling golden brown eyes crinkled when she smiled. It was the way in which her entire face lit up with sheer pride whenever she talked about her husband and kids. Even if she was bitching and moaning about them.

"They're Flack's Sammie," she said. And immediately regretted it at the twinge of pain that had crossed the younger woman's face.

Everyone knew that the twins were Tim Speedle's. That piece of information had gotten around like wild fire after a uniform had heard Sam and Flack having it out in the precinct parking lot the night she decided to come clean about the affair and the possibility he wasn't the father of their unborn twin boys. The uni had listened to the entire thing. To every nasty, mean word that had spewed out of Flack's mouth. The threats he'd issued about taking Kieran away from her. The way he'd ordered her and her bastard children out of his house and out of his life. The uni hadn't been able to keep something like that to himself, and by the time Flack returned to work the next day, everyone was talking about it. Guys were coming to his desk and slapping him on the back and either offering their support and condolences for getting fucked over so bad, or telling him that he did the right thing by kicking the trifling bitch to the curb.

Stella didn't know how Sam and Flack had actually gotten over it. How they'd ever managed to still stay together after all that had been done and had been said. Neither of them ever talked about it. Even seven years later they didn't talk about it. But she did know that despite the fact they were living separately at the time -Sam in the house, Flack with his folks- that Flack had shown up at the hospital the moment Adam had called him to say that Sam was in labour and that he'd been there, right by her side, holding her hand through the whole thing. He'd cut the cords and signed the birth certificates. He'd been the one that brought the babies and Sam home from the hospital when it came time to be released.

He'd also been the one to take the initial step towards reconciliation. He'd simply just come home one day. Sam had been standing at the kitchen table, folding a basket of laundry while Kieran was at Adam's and her two month old twins slept nearby, side by side in their carry seats. She'd stood, shocked as her husband calmly walked into the room and set his bags down on the floor and not saying a word or even making eye contact with her, joined her at the table and began helping her fold baby clothes. She'd been terrified that he was there to tell her to get the hell out. That it was his house and she and her kids weren't welcome there. And she'd physically shook as eerily silent minutes dragged on. And when she couldn't take the tension anymore, she'd burst into tears and tossed the sleeper in her hands at him and asked what the hell he thought he was doing.

"Helping with the laundry," Flack had simply replied, and calmly folded the tiny item of clothing she'd tossed at him.

"You just walk in here after four months away and start helping with laundry? What in the hell…"

He had leaned across the table and laying a hand on the back of her neck, pulled her towards him and covered her mouth in a tender, lingering kiss.

"I just wanted to come home," he'd whispered, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

And that had been that. He'd walked back in and never walked back out. He'd accepted the boys as his own and concentrated on taking care of his wife and helping her raise _their _kids. It had been years later, while standing with Flack as he paced the hallway outside of Sam's hospital room as they waited for a the OB-GYN to exam her while in labour with Mikayla, that Stella had found out that her friends had gone through extensive therapy in an attempt to get over her infidelity and repair their marriage. She had commented about how far him and Sam had come after nearly being torn apart, and Flack had admitted not only to the therapy, but that forgiving and forgetting had been a long, trying road. That it still was. That there was part of him that would never recover from what she did. That there was still moments when he looked at his twin boys and was filled with animosity towards Sam and Tim Speedle.

But those moments were far surpassed by the times he looked at his wife and kids and was filled with the utmost love. They were his family and there was no way in hell he was ever abandoning his family.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Stella quickly apologized to her friend and colleague. "I didn't mean anything by that, Sammie. I just meant that he's…"

"He's their father, Stel," the other woman said. "He's raised them from the time they were two months old. He was there when they were born. He's daddy to them. And he's an amazing daddy."

Stella smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Of course they're going to pick things up from him," Sam added. "They're around him all the time. All the boys have his facial expressions and his mannerisms. Drives me goddamn nuts."

"Yet you wouldn't change any of them for anything in the world," Stella pointed out.

"No…" Sam grinned. "I wouldn't. They're my boys. Although I wish Don would get his head out of his ass and be just a little more romantic. And what is it that he can't grasp the simple concept of putting the lid on the toilet seat down? Ten years, Stel. We've been living together for a decade and that man still can't close the lid on the john."

"Maybe it think it's funny when you fall in at three in the morning," Stella reasoned.

"Maybe…but if he doesn't knock it off, I'm going to do that little saran wrap trick on him again. It's been eight years but it definitely needs a resurgence. I'm going to go in there one night, cover the entire bowl with plastic wrap and then go back to bed and lie in wait. And then, when he gets up and heads in there half asleep and takes a leak and it goes all over him? Well then and only then while I feel vindicated for the years of pain and suffering I have endured for that man."

There was a huge smile on Sam's face as she spoke. Despite her complaining that her husband could be more romantic and thoughtful and that he was often an arrogant, insensitive SOB, the truth of the matter was that she loved him and adored him. Wholly, completely and unconditionally. And she couldn't imagine her life without him.

"So what's going on?" Sam asked, casting a glance at the warehouse as she rocked back and forth on her heels. "The scene isn't clear yet?"

"The unis said they secured every room," Stella replied, nodding in the direction of the young officers. "But it's a big place and I doubt they could have went through the place that thoroughly."

"Well did you call ESU and ask for a team?" the younger woman asked. "Because the only thing that standing out here chatting is doing is compromising our scene. The body could go into rigor or any trace could be degraded or…"

"There is no body," Stella told her. "There's no nothing. No DB, no shell casings, nothing. Just a puddle of blood and no accompanying trail."

Sam furrowed her brow and her eyes narrowed. "Well how in the hell is that possible? The call was for reports of gunshots."

Stella nodded in agreement. "When the uniforms got here, there was no sign of the perp and there was no victim. Just the blood."

"But how does someone just walk out of there and not leave a trail of blood?" the younger woman was trying to wrap her head around the information. "I mean if there's that much of a pool, you can't simply get up out of it and walk away like nothing happened. And someone certainly can't pick a body up out of it without leaving some kind of trail. Or even footprints. It would be damn hard not to step in that much blood."

"It would be damn impossible," Stella said. "I don't know Sammie…this one…this one is really weird…"

"Well this is New York City," Sam reasoned cheerfully. "We should be used to weird by now. It things weren't strange and obscure, then I'd be really worried. So can I go in and start processing or…"

"I'm waiting on ESU. They're going to send a team to do a complete sweep inside and out. They're about half an hour TOA."

"Thirty minutes?" Sam frowned. "It's been nearly an hour if not more since the original call."

"They're backed up. Apparently everyone is either late or sick today."

"But if they're half an hour away…Stel it will take them at least an hour, if not more to do a complete and thorough sweep of the building and the area around it. That puts us at two hours and counting since the call went in to 911. You know how quickly down hill things can go. We can't wait that long to process. We need to get in there right now if we want to find anything that's worth using."

"We can't go in there, Sam. It's not secure and…"

"But the uniforms said that they'd cleared it. They wouldn't have said that if they hadn't have done that. Wouldn't you rather just go in there and process? You know what will happen to us if we get in there and find out later our samples are too graded? The brass will have our asses. Not to mention the shit storm it would cause when we tell them we couldn't go in 'cause of ESU sitting around with their thumbs up their asses. We've got two unis already on scene. They can watch the perimeter while we at least get started in there."

"Maybe I should call Adam," Stella said, her thumb hovering over the talk button on her cell.

"Adam's at Rikers," Sam told her. "He was leaving the lab just as I was getting there. Scagnetti needed him to head over there with him to talk to the guy they locked up for that Central Park stabbing three days ago."

"Was anyone else at the lab?" Stella inquired. "Danny? Alexis? Carmen? Did you see anyone?"

"Danny and Carmen are in Staten Island still. I talked to Carmen on my cell on my way here. She said they've got at least another three hours of work ahead of them. And I don't know where Alexis is. I didn't see her. We don't need anyone else, Stel. There's two of us. We can be in and out in record time."

Stella considered her options, tapping her foot once again and biting her lip pensively. "I'll call ESU and see what they're ETA is…"

Sam rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "While you're at it why don't you call Mac and see what he thinks about it."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Stella asked, anger seeping into her voice.

"It means that maybe you should call him for advice. He ran the lab for years. And in all his years he maintained our standing as the number two lab in the country. And since he's…"

"And since he's been gone and I've been in charge we've slipped down the ranks," Stella concluded.

"I never said that. It's just a transition. Things always slip a bit when new management takes over. Geez, Stel. Take a pill. I'd never say something like that about you. I'm just suggesting that maybe Mac could give you some guidance and…"

"I don't need Mac's guidance or his ideas or his suggestions," the older woman snapped.

Sam held her hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying…we're wasting a lot of time out here…"

"Fine…" Stella huffed. "Fine…you're in such a fired out hurry to get to work? I'll call ESU and find out their ETA and then we'll go in and process. Okay?"

"Whatever you think is best," Sam responded, giving a polite smile.

"You're not the boss Samantha. I am and you need to…" Stella sighed heavily as her cell phone rang noisily in her hand. "It's Constance," she barked.

"Well if it's Constance it must be important," Sam concluded. "'Cause the nanny never calls you at work. I hope the girls aren't in trouble or anything…"

"They better not be…I've got to take this…"

The little brunette nodded in understanding.

"You know what? I'll sort this and the ESU mess out and you go on in. Start processing and I'll join you in a second."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Sam laughed and snapped of a salute.

"Take a uniform with you!" Stella called to her, as the younger woman, heavy case in hand, headed for the entrance of the warehouse.

"I'm fine!" Sam responded, giving a wave over her shoulder before disappearing inside.

_Stubborn little bitch,_ Stella cursed inwardly and shook her head. _One day that's going to get you in a shit load of trouble, Sammie. And I hope I'm not around to witness it. And then have to say I told you so afterwards._

The cell phone clutched tightly in her hand stopped ringing as the call went to her voice mail. Erasing the number off of her call history, Stella dialled the number for her home and shoving her free hand in the pocket of her black slacks, walked slowly away from the warehouse in order to give herself some privacy. She could hear the uniform officers chatting away about sports and their girlfriends and what a crap deal it was to have to work on Sundays. She heard cars zooming down Lexington a block away. She heard the scraping of discarded pieces of newspaper as it the stiff breeze sent it dancing across the dirty alley. She heard the clanging of metal as transients a hundred yards down the alley searched cans for a meal and the shouting of a the Chinese restaurant owner at the opposite end as he chased a rat away from his back entrance.

She heard her Filipino nanny say Hello, Taylor residence in her thick accent.

And before Stella could respond she heard a gunshot come from inside of the warehouse.

She was immediately filled with the utmost sense of dread. Her cell phone slipped from her fingers and tumbled to the ground as she turned in time to see the uniform officers pulling their weapons from their holsters as they bolted away from their cruiser and rushed towards the door. Her heart thundered in her chest and bile rose in her throat as she upholstered her own weapon and hurried across the alley way and into the damp, dark warehouse.

"CALL EMS!" one of the uniforms screamed. He was hunkered down beside Samantha's prone, injured body as his partner, in shock at what he was witnessing, stood motionless above them. "DON'T JUST FUCKING STAND THERE!" the young man bellowed. "WE NEED EMS!"

Stella rushed over to where her colleague, her employee, her friend- lay in a rapidly spreading pool of blood in the middle of the warehouse's dirty floor. She tore the rookie officer's radio off of his belt and shoved it into his hands. The action snapping him out of his daze and spurring him into action. She stepped past him and stood, horror quickly spreading through her at the sight of Samantha lying there, a bullet wound to her chest, her eyes wide and terrified, her lungs struggling to draw breath.

The sound…the sound was horrific. The rattling of lungs as they quickly filled with blood. Stella had heard that sound only once before in her entire career and she'd never forgotten it. Sam's left hand was grasping at her chest, blood seeping between her fingers as the white gold of her wedding band and the diamond in her engagement ring sparkled in the dim light. Her right hand was reaching up to grab the young uniform trying so vainly to stop the flow of blood escaping from her wound.

"Samantha!" Stella dropped to her knees beside her. "Sam! Listen to me! You're going to be okay! EMS is on the way. You're going to be okay. Just lie still and breath slow. Nice and slow, kiddo."

She shook her head wildly and gasped loudly, fighting to breathe.

"Just relax…" Stella grabbed a hold of her friend's hand. "Just relax…you're going to be okay…everything's going to be okay…we'll get you to the hospital…stay with me, Sammie…just stay with me…"

"Guy ran out the back," the uniform on the other side of Sam's body told Stella. "We heard the door slam just as we got in here."

"Get a good look at him?" Stella asked, her comforting eyes never leaving Sam's face. Despite the fact she was terrified for her friend, she was determined to remain strong. Determined to see the younger woman through. No matter what the outcome. She wanted to remain optimistic. She wanted Sam to know she was going to be okay. Even if Stella wasn't so sure of it herself.

The uniform shook his head. "Just heard the door slam," he said.

"Sammie?!" Stella spoke loudly. Hoping to cut through the fog of unconsciousness, and perhaps even death, that was threatening to consume the injured woman. "Sammie! Don't you dare fall asleep on me! Don't you dare close your eyes, you hear me? I need you to stay with me! Do you understand me?"

Her eyes snapped open and she managed a nod.

"I know you're scared…but you're going to be okay…you're going to be fine….we're going to get you out of here and to the hospital…but something tells me that you won't be going to Ireland like you and Flack planned on…I think you're going to have to postpone that."

Sam nodded again, then coughed noisily. Blood trickling from the corners of her mouth.

"Where the hell is EMS!?" Stella screamed over her shoulder at the second uniform.

"They're on their way, m'am but…"

"No buts!" she shouted. "You get on that goddamn radio and you tell them that we need them now! Now goddamnit!"

Sam's nails cut painfully into Stella's hand, her heels dug into the cement floor as her entire body stiffened and she gasped noisily.

Leaning over her friend, Stella placed her lips near Sam's ear. "Hang in there, kiddo," she whispered. "Please just hang in there. You've got too much to lose. You've got a husband and four kids that need you. They need you, Samantha. Don't leave them like this. Not like this. Just hang in there."

"St…St…"

"Don't talk…don't try and talk…" tears flowed down Stella's face as she let go of Sam's hand and wrapped both arms around the smaller woman's neck. "You're going to be okay…everything's going to be okay…you're going to make it."

"How could this happen?" the uniform across from Stella asked. "How could this happen?"

Stella shook her head. She had no answers for that. For anything.

All she knew was that Sam had to make it.

She had to.

"Everything's going to be okay…" she managed through her sobs. Not caring how unprofessional she appeared. She was far beyond caring about maintaining her role of the fearless, faithful leader. This was her friend. The mother of her nieces and nephews. The wife of the man who'd always had her back no matter what. And she couldn't simply let Sam slip away. She couldn't let the kids' mother and Flack's wife go.

Letting her go was simply unacceptable.

* * *

Stella's breath left her body in a gut wrenching sob as she snapped awake. Tears coursed down her cheeks and smeared her makeup as she bolted into an sitting position. Gasping, she laid a hand over her mouth and fought to compose herself as she glanced around the confines of her office. Sunlight streamed through the window and bathed her in warmth. Outside, crime lab personnel hurried past. Their laughing and chatting filtering into the office as their lives continued on. There was work to. New and old cases that needed finishing up before they could go home for the day. And while they were busy and there was certainly never any rest for the weary, employee morale was beginning to pick up again. After Sam's shooting, a dark, ominous cloud had constantly lingered over head. It was all anyone discussed. They talked about the monumental mistake it had been going into an unsecured scene. About how tragic it was to lose a colleague. About how unfortunate and heartbreaking it was that Lieutenant Flack had had his wife ripped away from his so tragically. About how their kids didn't have a mother anymore.

Like anything, as the days and weeks and now months wore on, Sam's shooting had become old news. It had long ago failed to make it to the first ten pages of the newspaper, let alone the front cover. But to those who had truly loved her and valued her, life didn't completely go on. Her case file still remained on Stella's desk and Danny and Alexis' still revisited the evidence from time to time, hoping beyond hope that they'd stumble across something, anything that may shed new light on who had killed their friend. Adam had still not returned to work. The department psychologist refused to clear him fit for work and had instead sent Stella a very detailed letter suggesting that Adam may never be ready to go back if he didn't get further outside help.

He was shutting down. Closing himself off from the world. His grief for his sister and his inability to come to terms with his incredible loss were destroying him. Gus, just shy of three months pregnant, had left him and he was in danger of sinking even further into a pit of despair. No one seemed to be able to get through to him. Not Stella, who'd gone to his home many a time, only to spend nearly half an hour each time pounding on the door, begging him to let her in. Danny had physically dragged Adam to an appointment with a grief counsellor, only to have the other man punch him in the face and curse him out for his efforts. Hawkes had taken it upon himself, although not a member of the lab anymore, to contact the best counsellors and psychiatrists and personally arrange appointments. Appointments Adam had promised to show up at, but didn't.

And then there was Flack. Struggling with his own grief while trying to help his children come to terms with the loss of their mother. He was battered and broken emotionally and fighting to keep his family together while still managing to work and pay the bills. He refused to talk about how he was feeling, and even more staunchly refused any offers of help. Whether it be with the kids of with finances.

_He's always been a stubborn shit, _Stella thought, as she wiped the tears off of her face with the backs of her hands. She had somehow managed to fall asleep while sitting at her desk. In the middle of the day. She had gone into her office and sat down in hopes of getting rid of a vicious head ache that had been plaguing her all day. She'd hadn't had a decent night's sleep since Sam's shooting. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing Sam's terrified face. Without feeling the desperation in Sam's grasp as she held onto Stella tightly. Without hearing the gasps emanating from the younger woman's body. Most of all, she couldn't stop seeing that body going into convulsions and couldn't stop hearing her own voice screaming at the EMS to do something, anything. To not give up. To just help her friend.

"_It's time to stop worrying about how everyone else is coping and start worrying about how you're doing."_

Mac's voice rang loud and clear in her ears. Since the shooting, she'd been so consumed about how everyone else was doing that she'd forgotten to take the time to validate her own feelings. She'd shut her husband out. She'd become cold and distant towards him and their girls. She spent every waking moment working, with trying to find even the smallest clue that would point them in the direction of Sam's killer. She had ceased becoming a wife and a mother and had become a robot. Something that lived and breathed work. That forgot what sunshine on her face felt like it. What crisp air felt like when it was inhaled deeply into her lungs. What her husband's hands felt like as they so gently cradled her face. What his lips tasted like when he kissed her.

She had stopped living. Sam's death had nearly destroyed her and Stella didn't know how to recuperate. She didn't know how to rid herself of the guilt that plagued her. She didn't know how to get the sight of all of that blood out of her mind.

She didn't know how to let go of Sam's memory Simply because she'd never taken the time to do it. She'd been so obsessed with pursuing justice that she'd forgotten about the victim. A wonderful, beautiful friend who always found the silver lining in even the darkest cloud. Who always insisted that there was good inside of even the most horrible individual. Who always seemed to find something to laugh and smile about. And who always insisted, when she parted ways with anyone, that it wasn't goodbye. It was so long, or see you later.

Or goodnight.

But it is time to say goodbye, Stella thought, as her eyes fell on the frame photograph sitting on her desk. Tucked there alongside of her own family portrait, was one taken of Sam and Flack and their family. It had turned out to be Sam's last Christmas, A photographer had come to their home and after insisting that they all wear red sweaters and black pants, positioned them in front of the Christmas tree in the basement. Flack was kneeling behind his wife as she sat crossed legged with Mikayla, adorable in a red velvet dress and festive barrettes in her unruly black hair, in her lap. Daniel was on one side of his mother, Mackenzie on the other, their hands on her shoulders. Kieran lay on his stomach on the floor in front of her, his elbows propped him up and his chin cupped in his hands.

It was a beautiful picture and Stella cherished it. Along with the pewter frame that the kids had given her for Christmas to put it in. Those children and their mother and father were part of her family. And she loved and adored them. And when she thought of how difficult their lives would be without their mother….

Emotion threatened again. Sighing heavily, Stella struggled, in vain, to hold it back. Placing her elbows on her desk, she buried her face in her hands and let the tears flow. She allowed herself to openly sob. Not caring who could see her from the hallway. Or what they'd say about her behind her back.

It was time. Time to worry about herself. Time to take control of her life once again. Time to allow herself the time to grieve instead of worrying about how her sorrow would affect everyone around her.

Keeping it in had done her a serious injustice. Had done Sam a serious injustice. And before Stella could effectively move on with her life, she had to deal with the past and the present. She needed to put what had happened behind her. She needed to shed herself of the guilt and think about all of the fun times she'd had with her friend. She had to stop thinking about the way Samantha died and start concentrating on the way she had lived. She needed to stop blaming someone and start accepting that it had happened. That it was a tragic incident and that maybe, just maybe, no one would ever pay for it.

_I've got to let her go,_ Stella thought, and finally composing herself, wiped her face with the backs of her hands and stole a glance at the photograph once again. At the smiling Flack family. When things had been so wonderful. Less complicated.

"Time to let you go Sammie," she whispered. "Time to say goodnight. But never goodbye."

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers! And I wish all the mommies out there a wonderful Mother's Day! Please R and R folks!**

**Special thanks to:**

**CSINYMinute**

**Hope4sall**

**HighQueenReicheru**

**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

**Soccer-bitch**

**TT012**

**muchmadness**

**xSamiliciousx**

**wolfeylady**

**Forest Angel**


	115. One Shot Part 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA ROSS- FLACK AND ALL THE FLACK KIDS.**

**THANKS TO EVERYONE THAT HAS NOMINATED ME AND MY STORIES IN THE AWARDS! I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU!**

**THIS IS A FUTURE CHAPTER**

* * *

**One Shot: Part Two Calm Before the Storm**

"A hundred days have made me older  
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face  
A thousand lies have made me colder  
And I don't think I can look at this the same  
But all the miles that separate  
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face

The miles just keep rollin'  
As the people leave their way to say hello  
I've heard this life is overrated  
But I hope that it gets better as we go, oh yeah yeah

I'm here without you baby  
But you're still on my lonely mind  
I think about you baby  
And I dream about you all the time  
I'm here without you baby  
But you're still with me in my dreams  
And tonight girl it's only you and me

Everything I know and anywhere I go  
It gets hard but it won't take away my love  
And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done  
It gets hard but it won't take away my love, whoa

I'm here without you baby  
But you're still on my lonely mind  
I think about you baby  
And I dream about you all the time  
I'm here without you baby  
But you're still with me in my dreams  
And tonight girl it's only you and me."  
-Here Without You, Three Doors Down

* * *

Climbing wearily out from behind the wheel of his SUV, Flack softly closed the door behind him and then paused at side of the vehicle as he drew cool, crisp early morning air into his lungs.

It had been a hell of a long eighteen hours. He'd already powered down his computer and had just pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up and was rolling down the sleeves of his dress shirt when a triple homicide in Far Rockaway had come in. With no available detectives to take the case and Gerrard none to gently reminding him that he was going away on a two week vacation in four days, Flack had reluctantly agreed to stay a little bit longer. A little bit. His hope had been to work an eight hour shift and then pass all his notes off to whatever detective would relieve him. Only no other detective ever came and he was stuck saddling the load himself. With Sam working earlies, he was always the parent to get up at six thirty in the morning to make and pack lunches -the boys adamantly refused, especially Daniel, to eat anything that was put in their lunchboxes the night before, claiming it made things too soggy- and then get the kids up, fed and then ready for their day.

He could tell when he'd called the house shortly before midnight that Sam was not impressed. Not in the slightest. She simply just didn't have time to get herself up and ready and adequately take care of the kids. Mac, and now Stella, had always been good at keeping her on the early shift so that she was -barring some kind of disaster- waiting at the curb in front of St. Michael's Elementary when the final bell of the day sounded. And now Flack, all because he felt it was time for them to take the honeymoon they'd never had, was just going and essentially screwing everything up.

"I don't know what you want me to do, babe…" he'd said, slightly amused by her hormonal ranting and raving on the other end of the phone. "I mean, there's no one that can come and take my place. I've got to see this case through. At least until five am. That's when Scagnetti's been called in for."

"I've got to be up at seven thirty!" Sam had argued back. Sounding as if she was ready to dissolve into tears. The pregnancy was just shy of its third month and already she was an emotional wreck and the all day sickness was causing her sheer hell. It was getting harder and harder to hide the news from their family, friends and co-workers. She could only drink so much stale ginger-ale or warm milk and eat so many crackers without drawing attention to herself. But they'd agreed to wait out the first trimester.

If Flack didn't kill her or himself by then.

"Sammie…I can't do anything about it. Why don't you call in sick or something? Just tell them one of the kids has come down with something and…"

"Oh that's just goddamn rich! Everyone in the lab will know that you were at work! That I'm just bullshitting. Why can't Scagnetti come in now?"

"I don't know…he just can't, alright?"

"Well aren't you the goddamn boss around there?" she'd snapped. "You are the Lieutenant are you not? Get back on the goddamn phone and tell him he has to come in!"

"Sammie…" he'd fought to keep his temper in check. "This is a direct order from the Chief of Detectives. He assigned me to this case and I can't do a damn thing about it. Scagnetti will be here at five and then I'll be on my way home. That's just the way it is. I promise you that the second he walks in the door, I'll be out of here and on my way home. But right now…"

He'd been unable to get any further words out of his mouth. A dull click sounded in his ear, followed by the dial tone. His wife had hung up on him and was most likely calling him every foul name in the book back home in Queens and setting up the couch for him to sleep on.

_Better than putting up with the she-bitch, _he thought now, as he ran a hand over his tired, unshaven face and started up the driveway. The neighbour was engrossed in peaceful slumber as the sun became to rise, glowing brilliant yellow on the horizon. As the breeze tousled the tree tops and fluttered the corners of the morning paper that lay near the bottom step of the front porch, he noticed, for the very first time in nearly seven years of living in that exact neighbourhood, on that exact street and in that exact house, the sound of morning doves cooing in the trees.

They'd always been there of course. Sam had commented many times about how beautiful the sound was, but how depressed it made her feel. Yet he'd never actually paid attention to the birds himself. As far as he was concerned, anything that made that kind of noise so early in the morning was nothing more than a goddamn nuisance.

But he realized, as he bent down to scoop up the paper, that Sam was right. That woeful cooing was beautiful. And extremely depressing.

_You need to get your ass inside and to bed, _Flack thought, as he tucked the paper under his arm and climbed the front steps. _Something's obviously wrong with you if you're actually standing around listening to birds and letting their racket get to you. You need to just get inside, make those damn lunches and get your kids up and at 'em. Leaves you six hours to get some sleep before they, and their bitchy mother, are walking through the front door._

_Come on Flack, _he smirked as he pulled open the screen and holding it with his hip, shoved his keys in the lock of the heavy wooden front door. _She may be an insufferable bitch at the worst of times, but you damn well know you couldn't live without her. She's your best friend. The one that has your back no matter what stupid shit you pull or what kind of crap comes out of your mouth. She's your everything. The love of your life. You'd never survive without her. So go upstairs and kiss her awake and tell her you love her and do all the cuddling she wants. Humour her. You're the one that made her so hormonal and crabby in the first place._

_But it sure is fun getting her that way, _he thought with a chuckle and let himself into the house.

It was dark and peaceful inside. With a forty five minutes left to spare until he needed to get his ass into gear, he planned on heading upstairs, getting out of his wrinkled suit and sweaty shirt and taking a long, hot shower. His back and shoulders were aching and he wanted nothing more then to stand under the pounding water and let it ease the tension and strip the pain away. Afterwards he'd toss on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats and head back downstairs to get the show on the road. And once those kids and the wife were out the door….

Well that time would be damn golden.

* * *

Locking the door behind him, Flack toed off his shoes and set them on the rack inside of the hall closet. Yawning noisily and stretching until his back cracked, he journeyed out of the foyer and through the living room, the early morning sun trickling through the sheer curtains covering the windows and sending shards of light dancing across the hardwood. Loose floorboards creaked under his feet as he climbed the stairs and as his hand came in contact with a rickety spot on the banister, he made a mental note to take some time out of his day to fix it before one of the kids put too much pressure on it and snapped it in half, resulting in someone getting seriously hurt as they tumbled down the stairs.

And the last person he wanted it to happen to was his pregnant wife. With each pregnancy she went through, the riskier and riskier carrying successfully to term had become. The pressure of carrying twins inside of her tiny body and what the doctor had described as a narrow, small uterus, had caused her incompetent cervix to give her twice as much problems as when she'd been pregnant with Kieran. So much problems in fact, that for both her safety and that of the boys, she'd been strict bed rest and had gone for twice weekly appointments from the time her six month hit. With Mikayla, she'd spent the last month and a half in the hospital when both the cervix and pre-eclampsia reared their ugly heads.

News of a fourth and what would be their final child, had rocked them considerably. At the time she'd found out just a short two weeks ago, Flack was less than a month away from going into the hospital to gave a vasectomy. His first appointment for the procedure having been cancelled due to a bastard of a flu he'd come down with, and the several others being postponed on his part when work commitments had meant his private life had to take a back seat to the professional one. He'd been meaning to go and get the damn thing over and done with. Despite numerous attempts to get pregnant following Mikayla's birth and no luck whatsoever, they had finally said enough was enough and Flack had offered to be the one to go and things 'taken care of'. It was the least he could, he said, considering the hell her body had been through in an effort to give him their three kids. So when she'd taken that pregnancy test and that positive result had glared up at them, they'd been completely shocked. She'd chalked up her missed periods and slight nausea to work stress and had never expected that they'd be having another baby considering the disappointments they'd experienced in two years.

But she was pregnant. There was no denying it. An ultrasound three days ago had confirmed that she was indeed having a baby and that she was just shy of three months. Flack had joked, as he'd sat by the end of the exam table, stroking her hair and her forehead softly with the fingers of his right hand while firmly grasping her left with his, that it was a damn good thing there was only one heart beat . 'Cause if there were two or more, the tech would be calling a code blue for someone to come and resuscitate They'd both been nervous. They'd been worried that at her age and with her problems that the baby would be more susceptible to certain genetic and chromosomal defects. With each pregnancy, the corresponding triple screen test had shown a high percentage of having a child with 'problems'. Every baby had been born perfectly healthy and 'normal'.

So far.

They had decided, if the ultrasound didn't pick up on any markers of defects and if the blood work still came back a problem, they were going to take their chances and not pursue further tests. They would take whatever cards they were dealt, and love their child no matter was, or wasn't wrong with them. Thankfully, while they were still waiting on the results from her blood work, the head radiologist hadn't seen anything wrong with the images he'd spent an hour studying. The OB they'd seen afterwards had examined Sam, suggested pre-natal vitamins and folic acid -but now, after three other kids, it sounded like a well rehearsed script on the doctor's part- and they were sent on their way.

The pregnancy was remaining a well guarded secret for now. Once she'd successfully carried into her second trimester, then and only then would they spread the word among their family and friends. Once they'd returned home from their vacation to Ireland, then and only then would they let everyone in on their news. It was hard for Flack. Nerve wracking, in fact. Every time she stepped out the front door or he saw her at a crime scene or wandering the halls of the lab, it had taken all his will power to not run to Stella and tell her about the baby. To ask that Sam be put on straight lab work until she was ready to go on maternity leave. The morbid thoughts of something happening to her, or the baby while on the job, nagged at him constantly.

As far as he was concerned, the moment she was out of harms way couldn't come soon enough.

He bypassed the master bedroom in favour of wandering down the hall to Mikayla's room. He stood by the side of the crib, smiling tenderly down at his baby girl as lay spread-eagled in her bed, her curly dark hair a stark contrast against the snow white sheet below her. Long, dark lashes fell on rosy cheeks and her lips were puckered and twitching, as if suckling on a bottle. While he loved all of his children with an intensity he'd never imagined possible, his baby girl held an enormous chunk of his heart. She was the -so far- the only girl in a house in which testosterone ran rampant. Mikayla, with her wardrobe of dresses and her leotards with frills on her bottom and the little diamond studs that sparkled on her earlobes and her countless supply of adorable baubles and barrettes Sam constantly put in her hair, and her mother were the ones responsible for keeping the softness and sensitivity in his life.

And he adored his girls to the ends of the earth.

"Sweet dreams of sweet things, baby girl," he whispered in the stillness of the room, and picking up Mikayla's discarded purple chenille blanket from the far corner of the crib, tugged it around her tiny, sleeping form. Pressing the tips of his fore and middle finger to his lips, he laid them against his daughter's forehead before turning away from the crib and leaving the room.

He checked on the boys next. Despite Kieran's protests that he was a big kid now -nine going on nineteen, Sam always complained with a roll of her eyes- Flack still crept into his firstborn's room and paused at the side of the bed to run a hand over his son's hair and to press a kiss to the top of his head. Then he extracted the comforter from where it was tangled around Kieran's feet and draped it loosely over the little boy's body. Leaving from the ankles down completely bare. Kieran hated feeling closed in. And always slept with the least amount of blankets possible, with his feet sticking out. Claiming he couldn't stand his toes being hot. That sweaty toes made it too hard to sleep.

The twins, in light of their constant bickering and the often violent, bloody fights they got into with each other, had fallen asleep on the top of the bunk beds that were in their shared room. Each had their own blanket and their own pillow, and were stretched out beside each other, Mackenzie's feet in Daniel's face and vice versa. He extracted a comic book from underneath Mackenzie before one wrong move sent it toppling down to the floor, and then moved down along the bunk to pull the corner of Daniel's blanket out of his mouth. He always sucked and chewed on the same corner of the ratty old blue receiving blanket. There was a tag on that exact spot with a little red heart on it, and Daniel insisted that that was where 'blankie's soul was'. Flack rolled his eyes every time he heard his son say it and complained that the kid was way too girlie. And Sam always scolded him and said that Daniel was a sensitive, loving little soul.

"When he's asleep maybe," Flack grumbled in return, and received a slap to the shoulder or the death glare for his efforts.

Reaching out, he attempted to remove the corner of the blanket from Daniel's mouth. It was like performing intricate surgery with the prospect of the patient waking up half way through. And Flack held his breath as he gently tried to pull the blanket from the firm grip of his son's jaws.

Daniel groaned loudly and his eyes briefly flickered. Flack waited, his eyebrows arched in anticipation, just waiting for his son's dark, intense brown eyes to snap open and for the little boy to launch into a tirade about his father's attempts to steal blankie. Daniel continued to sleep, but he slapped Flack's hand away and rolled over onto his side, presenting his dad with his back and taking blankie, still in his mouth, with him.

Sighing, Flack combed his fingers through Daniel's curly brown hair and left the room.

Accepting defeat.

* * *

Letting loose another ribbing shaking yawn, Flack yanked his white Lieutenant's shirt out from the waist of his navy department issued dress pants as he journeyed down the hall towards the closed door of the master bedroom. At first, when he'd climbed the ranks to Lieutenant, he'd been happy to give up wearing a suit and tie every day. He'd done it for nearly fifteen years and a uniform was a welcome thing. For a while, anyway. When he was scheduled for nights, he bent the rules and went back to wearing a suit and a tie again. During days, when Gerrard and other members of the brass were wandering around and would rain shit down on him if they saw him out of uniform, he slipped into that white shirt that bore the lieutenant's strips on both upper arms and attached the various 'bars' that he'd earned in his years of service and climbed into those boring navy slacks and the department issued boots polished to perfection and headed out the door.

And now he was opening another door and stepping into the quiet, peaceful confines of the master bedroom. The roller shade had been pulled down the night before leaving less then an inch from the bottom of the blind to the top of the window ledge, allowing a sliver of sunlight to trickle into the room. Closing the door behind him, he stood at the side of the bed and looked down at his wife as she slept peacefully. On her right hand side facing the door, an angelic smile on her face and her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow. And his pillow tucked tightly between her legs.

He smirked and shook his head at the sight before him, but left her the way she was as he walked around to the foot of the bed and began to undress. His badge went on the dresser and after removing the clip from his weapon and setting the safety, he placed the separate pieces in two different lock boxes he kept the top drawer of his dresser. The key went into Sam's jewellery box, buried under a string of old pearls she'd only worn once after he'd complained made her look old.

The dress shirt and plain navy blue tie came off first and were tossed onto the chair that sat in the corner of the room while his socks were thrown into the laundry basket in the walk in closet. He had just gotten his belt unbuckled and had popped open the button on his pants when he heard a soft sigh and the rustle of sheets behind him.

"Hey…" Sam greeted sleepily, as she removed the pillow from between her legs and tossing it aside, sat up in bed and ran a hand through her messy, shoulder length hair.

"Are you actually talking to me?" he asked, only half joking.

"Did I not just speak?" she retorted.

Flack smirked. "Sammie…you being a smart ass this early in the morning? Not a good idea."

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, then smiled at him as he journeyed to the side of the bed and kissed her softly.

"Good morning," he said, and running a hand over her hair, dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"Morning," she returned, and reached out to unzip his pants. "Long night, huh?"

He nodded and letting his pants fall to his ankles, kicked them on and in the general direction of the chair. They fell short of their target, tumbling to the floor in a puddle of dark fabric. "Very long night," he told her, and pulled his white gold chain out from under the neck of his wife beater. "You sleep okay?" he asked.

Sam shrugged. "I never sleep great when you work nights. It's been like that for the last ten years. Why would it change now? You know how much I hate an empty bed."

"Well hopefully," he said, as he removed his watch and dropped it on the night table. "Once we get those new detectives on board in a couple of months, my night shift days and doing favours for the brass will be long behind me."

Sam held up both hands, her fingers crossed. "Donnie…" she began, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry…about snapping at you last night. I know it wasn't your fault that no one could come in and relieve you. And I didn't mean to jump on you and get all bitchy like that. I've just been…out of sorts lately."

"Hormonal, you mean?" he asked with a grin. "I've come to expect nothing less then raging she-bitch when you're pregnant babe. I'm used to it by now."

"Well I wouldn't have a reason to be a hormonal, she-bitch if you just kept it in your pants, would I?" she asked sweetly.

"Maybe…" Flack grinned. "But then keeping it in my pants would be just as much torture for you as it would be for myself."

"You always have to have the last word," she said with a dramatic pout. "Did you check on the baby?" she asked.

"All four of them," he replied.

"Don't let the boys hear you call them that. Especially Mackie and Kieran. They're liable to slit your throat in your sleep for insinuating they're anything less than men. Everyone was okay?"

Flack nodded. "Out like a light. All of them. I'm going to go and take a shower and get started on their lunches and stuff so I can…"

"Actually.." Sam scooted across the bed on her ass and then pushing herself up onto her knees, reached for the bottom of his wife beater and tugged him towards her. "I've pulled some strings that guarantees us at least an hour together. Alone. In bed."

"Yeah?" he asked with a grin, watching as she toyed with the hem of the undershirt. "What kind of strings?"

"I called Gussie. I told her about our little disagreement last night and explained our little predicament, and she offered to come over and get the kids ready, fed and to school."

"She offered? Just like that?"

"Mm-hm," Sam nodded, and lifting the bottom of his wife beater, pressed a warm, moist kiss to his stomach. "I guess she felt bad for us and seeing as her and Adam are trying to have a baby of their own, I guess she feels the more experience doing mommy things the better."

"Is it wrong that the thought of your brother actually procreating with someone totally disgusts me?" Flack asked, then shivered as her tongue trailed across his stomach.

"Personally, I think they'll have beautiful babies," Sam said. "But right now…I don't even want to think about that…"

"What do you want to think about?" he asked, swallowing noisily as her finger hooked into the elastic waist band of his boxers.

"Absolutely nothing," she replied, and giving a devilishly grin, moved on her knees backwards across the bed. Crooking her finger, she beckoned for him to join her. "What I want is for you to come here and make me not regret my decision to get up disgustingly early just for you."

Grinning broadly, Flack peeled off his wife beater and yanked off his boxers. Tossing them aside, he got down on all fours and crawled across the bed towards his wife.

"You won't ever regret a lot of things with me baby," he promised, then grabbing a hold of her hips, yanked her towards him and seized her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss.

* * *

"Shit! Donnie!"

Flack's eyes snapped open at the sound of his wife's shrieking, and frantic that something was wrong with her or the kids or even the baby, he bolted into a sitting position. "Sammie…what…?" his vision was blurry and his brain was swimming with exhaustion as he looked over to where his wife was racing around the bedroom, in just a white lace bra and panties, frantically searching for clothes.

"It's five minutes to eight!" she cried, as she tossed open the doors of her armoire and rummaged through the t-shirts folded neatly on the shelves.

"Five minutes to eight?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes and raking his fingers through his hair. He could hear the boys chatting and arguing incessantly and Mikayla's musical giggle outside of the window, accompanied by Gus' Louisiana drawl as she attempted to get them all loaded into her SUV.

"Yes, Don…" she sighed exasperatedly as she yanked a blood red t-shirt over her head. "Seven fifty five."

"You sure?" he inquired, reaching for his watch and peering down at it. Needing confirmation.

"I know how to tell time, babe," she huffed, and yanking open one of the armoire's drawers, snagged a pair of simple black slacks.

"I never said you didn't," he yawned, and ran his hands down his face. "Alarm didn't go off?" he asked, casting a glance to the object in question that sat on the nightstand.

"I don't know," she sighed, as she pulled on her pants and zipped and buttoned them. "If it did, one of us turned it off and we don't remember. If we didn't, then the damn thing obviously isn't working."

"Maybe you just didn't set it properly," Flack suggested.

"I know how to set a stupid fucking alarm clock, Donald!" she exclaimed, and picking up a pillow that had tumbled to the floor in the midst of their almost frantic, desperate coupling early, tossed it at him.

"I am just saying…" he held up one hand in surrender and intercepted the pillow with the other. Setting it down beside him, he leaned across the bed and snatched the alarm clock off of the night stand. "Sammie…" he couldn't resist a chuckle. "You set the goddamn thing for seven thirty PM."

"What?" she frowned. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "It clearly says seven thirty PM. Not AM."

"Let me see that!" she demanded, and bounded towards the bed. Attempting to snag the alarm clock from his hand, only to let out a shriek as he curled an arm around her waist and tossed her unceremoniously in the middle of the bed.

"Good morning sunshine!" Flack laughed, dropping the clock in favour or covering her body with his, his hands planted on the mattress above her head, both arms bearing his weight.

"Donald…I do not have time for this…" she said, turning her face to the side as he tried to kiss her.

"There's always time to kiss your husband good morning," he declared, and covered her mouth his in a slow, lazy kiss. She resisted, but only briefly. Within seconds she was tunnelling her fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. When they were both breathless, he pulled back and look at her, blue eyes sparkling.

"Good morning, baby…" she said, and ran a hand down his face. "Thanks for making me late for work."

"You're late for work 'cause you feel back asleep in the midst your post-orgasmic ecstasy," he informed her. "I only took up fifteen minutes of your time. All you had to do was lie there for another fifteen minutes and get up."

"If you hadn't have given me such an amazing, intense orgasm I never would have fallen back asleep," she reasoned.

"I think we should just both accept blame for this," he said. "And I think you should call Stella and tell her you're not coming in today."

"Oh that will go over well," Sam snorted, as she played with the chain dangling from his neck. "I'm suppose to start in an hour."

"Well guess what, Tinks?" he pecked her lips. "You're not going to make it. So just give her a call and tell her you're not coming in. Tell her that you were up with one of the kids all night and they have to stay home from school and you haven't had any sleep and won't be able to effectively and safely fulfill your duties."

"I am not playing hooky because you want me to stay in bed all day with you. I'm not skipping out on a shift because you just want to get laid as many times as possible."

"Hey…that is a perfectly reasonable excuse for calling in sick. Just call her and tell her that your husband is a dirty minded bastard and that he's got you handcuffed to the bed and is hell bent on doing all kinds of sick, perverted things to you."

"You and your handcuff fantasies," Sam rolled her eyes.

"Call in sick baby," Flack implored, pressing feathery kisses along every inch of her smooth face. "It's been a long time since we've had a day off together. Without the kids around."

"We're going on vacation in four days, Donnie," she reminded him. "Without the kids. What more do you want?"

"I want as many days off with you as possible. I want forever. With you. I thought I made that perfectly clear to you ten years ago."

"Was that during the wild sex in a public washroom or when we conceived our son in the backseat of your SUV in a dark alley in Chinatown?" she asked curiously.

"I'm being serious here. Mind you…." he grinned devilishly. "Both those times are still fresh in my memory. Right up there with that mint chocolate chip ice cream fiasco in the my old apartment and that time in the shower when you let me go all big, bad police man on you."

She blushed furiously.

"Call in sick, Sammie…" he repeated, as his lips descended on the side of her neck. "Take a personal day. Tell them you're sick. Tell them one of the kids are sick. Hell, tell them all of them are sick. Just stay home. With me. Let's just shut ourselves up in this room all day."

"Don…" she sighed.

"Come on…I know you want to…do it for me, babe. For us. Call in."

"Donald…" she buried her face in his hair once again and pulled his head back. "I can't," she insisted, and kissed his chastely.

"Fine…" he grumbled and flopped onto his back alongside of her. "Let me suffer."

"I think you'll make it," she told him, and pressing a kiss to his cheek, proceeded to climb off of the bed.

He lay in the middle of the bed, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, listening as she padded around their bedroom as she finished getting ready for work. Finding socks, putting in a pair of earrings, removing her badge from the top drawer of the night table and clipping it to her pants before heading into the bathroom to apply a touch of makeup.

She emerged several minutes later. He heard the swish of her clothes as she approached the bed. "I've got to go," she said reluctantly, and leaned over him to kiss him.

"I know…" he said with a heavy sigh, and kissed her back in earnest, his fingers of one hand tangling in her hair. "Call me. Maybe I'll come in to town and take you to lunch."

"I love you, Donnie…" she whispered, her lips against his forehead.

"I love you, too," he told her, a smile on his face. As she pulled away from him, he felt her silken tresses slip from between his fingers.

"See you soon baby," she said, as she paused in the doorway of their bedroom.

He nodded and gave her a wave.

And just like that she was gone.

* * *

"I never even watched her leave," Flack said, his voice a near whisper as he sat beside Jessica Angell on the top step of his parents' front porch nearly three months after his wife had been brutally gunned down.

The sun was beginning to set. Painting the sky in vivid shades of orange, purple and pink. While Mikayla slept inside the house in her portable playpen under the watchful eye of her grandmother, the boys laughed heartily as grandpa showed them how to play horseshoes. The barbecue feast had gone down well. It lifted a massive weight off of Flack's shoulders to see his children smile and hear them giggle. To witness them bond with their grandfather. A man who'd been absent in not only their lives, but their own father's as well. A proud, stubborn man hell bent on making amends. Flack had been more than content to do little more than sit on the porch and drink beer and watch his children indulge in simple pleasures. To see them running around and having fun with no cares in the world after everything they'd been through.

It had been a long, trying day. He'd been unable to keep his composure at his wife's grave site. He had been determined to be the rock, to simply stand there and hold back his tears and battle his own demons as his children laid their cards and that cupcake against their mother's headstone and said a few words to her. But his dissolve had crumbled the moment that Kieran attempted to speak and all words were cut off by a choked sob. And before he could grab a hold of his son, the nine year old was on his knees bawling for his mother and telling her hated her and that he loved her all in one breath.

It had been nothing short of sheer hell. Seeing his kids like that. And he'd been unable to hold back his own tears as he sat down on the grass that covered his wife's grave and gathering his children in his arms, held them in his lap and rocked them until they all, himself included, began to feel better.

The four beers he'd consumed within an hour of being at his folks had helped numb the pain. The fifth and the sixth had nearly demolished it. The seventh and eight had him baring his soul to his ex girlfriend who'd shown up unexpectedly -to him at least- halfway through dinner. She had called earlier, after she'd attempted several times to contact him following the message he'd left on her cell phone. She had held on to, even after all these years, his parents' numbers and had called them in hopes of finding out where he was. Patricia had invited her over immediately. Telling Jess that her son desperately needed help. He needed someone. And maybe that someone was her.

Flack wasn't sure what got him talking about Sammie. He had been avoiding talking about her in great detail since she'd died. Not smart, he knew. Because keeping in all of the regrets and all of his sorrow was threatening to destroy him. He remembered every single detail of that day. Every word that had been spoken, every kiss and caress that had been shared. He'd never talked to anyone about it.

Until now.

Maybe it was the way Jess had just simply sat down beside him, two beers in her hands and handed him one. Maybe it was the way she didn't force him to talk. Or ,aybe it was the way she smelled. She and Sammie had always used the same shampoo. A vanilla and honey concoction they'd purchased at The Body Shop while out on one of their many shopping excursions. That smell reminded him of Sammie. And if he closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths, it was as she was sitting right next to him again.

But she wasn't. He was reminded every time he opened his eyes that his wife was gone.

After several minutes of long silence, Jess had bumped him with her elbow and told him that she was there for him. No matter what. And that if he wanted to talk, then she was all ears.

The second he'd opened his mouth he'd been unable to close it again.

Jess had listened intently to his recollections of his last morning with his wife. She didn't comment or interrupt. She sat quietly and fought back tears of her own and offered up the occasional sniffle or a slight chuckle or a nod or a shake of her head.

"She walked out the door and I never watched her go," Flack continued, regret weighing heavily on his face and in his voice. "She left the house and that was it. She was gone. She walked out of my life and never walked back in."

"She didn't leave you because she wanted to, Don," Jess whispered, as she rubbed his back soothingly. "She left because she had to. And there was nothing you could have done to stop what happened to her."

"I just…I miss her so much, Jessie…" he struggled with his tears once again. "So much…and I would give anything to have her back again. To just turn the clock back and force her to stay home. To just make her call Stella. Or call Stella myself. To just…"

"It happened," Jess told him gently. "You can't go back and change it. I know it's killing you inside, Don. To not have Sammie here. I know it's hard and I know how badly you want her back. And how badly I want to give her back to you. But I can't do that. I just can't."

"I know…" he cleared his throat noisily and sniffled.

"Is there anything else you want to say? Do you want to go any further along with this? Because I'm here for the long haul."

"I want to talk about her," Flack said. "I need to talk about her."

"Well here I am. So talk. Tell me everything that happened after she left the house. You need to get it out and I'm here to give you the opportunity. Tell me, Don. Just talk to me."

"I can't…" he choked up and laid a hand over his eyes. "I need some time. A few minutes to…I just need a few minutes."

"Okay…" Jess said with a soft smile, and curling her arm around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder.

She'd wait.

For as long as she had to.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! And who may be just lurking! I appreciate each and every one of you for all of your support in the year since this story was born!!**

**Please R and R folks!**

**Hope4sall**

**CSINYMinute**

**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

**Madison Bellows**

**Soccer-bitch**

**HighQueenReicheru**

**SpankyMcDoogleFace**

**xSamiliciousx**

**wolfeylady**

**Forest Angel**


	116. One shot Part 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA FLACK. WELL…THIS SAM FLACK, ANYWAY.**

**I WANT TO SEND OUT A HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF YOU THAT NOMINATED ME IN SO MANY CATEGORIES! I CAN NOT EXPRESS MY GRATITUDE ENOUGH! MUCH LOVE TO ALL OF YOU! I AM TRULY HUMBLED.**

**A/N 1: CONTRARY TO SOME MESSAGES I'VE BEEN RECEIVED, I FEEL I MUST REITERATE THAT THE CENTRAL MOB 'STORY LINE' REGARDING SAM'S SHOOTING, HER TIME IN THE HOSPITAL, DEATH AND FLACK'S REACTION (S) WERE INITIALLY COVERED IN CHAPTERS POSTED OVER A YEAR AGO. **

**A/N 2: I WANT TO THANK, FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART THREE PEOPLE:**

**CASS: **_FOR ALL HER CHATS AND ALLOWING ME TO BOUNCE IDEAS OFF OF HER AND PASSING ME SOME ADVICE AND IDEAS_

**HEIDI: **_FOR BEING A ROCK AND NEVER COMPLAINING AS I (PROBABLY) BORED HER WITH SNEAK PEEKS OF MY STORIES. AND FOR HELPING ME OUT!_

**MADISON BELLOWS: **_FOR ALL OF HER AMAZING REVIEWS. AND FOR HAVING SO MUCH FAITH IN MY FUTURE CHAPTERS AND FOR CHALLENGING ME TO PUT MY ALL INTO THEM. WORDS CAN'T EXPRESS HOW MUCH THAT HAS MEANT TO ME._

**SPECIAL WARM WELCOME TO HEART2HANDGUN**

**THIS CHAPTER CONTINUES WITH FLACK'S STORY….**

* * *

**One shot, Part 3: Someone to lean on**

"So close no matter how far  
couldn't be much more from the heart  
forever trusting who we are  
and nothing else matters  
never opened myself this way  
life is ours, we live it our way  
all these words I don't just say  
and nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you  
every day for us something new  
open mind for a different view  
and nothing else matters

Never cared for what they do  
never cared for what they know  
but I know  
so close no matter how far  
couldn't be much more from the heart  
forever trusting who we are  
and nothing else matters."  
-Nothing Else Matters, Metallica

* * *

The shrill ringing of the cordless phone on the nightstand tore Flack from his deep, peaceful slumber. As brilliant sun squeezed between the bottom of the roller shade and the top of the window ledge and sent shards of light streaming across the hardwood floor, his arm shot out to his side and his fingers fumbled blindly for the offending object that so bravely dared to disturb him. The veil of exhaustion hung heavily over his body and senses and muted his reflexes and slowed his coordination, and as the phone reached its fifth ring, it slipped from his feeble grasp and tumbled to the floor. It hit hard; sending the receiver in one direction and the battery pack skittering under the bed.

"For fucksakes," he muttered, and running his hands over his weary face and through his messy hair, Flack propped himself up onto his elbows, his blurry eyes taking in the expanse of the silent, empty room.

He could hear the phone all the way downstairs in the kitchen continue to ring. The sixth, then the seventh, the eighth cut off as the answering machine perched on the table on Sam's side of bed came to life.

"Hi!" his wife's cheerful voice sounded throughout the room. In the background there were the distinct sounds of the boys arguing -over who got to eat the last piece of Mommy's birthday cake of all things - and Mikayla's babbling and her occasional shrieks of 'Daddeee! Daddeee uppie!'. "You're reached the Flack residence," Sam's voice continued. "I'm sorry that Don and I can't came to the phone right now. We're currently immersed in domestic hell. But if you care to leave a message after the beep, one of us will get back to you as soon as we can. And hopefully with our sanity intact."

Flack smirked as he listened to the greeting, taped less then a three weeks ago, the weekend of Sam's fortieth birthday, and he laughed out loud when his own voice piped up just before the beep. "Do you really have to record something like that Sammie? What will…"

The words had been cut off by the beep, which now echoed throughout the bedroom. He waited for the caller to leave a message, and was somewhat relieved when all that came was the loud click of the call being disconnected.

Must not have been important, he thought, and yawning noisily, snagged his pillow from behind him, and beating it with his fist to fluff it to his desired specifications, lay back down on his left side. There was no way in hell he was about to get out of bed just to retrieve the cordless and put it back together. There were four other working phones in the house after al.

If it's a life or death thing, they'll call back, he mused, and reaching out to pull his wife's pillow across the bed, tucked it into his chest and buried his face in the cool, smooth pillow case. Her smell -the vanilla honey shampoo mixed with a tinge of sweat- lingered on the fabric and worked quickly and effortlessly to relax him. He closed his eyes, knowing that sleep wouldn't evade him for long.

The phone rang again. The sound was softer, less obtrusive. Flack's eyes flickered upon as realization set in that it wasn't the landline someone was trying to get a hold of him on this time. It was his department issued cell phone. Which he had left turned on when he'd gotten home, but had sat on the table by the front door.

Totally unusual for him. He always brought the phone upstairs and into the bedroom with him. He would charge it up in the bathroom or if there were enough bars left, he'd leave it on the night table next to his head.

Always.

Groaning loudly in protest, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and tossed the comforter off of him. Rubbing his tired, burning eyes with the backs of his hands, he swung his legs over the side of the mattress and climbed out of bed. Swearing loudly and muttering curses and threats of severe bodily harm to whoever had the fucking nerve to either call him for advice with a case, or one of the members of the brass asking him to come in and cover for someone or clean up a fuck up one of his people made.

His cell had ceased ringing the moment he hit the top landing of the stairs, but promptly started up again as he hit the second step. He hurried down the stairs, floor boards creaking noisily under his feet, profanity slipping out his mouth as he nearly turned an ankle when he stepped on one of Mackenzie's Transformers that had been left half way down the steps. Kicking away discarded kids clothing and various toys that blocked a safe path and making a mental note to get on Sam's ass about keeping the place a little tidier, and to yell at the kids to pick up their shit or risk having it all tossed in the trash.

"This better fucking be good!" he bellowed, his annoyed voice bouncing off the walls of the desolate living room, as he took the last two steps in one stride and hurried for his phone. Snatching it up angrily, he checked the call display, frowning at the sight of Danny's name and cell number. Snapping the phone open, he pressed talk and put it to his ear. "What you…?"

"Don…it's Messer…" Danny sounded out of breath. His voice urgent and dire. "…there's been an incident…with Sammie…"

His first reaction, for reasons he couldn't quite fathom, was to check the time. He strode quickly out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen, where he cast a quick glance at the microwave. It was shortly before ten. Taking into consideration travelling time and the traffic on the Queensboro Bridge and in downtown Manhattan at the time of the morning when Samantha had left the house, she had been on the clock just shy of an hour.

"What kind of incident?" he barked into the phone, concern setting in as he realized that Danny had called her Sammie. He rarely, very rarely in fact, called her that. It was always Sam. Or his favourite moniker of Brooklyn, and hearing Danny use a more tender, affectionate term, one that Flack had used constantly over the last decade, immediately told him that Danny wasn't messing around.

"She was at a crime scene," Danny told him, the words rushing out of his mouth. "At this abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn…with Stella…and something…something bad happened, Don…really, really bad…"

Bile rose in his throat, his stomach churned. He immediately thought of the baby. Considering the possibility that she had had a miscarriage while processing the scene. That due both to the fact the pregnancy was a closely guarded secret and that her internal issues may have caused her to hemorrhage, that Stella may have panicked. That maybe it wasn't as horrific as Danny's tone of voice was making it seem. As sad as losing a baby was -they'd miscarried when Kieran was just eight months old- it was something that they would get over. It wouldn't destroy them. And they could always try again if they wanted to. Silence shrouded the kitchen as his thoughts continued to run rampant. His brain trying to come up with logical, non threatening situations that his wife could have gotten herself embroiled in.

"Don?" Danny's voice broke into his thoughts.

"How bad?" Flack asked, almost unable to get the words out.

"She was shot, Don…she went into the warehouse to start processin' the scene and I guess someone was hidin' out in there. She was shot…in the chest…"

Blind panic hit him square in the chest and nearly knocked the wind clear out of him. Flack's stomach retched, his knees buckled at the force of the news coming face and furious out of Danny Messer's mouth. He laid a hand on the counter alongside of him in a desperate effort to keep himself on his feet. The room spun around him, the ground threatened to open up and swallow him whole as his wobbling legs propelled him towards the kitchen table. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't form a single rational thought . He felt as if his body was acting on its own will as his free hand reached out to yank a chair away from the table.

"What…" he choked out, as he collapsed into the chair.

"You need to get here, Flack…you need to get here as soon as you can…you need to get to Angel of Mercy…she's alive but you need to get here right now…are you hearing me, Flack? Are you hearing a damn thing I'm saying?"

"I…how…what…?"

"Listen to me!" Danny shouted. "You need to haul ass! Sammie's alive and you need to get here! She needs you! She needs her husband and you need to get here like yesterday! Understand me? They don't know if she's going to make it and you need to get here NOW!"

His best friend's harsh, urgent voice sliced through Flack's daze and snapped him back into the moment. Fighting a ferocious headache and horrific nausea, he pushed himself out of the chair with enough force that the piece of furniture hurdled across the floor and slammed into the wall. Clattering noisily as it tumbled onto its side on the kitchen floor.

"I'm on my way," he said, forcing himself to stay calm as he rushed out of the kitchen and retraced his path down the hallway and through the living room.

He had to stay focused. Sam needed him. His Sammie needed him with her. And it wasn't going to do her, or himself, any good to go rushing into Angel of Mercy a complete basket case. He'd always been the rock. The one that held shit together when it seemed like it was completely falling apart. He kept her afloat when her fears and her emotions threatened to consume her. He'd always been the one to take care of her. No questions asked. And he had no intention on letting her down when she desperately needed him the most.

"Hurry, Flack…" Danny implored, sounding as if he was near tears. "You gotta…you just gotta hurry…they won't let me in to see her…she's in the ER right now and they won't let me…"

"Be there as soon as I can," he assured his best friend, and then abruptly disconnected the call as he took the stairs two at a time.

* * *

As the SUV screeched to a halt in one of four spaces clearly marked by a bright yellow paint that read EMERGENCY VEHICLES ONLY just mere yards from the ER entrance of Angel Of Mercy, Flack could see Danny pacing frantically on the small patch of sidewalk alongside of the sliding doors that led into the hospital. His best friend's face was ashen and his hands visibly trembled as he held his phone to his ear with one and held a cigarette to his lips with the other. Danny had long ago given up smoking. The moment that Erica had announced that she was pregnant, he'd gone all ferociously protective and insanely paranoid and ditched every bad habit he had. Including his penchant for carrying on his long distance affair with Lindsay Monroe through emails and text messages.

"Messer!" Flack bellowed, as he climbed out of the SUV and slammed the door behind him. His keys clutched tightly in one hand, his badge in the other. He'd already pulled out of the driveway at home when the thought had struck him to bring his shield along. You never knew when you'd need it while off duty, and he'd left the vehicle idling at the end of the drive as he'd ran back into the house to grab it.

Danny looked up. His mouth set in a grim line as he offered a solemn wave to his best friend before turning his attention back to finishing up his phone call.

"Sir!" a security guard rushed from his command post -a small shack no bigger than a telephone booth that had been situated at the entrance to the short stay lot- the underarms of his too small shirt stained with perspiration, the buttons threatening to pop due to his massive girth. He was out of breath from the short journey he'd had to make from his stool in his shack to where Flack was attempting to cross the expanse of cement that separated him from the ER entrance.

Flack ignored him. He was in no mood to deal with some sonofabitch that thought he was doing the city a service by sitting on his fat ass and reading GQ all day long. Pretending to 'keep the peace' and fooling himself into thinking he'd ever be able to restrain an out of control patient or tame a family member wild from grief.

"Sir!" the guard yelled and grabbed a hold of Flack's left forearm. "You can't park there!"

"Get the fuck outta here," the detective growled, and yanked his arm from the other man's sweaty grip. Suddenly assailed by a memory from years ago. When Adam had called him to tell him that Sam was having problems with the baby and that he'd had to have her brought to Women's and Children's. Flack remembered their fight over Emma Maxwell, and how Sam had fled the apartment and he'd been worried sick when he hadn't been able to contact her. At least she hadn't done anything stupid and had found her way to her brother's. And Carmen had…

_Carmen…fuck…_Flack thought. _Carmen was in the Caribbean. On her second honeymoon. He and Sam had been the ones to drive Carmen and Rick to the airport. To see them off. And now he had to call his wife's best friend, while on what was suppose to be a dream vacation, and tell her about what had gone down._

"That space is for emergency vehicles only!" the guard informed him, and stepped directly into his path. "You have to remove your vehicle ASAP."

"And you have to remove yourself from my fucking face before you find my fist buried in yours!" Flack snapped, and attempted to step through the guard as opposed to around him. His broad chest coming into solid contact with the other man's shoulder and throwing the guard slightly off balance.

"You want me to call the cops, pal!" the other man bellowed, getting into Flack's path once more. Undeterred and clearly not frightened by the size difference between them. "Don't make me call the cops and have your ass tossed in jail!"

"My wife is in there!" Flack yelled. "My wife's in there fucking dying asshole! Now get out of my face before…"

"A lot of peoples wives and husbands and family members are in there dying, buddy. You're not any different. You don't see them parking in the emergency vehicles spot, do you? You don't see them breaking the rules! Now get back in your car or…"

"Or what!" the detective roared, his face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead as he bumped the guard's chest with his own. "Or what? What the fuck are you gonna do?! Call the cops! Have my fucking car towed! Be my guest and get out of my way before I hand you your ass!"

"That's it!" the other man reached for the walkie talkie on his belt. "I'm calling the cops, I'm…"

"He is the goddamn cops!" Danny suddenly appeared at Flack's side, and yanking the forgotten badge from his best friend's iron grasp, shoved it in the guard's face. "His wife is in there! She was brought in on that rig!…" he pointed towards an ambulance parked in front of the emergency entrance, the back doors of the bus open as a paramedic busied himself inside.

"The cop that got shot in Brooklyn…" the guard's face blanched.

"..and he needs to get inside!" Danny finished. "So get out of his face and I'll be out here to move his vehicle the second we know what's going on, a'right? Come on, Flack…" he grabbed a hold of the scruff of the taller man's t-shirt and forcibly pulled him towards the emergency room.

"I'm sorry about that!" the guard called after them. "If I'd have known I wouldn't…I just…good luck…I hope everything works out for the best."

"What the hell is going on, Danny?" Flack asked, ignoring the security guard. "What happened to Sammie?"

"She was shot while processing a scene," the CSI replied. "Exactly what I told you on the phone."

"But how? How did that happen? Wasn't the scene secured?"

"Uniforms said that they checked the inside of the warehouse and that it was safe to go inside," Danny tried to remain as calm as possible. Even though he felt himself dangerously close to falling apart. "Stella told Sam to go in and start and she…"

"Alone?" Flack's eyes widened. "She sent her in to process alone?"

"It was a quick decision on Stella's part. Sam was late getting to the scene and they were both concerned about how quickly the quality of the evidence was degrading and Stella made the decision to…"

"Send Sammie into an unsecured scene. Alone. Which has been against lab policy for a fucking decade!" Flack finished angrily.

"Like I said, the uniforms said they checked it out and they said it was okay."

"Well obviously it wasn't fucking okay, Danny! It obviously wasn't secure or we wouldn't be here! We wouldn't be having this conversation and my wife wouldn't…"

All words escaped Flack as they neared the back of the ambulance, his blue eyes widening in sheer horror at the nightmare that greeted him inside. A young paramedic, one forearm over his mouth as he fought nausea, as his other hand busied itself with stripping the stretcher inside of it blood soaked sheets. Scattered around his feet was used and discarded medical paraphernalia. Empty wrappers from gauze and bandages. Coverings from syringes and heart sensor pads that had been ripped off and tossed to the ground in haste. Balled up towels and sheets, almost black from being used to sop up blood or at least staunch the flow of it. And the floor…the EMS worker's boots made a horrific squishing sound as he practically waded through a pool of ruby red.

"Fucking mess," the young man was muttering, as he angrily kicked towels and paper packaging out of his way. Oblivious to Flack and Danny passing by. "Look at this fucking mess!" the paramedic, obviously distraught at what he'd witnessed, ranted. "How can they do this? How can someone fucking do this to another human being?!"

"Jesus Christ…" Flack breathed, his eyes wide in sheer horror. At the sight of nothing more than a slaughterhouse in front of him. He felt Danny's insistent tug on the back of his t-shirt, the indication to just walk away and keep things moving, and he angrily reached up and shoved his best friend's hand off of him as his weak, trembling legs sent him stumbling towards the ambulance.

"Flack!" Danny immediately attempted to grab a hold of his best friend once again, only to feel the fabric of his t-shirt slip from between his fingers. Watching, his heart breaking at the sight of the normally stoic and hard ass detective nearly collapsing against the tail gate of the ambulance, stopping himself by slamming his palms down on the bloody floor.

"What the fuck…" Flack fought hard to control the threat of tears, the flow of vomit that threatened to escape. He shook his head in disbelief. Stunned at the sight of Armageddon before him. Sickened at the thought that this had ever happened. And nearly brought to his knees as he wondered just how in the hell anyone had survived that. And not just anyone. His wife.

The paramedic gave a small start, surprised by Flack's presence before him. "Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

"My wife…" Flack choked out, the blood warm and silky as it seeped between his fingers. "She…my wife…" he couldn't continue. The rage and the grief so profound it rendered him speechless. He was aware of two things and two things only. The smell and the feel of his wife's blood.

"Don…" Danny's arm curled around him, firmly laying across his collarbone. "Don't do this to yourself…" he whispered, his lips against his best friend's ear. "You don't need to see this…you need to get inside…Sammie needs you…don't do this…"

Flack shook his head, his top teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he attempted to keep himself from breaking down. He felt Danny's arm tighten around him and then his body being yanked backwards and away from the ambulance.

"You need to hold it together," Danny told him, as he released his hold around Flack's neck in favour of grabbing him by the sleeve of his t-shirt, propelling him towards the emergency room. "Sammie's in one of the triage rooms. They'll let you see her, a'right?"

Flack nodded, his entire body and mind completely numb as they stepped through the sliding doors and into the crowded, boisterous emergency room. Danny led the way to the main triage desk, announcing loudly and to anyone within hearing distance, that Detective Flack's husband had arrived. A solemn faced nurse nodded and gave the two men a trembling smile before buzzing them through the door that would grant them access to the treatment areas.

"This way," Danny pushed Flack through the door, then laid a hand on the big detective's back and gently guided him in the direction of Sam's room.

Through the haze of tears, Flack could make out the familiar faces of detectives and uniforms are they huddled in tight, united groups near the end of the hall. Men that he had worked with for years and now commanded. He saw their mouths move as they spoke to him and each other, yet no words registered. He saw the sympathy in their eyes, felt the reassuring pats on the back and his hair being ruffled as one of the older timers reached out to tousle it.

Danny abruptly stopped in front of the last room on the left and turned to face his best friend. He took in the sight of Flack's ashen face and his tortured, frightened blue eyes. He grimaced at the sight of the blood that covered the detective's large, strong hands and dripped down onto the Flack's jeans and shoes and spattered on the floor. A trail of bright red droplets traced their direct path from the ambulance outside to where they now stood.

"You better clean yourself up a bit," Danny said, and moved to snag a towel from a nearby supply cart. When he turned around, Flack was already wiping the blood onto front of his t-shirt. "Don…" he sighed. "You better…"

"I need to see my wife," Flack whispered.

"You need to go and find a washroom and wash your hands and I'll ask a nurse if you can get some scrubs or something…"

"Danny…"

"You can't go in there looking like that and…"

"I want to see my wife!" Flack bellowed. All murmurs and whispers ceased and all eyes focused intently on him. "I.." he took a deep, shaky breath and released it slowly. "I want to see her, Danny," he said quietly.

The CSI nodded, and accepting defeat, turned and laid a hand on the door. "She's unconscious, Flack…" he said, preparing his friend for what he'd see once he stepped through the door. "She's unconscious and intubated. She coded twice in the bus on the way here and while the docs were attending to her. She's…she's in bad shape, Don. Her clothing and personal effects have been bagged. You can have her jewellery, but her clothes need to be sent back to the lab and checked for trace. Her badge, ID and her gun…whoever did this took them…"

Flack didn't respond.

"I just want you to know that after she comes out of surgery, someone from the lab is going to have to come and photograph her and process her for any evidence. It was a straight up shooting. Guy who did this didn't touch her in any other way, shape or form, okay? So you don't have to consent to a sexual assault kit or anything. But we will need to process her."

"That's fine," Flack managed, his voice a mere whisper.

"You have no idea how hard this is for me to be telling you all of this," Danny said, and closing his eyes briefly, laid his forehead against the door. Gathering himself, he cleared his throat noisily and opening his eyes, looked over his shoulder at his best friend. "I am so sorry, Don."

Flack nodded in appreciation of Danny's sympathetic, gentle words. "I just want to see her. I just need to see my wife."

The other man nodded and turned back towards the door. Pausing before pushing it open. "I'll be with you every step of the way, Don," he vowed, and then led the way into the room.

* * *

Danny gave a small nod of greeting to the young nurse that hovered at the side of Samantha's hospital bed, carefully monitoring her patient's vitals. The only sounds in the room the beep of the EKG machine and the hiss of the respirator working diligently to keep Sam alive until there was a vacant operation room, where they would then assess, and hopefully repair, the damage that had been done. The soles of Flack's Adidas runners squeaked as he dragged his feet across the tiles as he slowly approached the bed.

As Danny, struggling with tears lingered in the far corner, the nurse -a tiny, chubby thing with chin length blond hair and a pretty face- walked around the side of the bed to where Flack stood at Sam's feet, his grim blue eyes riveted on his wife's still, seemingly lifeless body. Stunned at the sight of the breathing tube that had been inserted into her mouth and the amount of wires that invaded someone so tiny.

"Detective Flack…" the young woman's voice was soft, melodic as she laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm Cass. I've been looking after your wife since she was brought in. And I'll be accompanying her to the OR when it's time."

He simply nodded, his hand softly rubbing his wife's foot through the blankets pulled so tightly around her.

"Once the surgeon is ready, I'll have another nurse come to escort you and Detective Messer to a private family room near the operating suites. He'll briefly speak to you about the procedure and possible risks and have you sign some forms."

"How long?" Flack asked, his voice barely audible as his eyes never left his wife. "Until they take her up?"

"About fifteen minutes," Cass replied. "You can have some time with her if you'd like."

He nodded and sniffled noisily. "I'd like that," he said, managing a small smile.

"If you need anything, the call button is beside the bed," she told him, and rubbed his arm comfortingly before turning on her heel and gathering a clipboard from the counter across the bed, quickly headed for the door. "I'll bring you a set of scrubs for you can change out of those clothes," she added, her hand closing around the door handle.

"Thank you," Danny called to her.

She simply smiled and slipped from the room.

"Don…" Danny cleared his throat noisily. "If you want me to…"

"You can stay," Flack said quickly. "I'd like it if you stayed."

The CSI nodded and placing his foot against the wall behind him, crossed his arms over his chest and diverted his attention away from Flack and Sam and concentrated on the continuation of life outside of the window. Watching the breeze tousle the leaves on the trees across the street, observing the laughing, smiling pedestrians on the sidewalk. Silently cursing them for not knowing what was developing in that small hospital room. Oblivious to the grief his best friend was enduring as he stood at the bedside of his critically injured wife.

Flack drew a deep, slow breath into his lungs and briefly closed his eyes. He wasn't sure what to say. What to do. How to act. His mind was screaming at him to keep it together. To remain stoic and resolved. While his heart, as it was being shattered into a million pieces, was telling him it was okay to break down. To express his fears. To go to his wife and grasp her hand and lay his forehead against hers. To stroke her hair and tell her he loved her. To let the tears slip from his eyes and drip onto her pale skin.

Exhaling, he opened his eyes and gave Sam's foot a gentle squeeze before walking around the right side of the be, his hand softly travelling the length of her leg. A chair blocked his path and he placed his foot on the seat and pushed it out of his way. Sending it skittering across the floor and the evidence bag that held Sam's clothes tumbling off of it and onto the floor.

"Sammie…" his voice was quiet and soft as his fingertips drifted onto her hand. "I'm here, baby…" he assured her, and taking her tiny, fragile hand in his large strong one, stood at the head of the bed.

His free hand rested on her pillow and he combed his fingers through her hair. The cop side of him told him not to touch her. That she hadn't been processed yet and that the investigating CSIs would face certain shit for allowing him to 'contaminate' her. But the tormented husband side told him to fuck the whole lot of them.

"Sammie…" his voice trembled as he fought back the tears. "I want you to know that I'm here, okay? I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be with you every step of the way, baby. Start to finish. No matter how long that takes. Hours, days, weeks, months. Doesn't matter. I'm here now and I'm going to be here when you open your eyes. I promise you that I'll be the first person you see when you wake up. First person you can flash that pretty smile to. And I…" his voice broke and he sighed heavily. "Everything's going to be okay," he promised. "I swear to you that everything is going to be okay. You've got the best nurses and doctors looking after you and you're going to be okay."

Danny sniffled noisily and removing his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"I don't want you to be scared, alright?" Flack's eyes remained riveted on her face as he trailed his knuckles lightly across her forehead. "Don't be scared…there's no reason to be scared…and don't worry about me and the kids, okay? We'll be fine. We'll be strong and we'll…" he bit his lip, and laying his forehead against hers, finally allowed the tears to come. "Please don't leave me, Sammie…" a sob broke through his calm demeanour. "Please don't leave me…I can't…I can't do this without you…I can't live without you, baby. I just can't. I'm not as strong as you think I am. And I just can't…you can't do this to me…you can't leave me…not like this…not like this…it wasn't suppose to end this way…we were suppose to go through the rest of our lives together…grow old and grey together…raise our kids together…it wasn't supposed to end like this, Sammie."

Danny used the sleeve of his wrinkled white dress shirt to wipe the tears that spilled down his cheeks. He was taken back by his best friend's display of raw emotion, and unsure of what to do. If he should quietly leave the room or go to Flack and offer some kind of comfort. Flack had never been like this. So open with his feelings.

But then again, he'd never seen his wife of a decade, the mother of his four children and the love of his life on death's door either.

"Don't do this to me…" Flack pleaded, as he pressed kisses to his wife's forehead and cheeks. "Don't leave me like this, Samantha. It was always supposed to be me. I was supposed to go first. Not you, remember? We always said it would be me first because you're stronger than I am and you'd be able to go on without me. You'd be able to take care of the kids properly. You'd hurt for a long, long time but you'd be okay. But me…" he shook his head and pulled back to look at her. "I'm not like you, baby. I can't take care of the kids by myself. I can't function properly…I just can't do this…do life…without you."

Danny stood, his head resting back against the wall and his eyes tightly closed, as he listened to Flack's heavy breathing and the rustle of clothing and sheets as he moved along the bed, his big hands softly smoothing down Sam's blankets and gently fixing her hair.

"I love you, Sammie…" Flack picked her hand up once more and pressed a kiss to each finger. "I love you so much. I've loved you for so long. I'll always love you. And thank you…" his voice threatened to crack once again. "Thank you for giving me the best ten years of my life. For giving me my kids. For sticking by me no matter what. And thank you…thank you for loving me as much as you do."

He broke down completely at last. Laying his head on her chest and sobbing loudly. Unabashedly. His entire body shaking with the force of the grief and fear that poured out of him.

Danny pushed himself away from the wall. Unable to take anymore. Unable to stand there and watch and listen as his normally stoic and tough friend come completely undone. But instead of heading for the door and stepping out into the hallway where he'd be free from the heartbreaking words and the sound of Flack's sobs, he instead walked over the bed and standing beside his best friend, laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's going to be okay, Don…" he said, hoping his words didn't seem as lame and weak to Flack as they did to his own ears. "Sammie's going to be okay. The doctors are going to take good care of her. Fix her up. She's going to be as good as new and in a month or two or whatever, she's going to get the hell out of here. She's going to go home and she's going to go back to nagging and riding your ass and calling you a tool all the time. She's going to be okay. And she needs you to be strong, a'right? Not just for her, but for your kids. And for yourself."

"What am I going to do, Danny?" he stood up and turned his tortured eyes to his best friend. "What am I going to do without her? I've got four kids. What do I tell them? What do I say?"

"Well first, you let someone else worry about that. I'll make some calls and get someone to go and pick up your kids. Bring them here. And you're going to tell them that their mom got hurt at work and that she's going to be sick for a while but she's going to be okay. That she's brave and strong and she loves all of you. That's what you're going to do. Brooklyn's going to be fine. Tiny but damn tough, right?"

Flack nodded.

"She's going to be okay," Danny promised, and lightly tapped Flack's cheek. "I swear to you she's going to be okay."

"I hope so," Flack whispered, then leaned over the bed and pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead.

A knock came to the door before it clicked open softly.

"Detective Flack?" Cass' soft voice filled the room as she poked her head inside. "It's time. We're going to take her up now."

He nodded, and wiping his eyes on the shoulders of his t-shirt, pecked Sam's forehead one last time before running his hand over her hair and down her face. "I'll see you soon, baby," he told her. "In a little while, okay?" he lifted her hand to his lips a final time.

"Time to go, Don," Danny whispered, patting him on the shoulder. "Time to let her go for a little bit. Let the professionals take care of things, okay?"

"Okay…" he reluctantly agreed, and allowed Danny to lead him away from the bed.

Cass held out her hands. In one was a neatly folded set of scrubs, in the other was a small plastic baggy containing Sam's jewellery. Watch, earrings, engagement ring, eternity and wedding bands.

"Thank you," he said, and took the bag. Then the scrubs.

"Someone will take you to the quiet room," she told him. Then placed a hand on his arm as he paused in the doorway and looked back at his wife. "She's in good hands," she promised.

Flack gave a small smile, but couldn't help but silently disagree as he left the room.

She was in God's hands.

* * *

**Whew….so I got that far. Hope it was okay! It was extremely difficult to write. I know I killed her off a year ago at the start of the story, but I didn't think it would be this hard to write the details. There's more to come. As Flack's story regarding what happened isn't even close to being done. Hope you all stick around!**

**As usual, thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers! Please R and R folks!!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall**

**CSINYMinute**

**Madison Bellows**

**HighQueenReicheru**

**Heart2handgun**

**Xsamiliciousx**

**Forest Angel**

**Soccer-bitch**


	117. One Shot Part 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. OBVIOUSLY. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS.**

**A/N: A HUGE THANKS TO EVERYONE THAT NOMINATED ME IN THE AWARDS! I AM TRULY HUMBLED BY THE LOVE YOU GUYS SHOWED ME! MY READERS TRULY ARE MY INSPIRATION AND WHAT KEEPS ME GOING!**

**HUGE THANKS TO MY DEAR FRIEND RACHEL FOR FINDING ME THE PERFECT SONG! HUGS AND KISSES TO YA!**

* * *

**One shot, Part 4: The Waiting Game**

"When the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?  
Lights will guide you home  
and ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below  
when you're too in love to let it go  
If you never try you'll never know  
Just what you're worth

Tears stream down your face  
When you lose something you cannot replace  
Tears stream down your face and I

Tears stream down your face  
I promise you  
I will learn from my mistakes  
Tears stream down your face and I  
Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you."  
-Fix You, Coldplay

* * *

As Flack pushed his way through the public washroom on the fourth floor of Angel of Mercy hospital, the door hit the wall next to it which enough force to crack tiles and splinter wood. Tears blurred his vision as he stumbled for the nearest stall. The enormity of what had happened had hit hard the moment he and Danny had stepped off of the elevator and a grim faced nursed had showed them to a quiet room that was essentially no more than a glorified closet. The space, no bigger than a standard jail cell, was suffocating. Sterile white brick walls, no windows, a stained and beaten tan corduroy couch, two rickety metal chairs with cracked yellow vinyl upholstery and a chipped and cracked coffee table that held nothing more than a half empty box of Kleenexes.

"The surgeon will be along in a few moments to talk to you about your wife," the nurse had said. "If there's any existing DNR, you'll need to…"

Those three initials had hit Flack like a ton of bricks. Flooding him with a recent memory of lying in bed with his wife only three short weeks ago and talking about what he wanted if he ever wound up being gravely injured in the line of duty. If he wound up so messed up that he'd never be a normal functioning human being again. If he was rendered a vegetable or if the doctors were forced to make a split second decision between keeping him alive or letting him go. His personal decision was the latter. He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want to be left lying in a hospital bed, oblivious to everything that was going on around him. If he couldn't respond, if he didn't know that his wife and his kids were there with him and he couldn't feel them squeezing his hand or hear them talking, then he didn't see the point of being left alive. If he had no quality of life and the doctors couldn't guarantee he'd even be a quarter of the man he once was, then his desire was to be put out his misery. If he coded, that was it. He wanted no measures taking to prolong his life. He wanted to go peacefully.

Most of all, he wanted to spare his wife and his kids the agony of seeing him like that. Of having his body right in front of them, but his mind and soul so far out of reach.

Sam had looked at him as if he'd gone insane. As if what he'd said was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard in her entire life. She'd argued that she would want him anyway he came to her. Even if it meant that she had to change his diapers and feed him with a spoon and wipe drool of his face. If she had to quit her job to take care of him full time or if she had to hire someone to do it for her. She was not letting him go that easily. She simply wasn't going to let him slip away. She was going to fight for him and do whatever she had to do to get him home to her and their kids. He'd argued that she was insane. That she couldn't possible handle that kind of stress. That kind of burden.

She'd glared at him the moment those words had slipped from his mouth.

"You're my husband," she'd hissed. "My forever. And you would never, ever be a burden. Understand me?"

In the end they'd agreed to disagree. Or at least go to bed without talking about it further. She wasn't emotionally equipped to hear him talk about death with such calmness and finality. He'd long ago accepted death. He didn't welcome it and certainly didn't wish it upon himself, but he wasn't scared of it in the slightest. As far as he was concerned, when it was his time to go, it was his time to go. Sam however, liked to romanticize everything. Despite dealing in death and sick and twisted shit day in and day out, when it came to her personal life she still had her rose coloured glasses firmly perched upon her nose. She didn't want to hear about him dying. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to consider what life would be like without him. As far as she was concerned, forever meant just that. And when it was his time to leave the world, then she was going right along with him. Old and grey and warm in their bed.

Whether or not she actually believed that and subscribed to it, Flack wasn't entirely sure. Although part of him wondered if thoughts of a peaceful passing made her sleep better at night. If she was able to get through each day a little bit easier if she held on firm to the belief that they'd spend fifty, sixty years together. If her fear of losing him and having to raise their family on their own was so crippling, that she found solace in fantastical ideas.

For the most part, he humoured her. When she became nervous or agitated when he talked about the dark and depressing, he quickly changed the subject and waited weeks before broaching it again. Flack believed in having all of his ducks in a row. In their line of work there was no such thing as too prepared. He made sure he had an up to date will, a decent chunk of change in a savings account he'd set up in Sam's name in case something ever happened to him and she needed money to get by for a while. People that agreed to step up and help take care of his family in his absence. He had a living will that included a strict DNR.

Sam had nothing save for a small savings account and a will that hadn't been updated since Kieran was just months old. And as he was faced with the strong possibility that his wife wasn't going to survive, the realization set in that he had no idea what she would want. What decision she would want him to make if she did live but had no quality of life whatsoever.

It was that stark reality that had his stomach lurching and his weak, trembling legs sending him bolting from the room. The scrubs and the small bag of jewellery slipping from his hands as he left a startled Danny in his wake.

Flack barrelled towards the nearest stall and slammed the door open. The bathroom was blessedly empty as he wasted no time dropping to his knees in front of the toilet. Dry retching several times before finally expelling his stomach contents violently. For long, torturous minutes he stayed in that position, tears streaming down his face as he vomited into the toilet. The nightmarish vision of his wife so helpless and fragile, teetering on death's door hammering home with a vengeance.

When his stomach was empty and nothing but the acrid taste of bile of his mouth and the distinct burn in his throat remained, Flack pushed himself away from the toilet and collapsed into a sitting position, his back resting against the side of the stall. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the cold, metal wall behind him. Sweat glistened on his brow and dripped down his neck and back. His heart thundered deep in his chest. His brain swam with a mixture of thoughts and emotions. He was pissed off at Stella for allowing Samantha to process alone. He was angry at his wife for being so goddamn stubborn and following proper protocol. He was mad that she'd been so careless and so stupid and now her life hung in the balance for her mistake. He was angry and hurting.

But most of all he was frightened and concerned. Worried about her fragile state as she was being prepped for massive surgery. Worried about what he was going to tell his kids. How he would ever possibility explain it to them if their mother didn't make it. How he was going to be able to take care of four kids all on his own. How he'd balance child rearing with the job.

How the hell he'd ever survive without her.

* * *

That was the possibility that frightened him the most. That Sam wouldn't pull through. That he'd walk out of the hospital an hour from now, or a day from now, or a week or a month, a widow. That he would never get the chance to feel her soft, warm lips on his own once again. That he'd never hear her voice or her infectious giggle. That he'd never see her smile or be the brunt of her good natured teasing. And the thought that that morning may have been the very last they ever spent together….

He closed his eyes and banged the back of his head off the stall repeatedly. Attempting to force the negative thoughts and the horrendous images from his mind. His wife's tiny body swallowed up by countless tubes and apparatuses. The pity in his co-workers eyes as he passed them in the hallway. That blood in the ambulance…

_Jesus Christ the blood_, he thought, and bit down hard on his bottom lip in an attempt to quell the nausea that threatened once again. In all of his years on the job, of all the grotesque things that he had seen - decapitations, disembowelment's, dismemberment's, bodies charred beyond recognition- nothing had ever affected him the way seeing his wife's blood pooled on the floor of that ambulance and soaking through those towels and blankets, had. It was personal. It wasn't some stranger that had been brought in on that rig. It wasn't an unknown face or name that he'd been called in to investigate. It wasn't a case he was working on, diligently piecing the puzzle together. This was his loved one. His wife of nine years, the woman he'd shared his life and his bed with for ten years now. The mother of his four kids.

He drew deep breaths into his shuddering lungs, and opening his eyes, used his t-shirt to clear the saliva and vomit off of his lips. It was then that he became fully aware of the blood that streaked his clothing. The streaks along the front of the shirt where he'd wiped his hands. The droplets on the legs of his jeans and his shoes. Holding his hands out in front of him, he was mesmerized at the sight of the blood that was crusted along the edges of his nails, that had embedded itself in the crevices of his palms and knuckles and had turned his skin a pinkish red and completely covered his wedding band.

_The blood… _he thought. _Sammie's blood…it's everywhere…it's all over that ambulance and all over me and I…_

Letting out a choked sob, he stretched his legs out and began frantically rubbing his hands along his thighs. Anxious and desperate to get his wife's blood off of him. The sooner it was the off, the sooner things wouldn't seem so dire. The sooner he could pretend that everything was going to be fine and that she wasn't as bad off as he originally thought.

"Things are going to be okay…" he whispered to himself, as he continued to wipe his hands off on the legs of his jeans. "Sammie's going to be okay…they're going to open her up and fix her and everything's going to be okay…you'll see…she's going to make it…you know she is…you know…"

His words were cut off abruptly as he heard the door to the bathroom squeak open. From under the stall door he could see Danny's boots as he entered the room. The soles clicking lightly along the tiles as the CSI got closer and closer to where he was hiding out.

"Flack?" Danny knocked on the door. "You alright?"

"Yeah…" he answered, his voice shaky. "I'm okay…I just needed to….I just needed to get out of there, you know?"

"I know…" Danny gave a soft sigh. "The surgeon is on his way down. He's going to want to talk to you. Have you sign some papers. So you need to…"

"Get my ass in gear," Flack finished dryly, sniffling noisily as he clambered to his feet.

"Here…" Danny said, as he crouched down and stuck his hands underneath the stall door. The scrub set in one a bottle of water in the other. "I figured you were probably needing a drink. Sorry it's not a stiff one."

Flack didn't respond. Accepting the items offered to him, he dropped the scrubs on the floor and twisting the cap off of the plastic bottle, took a large swig of the ice cold liquid inside. Swishing it around inside of his mouth, he leaned over the toilet and spat the water out. Repeating the process several times until the acrid taste in his mouth was muted. Through the crack in the door and the space underneath, he could see Danny pacing back and forth relentlessly.

"I'm sorry, Flack…" the CSI mumbled. "I never should have made a smart ass comment like that. About a stiff drink. What the hell was I thinking?"

"Don't worry about it," Flack told him, as he reached out to flush the toilet. "No big deal."

"Now is not the time for me to be makin' lame ass jokes," Danny continued, as Flack began undressing in the stall. "Last thing you need right now is me being a smart ass."

"I said don't worry about it," Flack told him, growing more and more agitated by the minute as Danny continued to pace and mutter a bunch of nonsense. Toeing off his runners, he removed his wallet and keys from the back pocket of his jeans and set them on the top of toilet paper holder.

"I can't believe this is happening," Danny's steps increased in speed, his voice wavered with emotion. "This just can't be happening. Why did this have to happen?"

_Why don't you just shut the fuck up?_ Flack thought, as he peeled off his t-shirt and let it drop to the floor before undoing his belt. He hated himself for being that way with Danny. Who'd been his best friend for over two decades. Who'd been his best man at his wedding and who was Kieran's godfather. And who Flack had named one of his twin sons after. Someone who'd always dropped everything, no matter what time of day or what was going on in his own life, to be there for him and Sam and the kids.

_Yeah…but think of all the shit you've done for him,_ a small voice inside of Flack's head piped up, as he pulled to scrub top over his head and shoved his arms into the sleeves. _All the times you put your ass and your badge on the line to help Danny out when he did something stupid. All the times you cancelled dates with your wife or were hours late coming home or you missed something important for the kids because you were helping Danny out. Times you put him before your family._

"This is a fucking nightmare," Danny declared. "Worst fucking nightmare of my life."

Something inside of Flack snapped as his best friend said those words, and he hurriedly tugged on the scrub pants. "Your worst fucking nightmare?" he bellowed, and unlocking the stall door, slammed it open. Startling Danny in the process. "You're nightmare, Danny? Sammie is my wife! The mother of my kids! I've been with her for a decade! Ten years! And all you can do is bitch about this being your worst nightmare? You don't know what the fuck this feels like! My entire life is being ripped away from me!"

"Flack…" Danny held his hands up in self defence. "I never…"

"You never fucking think before you open your mouth!" Flack raged. "Why do you do this, Danny? Why do you always turn something around so it's about you? No matter how big or how small! You always do t! This isn't about you!"

"You're right, Don…you're right…I'm sorry…I never meant to disrespect you or down play what you're going through…I just…I get freaked out and nervous and I just react…badly…I'm sorry…"

"Just…" Flack took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Just you don't know what this feels like, okay? Sure, you're friends with Sammie and you love her in your own way…but she's my wife, Danny. My entire world. So please just…just don't make this about you. For once I need someone to keep me on _my_ feet. I need someone to keep me afloat. And I don't ask for much from anyone."

Danny blinked. His best friend's words penetrating deep. "You better hurry up," he said. "They won't think twice about starting without talkin' to ya first."

Flack nodded and went back to finish dressing. He shoved his feet into his runners and stuffed his wallet and keys into the back pocket of his scrubs and then gathered up his soiled clothing and stepped out of the stall.

"Once Sammie's in surgery I'll start calling people if you want," Danny offered, watching as Flack stopped in the middle of the bathroom and stared down at the clothing in his hands. Silently contemplating what to do with them. "I'll get a hold of Gus…track down Adam at Rikers…find out where Angell is. I know Hawkes has a full day of lectures and Mac's in a meeting with the mayor and the Chief. But I can leave a message for them. If they hadn't already got wind of it by now."

Flack gave a small nod indicating that he'd heard what Danny had said, then crossed the bathroom and tossed his jeans and his t-shirt into the trash. "I left my cell in the truck," he said, and reaching into the back pocket of the scrubs, pulled out his keys and held them out to Danny. "It's sitting on the dashboard I think. Sam's mom's number is in there…so is where Carmen and Rick are staying but I…don't call them, okay? I don't want to fuck up their vacation. I'll see how Sammie does before I do anything about Carmen."

"I'll take care of things," Danny promised, and took the keys and pocketed them. "What about the kids?" he asked, as Flack moved to the sink and turned the water on.

"Mikayla's in day care and the boys are in school." Flack replied, as he soaped up his hands and scrubbed them vigorously under the water. Watching, transfixed, as his wife's blood and hit water splattered against the sides of the white porcelain sink and swirled rapidly down the drain.

"You want me to go there and pull them out or…"

"I don't want them knowing what's going on," Flack shook his head adamantly as he spoke. "I just want them to go on with their day completely oblivious, okay? No sense getting them all worked up and bringing them here to see her. We don't know what's going to happen and we…I don't want them seeing their mother like that."

"Understandable," Danny said, and yanking a handful of paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, offered them to his best friend. "But she's going to be here for a long while Flack. Recovering. And they're going to want to see their mom. They're going to ask questions and…"

"And I'll handle it on my on, alright?" Flack turned off the water and snatched the towels from Danny. "I'll sit them down later and tell them. Just right now…right now I don't know if she going to make it out of that operating room alive."

"Of course she is," Danny waved off the mere thought of her dying. "Doc's gonna fix her up. Good as new. She's going to be fine. I know it. You know it."

"No, Danny…" Flack's voice trembled and tears threatened again. "I don't know that."

The CSI gave a tense smile and laid a hand on the bigger man's shoulder. "We better get you going," he said.

Flack sniffled noisily and wiped his eyes on his forearms. Then allowed himself to be steered towards the door by the solid, firm and supportive grip that Danny had on his shoulder.

* * *

The wait was agonizing.

With each painfully slow sweep of the minute hand and each seemingly deafening tick of the clock mounted above the door of the private waiting area, Flack felt as if his life, and sanity, were slipping further and further out of reach.

It had been two hours since the Doctor Frank Stafford - a well respected and admired cardiothoracic surgeon that had over thirty years of experience behind him- had come into the room and thoroughly discussed the extent of Sam's injuries and what he would be doing in an attempt to fix them. Accompanying him had been the physician who'd been responsible for the initial treatment given in the ER, and a meek and mild medical student who didn't look old enough to drink let alone be tending to the sink, but who'd nearly burst into tears when Flack demanded that no one inexperienced go anywhere near his wife.

"I've got four kids that need their mother!" Flack had growled at the ER doctor when he'd attempted to assure him that all of the students were adequately trained. "And I don't need them living their lives without their mother 'cause of some fucking idiot student that can't chew gum and walk at the same time."

Harsh.

Flack had known it the second the words had slipped out of his mouth, yet he hadn't cared then and he certainly didn't care now as nerves gnawed at his stomach and anxiety kept his heart in its iron fist. As he sat in the middle of a tattered and worn burgundy, green and navy plaid couch that had, in its time, seen a countless amount of worried and frantic family members, he replayed the doctors' grim words in his mind over and over again. His elbows resting on his knees and his hands tightly gripping his hair as his eyes bore into the scuffed beige linoleum at his feet, Flack could hear the grave, yet slightly optimistic voices ringing in his ears.

His chest ached and tears burned his eyes as he thought of the two times that his wife had coded in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and the paramedic tending to her -the same paramedic who'd been attempting to clean his rig and who'd only been on the job for a month- had worked diligently to bring her back. The ER doctor had told him that she'd also coded once during treatment in the triage area, and they'd managed to somehow keep her alive. Once she had been stabilized and intubated, an emergency echo-cardiogram had been ordered and it was then that they'd seen the tear in the aorta. As far as they could tell, it was slight, but causing enough internal blood loss and irregular cardiac rhythms and needed to be tended to as soon as possible. They were worried that the delay in getting her to an OR -both due to wanting to wait for Doctor Stafford and because Danny had insisted that they hold off until Flack could get there, just in case it was the last time he ever saw his wife alive- had caused undue stress on the heart and had worsened the extent of the injury.

Doctor Stafford was confident he could fix whatever mess he found when they opened her chest. Those had been his exact words. He'd done many an open heart surgery and had repaired a hell of a lot worse. Again, his exact words. Their main concern, aside from the state of her heart, was what the lack of oxygen during her 'dead times' as they called it, had done to her brain. The plan was, after her condition stabilized after the operation -could be a day, a week, a month, they weren't exactly sure- they'd order an MRI to properly measure the level of function. A neurologist would study the results and be the one dispatched to give Flack the news. One way or the other. They stressed that there would be some loss of function. Whether it was severe, moderate or mild, only time would tell.

Flack didn't care. He didn't care if he had to quit his job and take care of her himself. He didn't care if he had to change her diapers and feed her with a spoon. He didn't care if he had to be the one to bathe her and dress her and brush her teeth and comb her hair. If he had to teach her to walk and talk again, teach her to read and write. If that's what it came down to, he would do it. Willingly. The only thing that mattered was that she was alive. That she would one day leave that hospital and he'd take her home. And he'd accept her and love her whatever state she was in.

"And then there's the matter of the pregnancy," the ER doctor had piped up after a lull in the conversation.

Out of the corner of his eye, Flack had seen the startled expression that had crossed Danny's face as the CSI sat beside him on the couch. Flack had been taken back himself. Wondering how the hell they'd even known about the baby when Samantha hadn't been the position to tell them about it.

"When we contacted her family physician about known allergies she informed us about the baby," the doctor had quickly explained. "Naturally, with the trauma done to her body, it's safe to say that the fetus didn't survive. But we'll order an ultrasound for a later date. If there's no sign of movement or a heart beat, we'll have to order a D and C to…"

"I know what a D and C does," Flack had interrupted.

"Had she been further along, into the fifth or six month, with the medical tools we have we would have been able to deliver the baby and care for it in the neo-natal intensive care unit. But seeing as she wasn't even fully into her second trimester…"

"Do you think I'm a moron or something?" Flack had snapped. "Do you think I honestly don't know stuff like that? I'm not the smartest guy on the planet, but even _I_ know all of this shit. So just go and…just go and take care of my wife and stop wasting all your time talking to me. Just go and look after her."

The surgeon had nodded and then shoved an impossibly thick stack of papers in Flack's face. All the I's had to be dotted and all the T's had to be crossed. The hospital needed to cover their ass in case the operation went completely down the toilet and she ended up dying right there on the table. They needed to make sure that if she didn't rebound after they'd done everything remotely possible for her, Flack wasn't going to turn around and claim they hadn't done enough and sue their asses.

And most of all, they needed to make sure that all insurance and forms of payment were in order. Because they weren't going to even touch her until they knew they'd get paid for all of their hard work. He'd provided them with the information they wanted. The health insurance they privately paid for on top of the benefits she received through the NYPD. As a member of the crime lab, she wasn't entitled to the same form of coverage as he was, nor was he allowed to claim her on her plan because she was employed by the department. It was a nightmare of red tape and utter bullshit as far as Flack was concerned, but he kept those thoughts to himself as he signed his life away.

Literally.

With each signature he scrawled, he was in essence handing Sam to them. Putting his utmost faith and trust in these men who made a living a playing God.

And that thought terrified him.

* * *

The surgery, they'd said, barring no complications, would take an hour. Flack had spent that sixty minutes alternating between pacing the tiny room and putting his hands on the wall and dropping his head to his chest and closing his eyes in an attempt to kept himself calm. Outwardly, he was holding it together. The trembling in his hands had finally subsided and the lump in his throat and the tears and his eyes had, for now, abated. But inside he was a wreck. Unable to sit still. Unable to quell the nausea that continuously threatened. Unable to stop himself from thinking the worst.

Danny hadn't said a word about the surprise pregnancy after the doctors had left. And Flack was grateful for that. He wasn't in the mood to be dolling out explanations or making excuses. And, as evil as it made him sound, he honestly didn't care. While he'd been ecstatic about the prospect of becoming a father for the fifth and final time and had been excited about attending ultrasound and doctors appointments with her and creating a nursery and picking a name, the truth was that the moment Danny had delivered the news about the shooting, all thoughts of the baby had ceased to exist. Flack's one and only concern was his wife. And if it had have come down to picking between Sammie's life and well being and that of their unborn child…well there was no question about it. He'd pick her in heart beat.

If and when she was well enough, maybe another baby would be in the cards. Right now, it wasn't meant to be and he accepted that.

What he couldn't accept was losing her. He couldn't bear the thought of facing a life without her. And even though she was merely a hundred yards down the hall with medical personnel hovering around her and tending faithfully to her, she seemed so far away.

So close yet so damn far.

There'd been no word. No doctor, no nurse had come down to tell him what the hell was going on. No explanation save for the horrific thoughts coursing through his brain to why it was taking so long. His mind screamed at him that something had gone wrong. That they'd run into some kind of problem and were either trying to fix it or hadn't been able to and she had died.

They'd come and tell you that though, he rationalized, and giving his hair a firm tug, ran his hands over his weary face. Taking a deep, quivering breath, he released it slowly and cast a glance at the clock one more time.

Two hours and fifteen minutes, he thought, nervously patting his knees before standing up and commencing the frantic pacing from earlier. The soles of his shoes squeaked softly on the tiles, mixing in with ticking of the clock. His eyes focused on nothing as he moved around the small, claustorphobic room, his hands firmly on his hips. Danny had quickly gone stir crazy and had left in a pursuit of hot coffee, and to make the phone calls he'd discussed with Flack earlier. Leaving him alone with his thoughts. None of which were good.

The door clicked open and he wheeled around in anticipation, mentally preparing himself for both the arrival of the surgeon, and for the worst case scenario. Then feeling deflated as Danny slipped into the room, a carry tray of coffees in one hand and Flack's cell phone in the other.

"Nothing, huh?" Danny asked.

"You're a master of obvious, Messer," Flack responded. Feeling like a complete shit for it the moment the words escaped from his mouth.

The CSI ignored the comment as he crossed the room in three strides and dropped the carry tray and phone on the coffee table.

"This can only be bad news, right?" Flack asked, as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "It was only suppose to take an hour. We'll be pushing two and a half soon. That can't be good, right? Means something went wrong?"

"Means there was some kind of set back," Danny replied, and plopping down on the couch, leaned forward and yanked his coffee out of the holder. "Doesn't mean it was a bad one. Could have been something to do with the doctors, something to do with their equipment. Anything. Doesn't mean that something happened to Sammie."

Flack nodded. Although he knew that Danny was just attempting to make him feel better. That the other man knew just as well as he did that something had gone down in that operating suite. Something that had nothing to do with the medical professionals performing the operation or the tools they were using. But had everything to do with their patient.

"Come and sit down and have a coffee," Danny said. The tone of his voice and the grave look on his face made it seem more like a demand.

Flack reluctantly pushed himself away from the wall and joined his best friend on the tattered couch.

"Black, two sugars," Danny said, pulling the second cup from the tray and holding it out to the detective.

"I haven't taken two sugars in a long time, Dan-o," Flack reminded him as he took the drink. "Ever since the doctor got one me about my diet three months ago and my wife proceeded to nag me about it every day."

"Well she's not here," Danny said. "And what she doesn't know won't kill her."

The words hung in the air. Danny bit his lip and closed his eyes. Horrified with himself for saying something so goddamn insensitive at the most difficult time of his best friend's life.

"Jesus Flack…" he shook his head and looked at the detective who was staring down at the coffee cup clutched between his hands. "I did not mean that. My mouth…it runs away with itself sometimes…I didn't mean to say something like that…I mean, I did but I…I didn't mean it to be disrespectful to you or Sammie considering everything that's going on. I never…"

"Sam and I were waiting until she got into the second trimester to tell anyone," Flack blurted out, as he tore off the plastic tab on the lid of the coffee. "About the baby."

Danny nodded slowly. He didn't know what to say. And the words that did pop into his head seemed highly inadequate.

"After that miscarriage between Kieran and the twins and then the one before Mikayla, we were always really paranoid," the other man continued. "We didn't want to get ourselves and our friends and family all worked up and then have to let us and them down if something bad happened. So Sammie…Sammie wanted to wait. She said she felt better waiting until she got past the twelfth week. 'Cause less can go wrong after that, right?"

Danny gave another nod.

"We weren't trying to hide anything from anyone," Flack said, and took a sip of coffee. "We were just…I guess we were just protecting ourselves, you know? And trying to get used to the idea of being parents again. We weren't exactly planning on it. Considering I was supposed to be going in and getting neutered as she likes to call it."

Danny smirked at that. "It's what you get for letting her watch too much Price Is Right. Isn't that what they always used to say at the end of the show? Remind people to get their pets spayed or neutered?"

Flack gave a grin and a nod. "She used to say it and I'd bitch at her that I wasn't some lap dog. And she'd get that little smile of hers. You know, the one that makes her look like this little kid up to completely no good? That Dennis the Menace smile? She'd give me that smile and she'd tousle my hair or squeeze my arm and say, 'But you are my pet, Donnie. Think about how much you like to have your belly rubbed and get scratched behind your ears. And think about how much time I've spent training you.'"

Danny couldn't help but laugh.

"I'd get so pissed at her for talking like that. Give her shit. Truth was…truth was I always liked the way she teased me. She was never mean about it, you know? She was always laughing when she did it, always smiling. So that I'd know she was just yanking my chain. And she was so good at it. With getting on my ass and fraying my nerves."

Danny sipped his coffee. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the way Flack's hands trembled as he gripped the coffee cup tightly. And when he glanced over he saw the tears that threatened in his best friend's blue eyes and the agony that was evident on his face.

"She just…she just makes it hard to be mad at her for very long," Flack said, and took a swig of his coffee in hopes of washing down the lump of emotion laying in his throat.

Danny laid a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "She's going to be okay, Don. You just gotta…you just gotta relax and think positive, okay?"

"It's hard," Flack said, his voice a near whisper. "It's so hard."

"I know…I know that it's killing you inside and that there's a million and one thoughts running through your brain and not one of them are good. And I don't blame ya one bit for thinking those things. But you getting yourself worked up? That's not what Sammie needs. She needs you to be focused and strong. You being there for her is what's going to help her get the hell out of here sooner."

"I don't care how long it takes," Flack declared. Setting his coffee down on the table in front of him, he placed his elbows on his knees and began nervously wringing his hands together. "I don't care if she's in here for a month. Six months. A year. As long as she comes home to me and the kids."

"And she will," Danny assured her. "But you heard what the doc said, Flack. When she's strong enough to be released, she's going to have to go to a live in rehab place. She won't be able to just walk out of here and go home with you. There's going to be some kind of brain problems…we don't know how severe but you've got to expect that."

"I do expect that. I'm preparing myself for that," Flack said, the thumb and forefinger of his right hand fiddling with absentmindedly with his wedding ring. Twirling it around, pulling it up to his knuckle and sliding it back down into his place. Over and over again. "And I don't care what's wrong with her. I don't care what I have to do to get her what she needs. I meant what I said to them. I'll quit my job and stay home to take care of her. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, Danny."

"And that's admirable, Don. It really is. But you…think about what it will be like for you, for the kids, if there's severe brain damage. If she can't do anything for herself and you have to…"

"Then I do everything for her," Flack interjected. "I take care of her like she's a little baby. I clean her, I feed her, I…"

"And you think that she'd want that?" Danny asked. "You think that she'd want you to quit your job and want you to do that?"

"It's not about what she wants. It's what I want. And she…"

"You're wrong, Don. It is what about what Sam wants. This is her life we're talking about. Her well being. And she loves you and she wouldn't want you to do that to yourself. To give up being a cop to become a full time home care nurse. She wouldn't want you to take on that kind of burden."

"My wife is not a burden," Flack's eyes narrowed, there was vehemence in his voice. "Whatever she needs, I'll do it. And it's not your place to talk me out of that."

"No one is trying to talk you out of anything. I'm just trying to make you see the other side to this coin. I know how much you love her and adore her and worship her. And I know that you'd walk to the ends of the earth and back for her. I know you'd give her the moon and then some if you could…"

"I'd lie down and die for her, Danny. I would have taken that bullet for her."

"I know that. Believe me, I know that. But this has happened and this is Sam. Not you. And you need to…" Danny sighed heavily and shook his head. "You need to sit back and think about what Samantha would want. About whether she'd want you to take on the responsibility of taking care of her like that. If she'd want you to see her like that. If she'd want the _kids_ to see her like that."

Flack nodded slowly as the weight and importance of Danny's words struck home.

"You're no less of a man, and it doesn't mean you love her any less if you feel you can't handle something like that. If you feel like she's better off somewhere where people who are qualified to provide that kind of care can look after her. Just 'cause you find a nice place for her doesn't mean…"

"I am not putting my wife in some kind of goddamn nursing home," Flack snarled. "She goes to that rehab joint and she comes home. Plain and simple."

"Okay…so then you hire someone that can look after her. It doesn't mean you don't love her 'cause you can't saddle the responsibility yourself. 'Cause it's going to be a long and hard road. I saw what it did to my mom when she took Louie in after the beating. With his brain injury…you know what he was like Flack. He had the mentality of a ten year old. If that. And he had those violent outbursts and my mom…it broke her, Don. You know that."

He nodded.

"And I don't want that happening to you. That's all I'm saying. And I want you to know that if you feel you can't handle it…well I won't think any less of you. And neither will Sam. You just have a think on all of that, okay?" Danny rubbed his best friend's shoulder comfortingly. "You got a long time before you have to make any decision like that. I just want ya to know that I'm here and I'll be here and you can come to me with anything. A'right?"

Flack gave another nod and cleared his throat noisily. His fingers continued to play with his wedding band as his eyes remained riveted on the floor. Silence fell between the door men. Once again the ticking of the clock seemed deafening to their ears.

"I'm sorry," Flack said at long last.

Danny sipped his coffee. "For what, buddy?"

"Losing it like I did in the room earlier. Acting like I did. I shouldn't have…"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Don. What the hell are you sorry for? Breaking down over your gravely injured wife? The woman you've been with for over a decade? Whose given you four kids. For crying and for being scared? For being human?"

Flack sighed heavily.

"What went on in there…the things that I saw and what I heard…that was between you and Sam. And it stayed in that room. I'm not going to…just it stays between you guys, okay?"

"Thank you," Flack said, his voice hoarse.

"Don't even apologize for loving her as much as you do," Danny said, as he struggled with his own emotions. "Never apologize for being afraid."

"I am afraid," Flack admitted. "I'm terrified, Danny. I'm scared of losing her. Of what my life will be like without her. And I can't…"

He was interrupted by the door clicking open and Doctor Stafford poking his head into the room. Still in his scrubs, a surgical cap still firmly planted on his head and the mask will dangling around his neck. He gave a tense smile before stepping into the room to deliver his news. Taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table and facing the two men.

"The surgery didn't exactly go the way we had planned it," he began, choosing his words carefully. "There were some minor complications that slowed things down."

"What kind of complications?" Danny asked.

"The aorta suffered massive trauma that we weren't able to notice on the echo-cardiogram. And when we went in we found that it was almost completely severed…."

Flack felt his entire body tense up. "And?" he asked.

"Our first attempt at reattaching it was futile," the doctor replied. "Trying actually caused it to completely detach and caused severe blood loss and cardiac arrest…"

Flack shook his head and burying his face in his hands, tunnelled his fingers into his hair.

Danny laid a hand on his best friend's back. "So is she alive or…"

"We were able to successfully restore the function of the heart and reattach the aorta," the surgeon told the two men. "The heart is beating, but not well enough to shoulder the burden on it's own."

"Okay…" Danny let out a shaky breath. "So…"

"We're going to, for the time being until the heart shows it's strong enough to sustain her body, leave her on life support. If that's what her family wants."

"What will happen if I take her off of it?" Flack asked, his eyes on the floor, hands fisting his hair. "And don't bullshit me with facts and statistics. I want you, in your honest opinion and with all of your experience, to tell me what will happen to her."

The doctor sighed heavily. "In case like this that I've seen before…death would be near instantaneous."

Flack shook his head and let out a choked sob.

"I know it's a hard decision to make," Doctor Stafford told him. "And it's one that I wouldn't want to have to make myself. But we need to know if you want us to keep her on life support."

"Chances of recovery?" Danny asked.

"Well the next forty-eight hours are critical, obviously. But physically? When and if the heart is well enough to support her, she should have a complete recovery within a few months."

"But mentally?" Flack inquired.

"That's something that an MRI and a neurologist would have to tell you," the surgeon told him. "I'm sorry that I can't give you a better idea on that, Detective Flack."

"What's the odds of her heart being well enough?" Danny asked. "What kind of percentage are we looking at?"

"If she doesn't suffer another cardiac event within the next forty eight hours? I'd put it between a fifty to sixty percent chance."

"Good odds," the CSI mumbled.

"It's a lot of news at once to digest," the doctor said. "But we need to know where you stand, Detective Flack, on the life support issue."

Flack sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Weighing the odds, contemplating the options and what both meant in the long term to not only his wife, but himself and their family as well. He gave a nod as he made his decision and looked up at the doctor.

"I want her left on the machines," he said.

"I'll pass the word along to the staff in the intensive care unit," Doctor Stafford told Flack, and got to his feet. "We're sending her there now. In a few minutes I'll have a nurse come and escort you there."

"Thank you," Danny said and standing, offered his hand to the surgeon. "For everything," he added.

The doctor gave a nod and small smile and shook the other man's hand. "I did what I could. The rest now…well the rest is up to her."

"She's a tough girl," Danny said. "Small but mighty. She's going to be just fine."

"I'm sure she will," the doctor told him. "God speed to both of you."

"Thank you," Danny gave an appreciative nod and watched as the doctor quickly strode from the room. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair and turned to face Flack who sat motionless and silent, his hair fisted in his hands. "You going to be okay, Don?" he asked.

He nodded. "I just…I just need to know that I made the right decision. That I didn't do it just 'cause I'm a selfish bastard. 'Cause I can't let her go and live without her…I need to know that I did what was best for her and just not what was best for myself."

Danny didn't respond. He had his own personal feelings and beliefs, but wasn't about to push them on his best friend. Had he been in the same predicmant and it had been Erica going through the same ordeal…well he knew he would have made the opposite decision to what Flack had. But it was just that. Flack's decision. And it wasn't up to Danny to question it, or judge him for it.

He walked over to the couch and laid a gentle hand on the back of his best friend's neck. Not speaking or moving away when Flack circled his waist with his arms and buried his face in Danny's stomach and broke down.

"It's gonna be okay, Don…" he whispered. "You'll see…Sammie's going to be okay…"

Danny only hoped two things. That his words were neither falling on deaf ears, or completely groundless.

* * *

**A massive thanks to all of those that are reading and reviewing! And all of those just lurking! This story has been a labour of love and has continued to rock me emotionally. And I appreciate all of your support and amazing words, especially for the more difficult, painful future chapters. **

**Please R and R folks!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Hope4sall**

**CSINYMinute**

**High Queen Reicheru**

**Madison Bellows**

**ImaSupernaturalCSI**

**Anncorcam**

**xSamiliciousx**

**Heart2handgun**

**wolfeylady**

**Delko's Girl 88**

**Forest Angel**

**Soccer-bitch**


	118. One shot Part 5 An Angel Named Bronwyn

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS. GUS BROUSSARD BELONGS TO THE FABULOUS MADISON BELLOWS! CONGRATS ON WINNING THE ADAM/OC STUFF MADDY!**

**A SPECIAL WARM WELCOME TO VANESSA J!!!**

* * *

**One shot Part Five: An Angel Named Bronwyn**

"If you get there before I do  
Don't give up on me  
I'll meet you when my chores are through  
I don't know how long I'll be  
But I'm not gonna let you down  
Darling wait and see  
And between now and then  
Till I see you again  
I'll be loving you  
Love me  
Between now and then till I see you again  
I'll be loving you Love me."  
-Love, Me, Collin Raye

* * *

Flack woke with a start at the sound of movement from alongside of his wife's bed. He shot up into a sitting position and his eyes snapped open, immediately focusing through the haze of sleep on the young, strawberry blond nurse - Bronwyn Caldwell, a recent nursing school grad- clad in mint green scrubs that was busying herself with changing Sam's IV and catheter bags. The rustling of her clothing, the soft squeak of her shoes along the tiles and the hiss of the respirator keeping Sam alive nearly deafening in the heavy silence of the room.

There had been a brief glimmer of hope surge through his weary mind right before he'd opened his eyes that maybe the sound was actually a sign that his wife was coming to. That she was awake and moving around in the bed, making any noise possible to capture his attention. And for that one millisecond , excitement had surged through him and his heart threatened to leap clear out of his chest as his brain considered the possibility, that against the odds, she'd come back to him.

Irrational thoughts, of course. It had only been two days since her shooting. Although with little to no sleep and a steady diet of coffee and miniscule bites of food he forced himself to consume, it had seemed as if two decades had already passed. Sam's body was nowhere near ready to sustain itself, and the doctors were pumping her full of meds, keeping her in a deep, medically induced coma in the hopes it would encourage her injuries and the repairs done to fix them to heal faster. And he knew, logically, that there was no way that she would come of the coma on her own.

Constant observation of her vitals had shown no signs of further cardiac events following surgery. She had successfully crossed the crucial forty eight hour mark, and the second that the second hand had clicked over leading into the forty ninth hour, Flack had breathed a massive sigh of relief and thanked God for small miracles. An MRI scan just hours before had, unfortunately, given the doctors a sign that there had been some loss of brain function, although due to the meds, they couldn't give Flack any idea of how big or small the impairment would be. There was a possibility that there was little more than a loss in short or long term memory. Or that her speech had been affected in some way. Or even her eyesight and hearing.

Or that, on a much grander scale, she'd have to re-learn some, of even all, of her gross and fine motor skills. The worst fear was that she'd been permanently reduced to a child like state. There was simply no telling what had occurred until she was ready to be brought gradually out of the coma. And they weren't optimistic that they'd be doing that any time soon.

But with each hour that passed -hell, with each minute- without her condition deteriorating, Flack felt himself becoming more and more positive about her long term prognosis. Sammie was strong. She was tiny in stature and slight in weight, but she was huge in guts. There was no doubt -during his moments of emotional high that was- that the woman he'd fallen so quickly and deeply in love with ten years ago was going to make it. Two days ago he'd all but been planning her funeral.

And now…now there was some hope. And instead of making choices regarding funeral homes and hours of visitations and what he'd bury her in and what flowers and music he'd have at the church, he was beginning to think more long term. About taking time off of work when she was moved to a rehab facility so he could spend every waking moment helping her through her recovery. About making changes around the house to make things more accessible for her when she did finally come home. He'd decided he'd turn the office on the first floor into either a bedroom just for her, or a place for both of them to sleep. He considered taking a pension pay out and staying home full time to care for her. Or even taking out a second mortgage on the house and hiring a professional to do it.

It wasn't all doom and gloom now. The doctors had tossed him a shred of hope. And Flack was desperately clinging to it.

"I'm sorry Detective Flack. I didn't mean to wake you," the nurse gave a gentle smile and spoke in a whisper despite the fact Samantha would in no way, shape or form be disturbed if she used her normal tone of voice. And there were no other patients to be concerned about. Samantha was in a private room at the very back of the intensive care unit. With a uniform officer parked outside of her door morning, noon and night and strict security in place at the front desk allowing only registered visitors on a list provided by Flack himself, near her room.

"It's okay…" he assured the young woman, and straightening up in the easy chair -a surprisingly comfortable blue vinyl contraption- he stretched until his back and shoulders cracked noisily.

He'd yet to make use of the fold out cot that hospital staff had brought him but still remained tucked into the corner. Danny had slept on it the first night, refusing to leave Flack or Sam's side and acting as supplier of the coffee and family spokesman for the hordes of media that still remained camped out in front of the hospital and often lingered around the front entrance of the ICU. For the last two days, Flack had taken up residence in the easy chair, catching limited and restless sleep with either his feet propped on the Sam's bed, or pulling the seat alongside of her and drifting off with his head resting on her thigh and both of his hands holding hers tightly. He'd barely left her side in the last forty eight hours. Danny had brought him some clothes and he was making use of the shower and toilet and sink that came with the private room. The nurses brought him magazines and books to read and fresh pillows and blankets every night and always made sure that he had hospital meals delivered. Three squares a day. Not the most edible or tasty food in the world, but it wasn't as if he felt much like eating. Edie, a fiery red head who'd come to New York City via Scotland three decades ago and had been the head nurse on the word for the past ten years, always brought him leftovers of meals she and her family had eaten themselves. And some of her baked goods. She had taken him, and Sam under her wing, and she was a protective Momma Bear.

Gus and Adam had 'moved' themselves into the house to take care of the kids. Adam, after a heartbreaking meltdown at the side of his sister's bed just an hour after she'd gotten out of surgery, was now holding himself together remarkably well. He was the one who' offered his and Gus' helped, and who'd explained to the boys exactly what had happened to their mother. Comforting them when they cried and soothing their fears by assuring them that mommy was strong and that only the best doctors were looking after her. He'd made the decision to keep them out school. He was worried that with Sam's shooter still out there and the knowledge of her survival widespread, that it would make the boys targets. And that they'd hear rumours in the hallways and perhaps even face teasing by kids without any compassion and absolutely no brains.

Flack knew however, that the younger man's stoic, brave front was just that. An attempt to keep himself sane during such a horrific, nightmarish moment in his life. That inside, Adam was sick with worry and no doubt thinking the worst twenty four hours a day.

And crying a hell of a lot of tears into his pillow when everyone else in the house was asleep.

Despite the incredible bond he and Sam shared, Adam had opted to stay away from the hospital. He had, in his usual nervous, rambling fashion, apologized profusely to Flack when he explained exactly why. He couldn't bear just sitting at Sammie's bedside and waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was unnerved seeing her in such a condition, and scared shitless that she would take a turn for the worse while he was in the room with her. That, he said, he just couldn't handle. If something like that was going to be happen, he didn't want to be standing there freaking out and feeling completely helpless and useless.

Flack completely understood. He didn't expect Adam, or anyone else for that matter, to be there twenty four seven. And quite frankly -and maybe even a tad selfishly- he preferred the solitude and the moments alone with his wife. He hated people coming into the room and then standing by the bed in completely silence, not knowing what to say or how to act. He hated seeing the pity in their eyes. Hearing it in their voices. And most of all, he hated the awkward comments that tumbled out of their mouths. About how good she looked 'considering' and how peaceful she seemed. How it appeared as if nothing had ever happened to her and she was just sleeping. Comments like that made him want to smack the shit of someone and grab them by the shoulders and shake some sense into them. All the while yelling at them that something did happen to her. Something goddamn serious and he was sick and fucking tired of them downplaying it like she was just there to get her tonsils or her appendix removed. He hated them lessening the enormity of what had happened and the way it disrespected the valiant struggle Sam was going through and the agony he and his family were enduring.

* * *

"How are we doing this morning pretty girl?" Bronwyn asked her patient, compassion in her voice and jade green eyes as she gently picked up Sam's left hand and clipped a sensor to her middle finger. It would measure pulse and heart beat, oxygen levels and temperature. And Flack knew, because of the respirator and the EKG machine that Sam was already hooked up to, that the only stat that mattered at this point in time was the last one. A fever was sure sign of an infection, and it was one of the things the doctors worried about the most. "I heard that your beautiful babies came to visit you in the afternoon," she continued, turning to press a button on the monitor alongside of her. "How did that go?" she asked, direction the question at Flack.

"Better than I thought it would," he admitted, and placing his elbows on his knees, ran his hands over his tired, scruffy face. "I don't think they really get how serious it is. I think my brother in law has pretty much convinced them that their mommy is going to be okay. That the doctors have fixed her up and now are keeping her asleep until her body tells them it's time to wake her up. I mean, I think they get that it's going to be a long time. But I don't think it's occurred to them that she might die."

"That's because she isn't going to," Bronwyn declared confidently. "We're taking good care of you, aren't we Sam?" she gave a small and reached out to brush hair off of her patient's forehead. "We're going to get you through all this scary stuff. We're going to make sure that you're good and strong and then we're going to bring you back to your adorable kids and your handsome police man."

Flack felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth.

"We just have to be patient about it," the young nurse continued. "We can't rush these things. The longer God has you in his care, the healthier you'll be. So you just lie back and sleep and let us do our thing. One day, you're going to open those pretty eyes of yours and you're going to smile and you're going to let us know that you're okay. But don't rush it. Just take things nice and slow. Patience is a virtue."

"Then you're talking to the wrong person," Flack chuckled. "'Cause my wife has absolutely zero patience."

"Well she must have some," the nurse said, as the machine beside her beeped noisily. "I mean she got married and had four kids. To do that a woman needs an infinite amount of patience."

"I take it you don't have kids," Flack commented.

"Nope. And no husband either. And I'm perfectly happy without either."

"It's not for everyone," he said. "Marriage and kids…definitely not for everyone."

"I think I'm just too selfish to give all of myself to someone," she admitted, as she nodded her approval at the numbers on the screen and removed the sensor from Sam's finger. "No temperature sweets," she said, as she straightened her patient's blanket and tucked it tightly around her. "That's a good thing. You're having a pretty stellar two days if you ask me."

Flack nodded in agreement. His knees cracked as he stood up, and approaching the bed, placed his hands lightly on his wife's shin. "So things look okay?" he asked hopefully.

"Considering the trauma that was done during the shooting and the extensive surgery she underwent, she's doing phenomenally well," Bronwyn assured him. "There's a long road ahead, but there's a light at the end of it. There's been no real issues since the operation and her vitals are strong. As for the MRI…"

Flack sighed heavily at the mention of those three simple letters and tightened his grip on his wife's legs, his eyes riveted on her face.

"I know that it wasn't what you were hoping to hear," the young nurse said, and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "But things could always be worse. There could be no brain activity at all and all of this…all of this would be for nothing. She's a fighter. I can tell. And you just have to keep reminding yourself of that. And telling yourself that considering what's happened to her, those MRI results are actually good news considering what could have gone down."

He nodded in agreement.

"Just stay strong," she encouraged, and squeezed his arm comfortingly. "For not just Samantha, but for yourself, Detective Flack."

"Don," he told her. "My name's Don. You can call me that. I mean, if you want to."

She smiled.

"I just figured seein' as you call my wife by her first name and I call you by yours…"

"Things are going to start looking up Don," she told him. "You just need to give her some time. You need to sit back and give her some time to recover. To find her way out of the darkness. I don't know how long that will take. Days, weeks, months. Years even? But you need to stay strong and remain positive. She deserves nothing less from you."

"I know…" he said, swallowing noisily in an effort to rid himself of the lump of emotion that threatened to choke him.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on her again," Bronwyn told her. "If you need anything, just call for me. I'll be here in a heartbeat."

"Thank you," he said, and managed a small smile. "For everything. For being so good to Sammie."

"My father was in the FDNY," Bronwyn told him. "Served for over thirty years. He was a strong, burly man. Tough as nails all my life. He came down with lung cancer after September Eleventh. The doctor said it was caused by all the toxins in the air at Ground Zero. My dad worked tirelessly on the recovery efforts. He suffered for nine months. I watched him go from this strong, tough man to nothing more than a withered shell of himself. He spent his last days at a hospice in Albany. And the nurses…" she sighed heavily. "The nurses were incredible with him. And with us. And I made the decision right there and then to go into the profession. And to always treat my patients with that kind of compassion and respect."

Flack gave a small nod and a tight lipped smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "About your father."

"He was a good man," she said sadly. Then immediately steeled herself and brightened up once again. "He lived a good life. Fought hard. And your Sammie…your Sammie is fighting hard too. And you should be proud of her for getting this far."

"I am…" he told her, an adoring smile on his lips and a loving glint in his eyes as he gazed upon his wife.

"I'll be back soon," Bronwyn promised, and with a final pat on his shoulder, turned on her heel and left the room, pulling her fully stocked cart and old supplies behind her.

* * *

As the door closed with a soft click, announcing the young nurse's departure, Flack sighed heavily and stepped around the foot of the bed. A hand gently trailing over his wife's body. Skimming over the top of her foot and down along her left. Across her left hand as it lay motionless and limp on the bed. His eyes never leaving her pale face as his fingertips glided over her satiny skin. Along her slender fingers and over her wrist, travelling the length of her arm until he both reached her shoulder and stood alongside the head of the hospital bed.

He smiled down at her, then grazed his knuckles along her cheek.

"Mornin' baby," he greeted tenderly, then smoothing her hair away from her face, leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. His right hand rested lightly on the top of her head as the fingers of his left curled around one of her hands, careful to mind the numerous tubes that invaded her delicate skin. "Hope you slept okay…" he spoke in a quiet, soft voice. "Hope you had lots of sweet dreams. No bad ones I hope."

Flack paused and drew back and looked down at her. Waiting for something. Anything. A flicker of her eyes. A twitch in her fingers or toes. A change in her heart rate. And while he knew that medically, she was currently too far gone to respond to him, the protective, loving husband side of him wanted some kind of sign.

"Doctors say that you're doing pretty good," he continued, combing his fingers through her hair. "That you're healing nicely. Slowly but surely. And you don't have a temperature or anything so we know that things are going okay after the operation. That they fixed and patched you up and now it's just a matter of waiting. It's all up to you, okay? It's all up to you, Sammie. I know how strong you are. And I know right now you're fighting to find your way back to us. Back to me and the kids. But don't rush it, okay? Don't rush it 'cause you think it's what we want. We want you back but we want you back healthy. We'll wait for you, Sammie. No matter how long that takes. So you just take things at your own pace and we'll be here waiting for you. There's no rush."

He fell silent again. Eyes searching his wife's face as the hiss of the respirator and the beeping of the EKG machine once again became the only sounds in the room. "Sammie…" he pressed a kiss to her temple and settled his lips near her ear. "I don't know if you can hear me. The doctor says that you can but I just…I don't know. I hope you can. I hope you're hearing everything that I'm saying to you. I hope that you heard the boys when they were here yesterday. We miss you. And it's so hard…" his voice threatened to break. "I miss you, baby. And I love you so much and I just want you to come back to me. That's all I want. I need you to come back to me."

Entangling his fingers in her hair, Flack closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the side of his wife's face. Her skin, despite being deathly pale, was warm and smooth and he found solace in the soft powdery scent that clung to her. The nurses had given her a sponge bath the night before and smoothed moisturizing cream over every inch of her skin and the smell calmed and soothed him during his low, dark moments.

For several long, silent moments he stood alongside of the bed, his fingers tunnelled in her hair and his hand gripping hers tightly. Allowing tears to seep through his tightly closed eyes and trickle onto her cheek.

"I love you Sammie…" he whispered and pressed his lips to her temple. "I love you and I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere. I promise you. I'll be right here."

He kissed her forehead once more, and gathering his emotions, removed his fingers from her hair and released her hand and stepped back from the bed.

"How about we get some sunshine in here?" he asked, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his NYPD t-shirt as he journeyed around the bed and walked over to the window.

Drawing the blinds back, he blinked as bright early morning sunlight streamed into the room. Four stories below, various hospital staff lingered in a central courtyard. Taking smoke breaks, sipping coffee, laughing and chatting about their mornings and about weekend plans. Going about their every day lives as if there wasn't so much death and sadness and illness hovering around them. And seeing that…seeing them acting so nonchalant about the issues in life and smiling when there was so much heartache existing around them, Flack felt bitter and disgusted. That he and countless others of family members inside of that hospital were sitting by the bedsides of gravely ill loved ones. Preparing to say their last goodbyes and praying against all odds that their loved one was going to make a recovery. And all that mattered to those beyond the walls were that their lattes were made incorrectly or that they couldn't get the flavour of muffin they'd wanted at café in the main lobby. As if such things made a lick of difference in the grand scheme of things. And he angrily wished for something to happen to one of them. Not something life or death, but something that would affect them personally or someone close to them. To teach them just how petty and ridiculous their issues were compared to 'real life'.

Sighing heavily, he turned away from the window and raked his fingers through his hair. "Gonna be a nice day out today Sammie," he said, as he approached the bed once again. "If you were feeling up to it we'd be able to take you for a nice long walk. Get you some fresh air. Adam's taking the boys to the zoo today. Apparently there's some new exhibit with the tigers. And you know how Mackenzie just goes crazy over the tigers," Flack gave a chuckle. "Adam doesn't know what he's in for. He's never taken all three boys at once. Can you imagine? He'll be insane in the first ten minutes trying to keep up with them. And Mikayla…well Gussie is going to take her to Macy's and get some pictures taken of her. In that little white and purple flowered sundress and the little white hat you bought her for summer. We haven't had pictures of Mikki taken in a long time. I figure I can get one, put it in a nice frame and bring it her. Put it by your bed. Would you like that?"

No answer came of course. Not that Flack actually expected one. But he had found, despite his initial resistance at first, that talking to his wife actually kept him sane. It kept his brain functioning properly and the dreadful thoughts away if he talked about the kids and the weather and things he'd seen on the news the night before or had read in the newspaper.

"How about we get you cleaned up a bit?" he asked, as he opened the top drawer on the bedside table and removed a fresh, dry face cloth, Sam's hair brush from home and two tortoise shell barrettes he'd asked Danny -who'd looked at him as if he'd gone insane- to procure from the inside of Sam's trinket box in the en-suite bathroom back at the house. "We'll freshen you up," he told his wife, as he placed the brush the hair clips on the bed. "It'll make you feel a bit better, okay? I'll be right back."

The face cloth in hand, he walked across the room and into the small bathroom. Flicking the light on, he went to the sink, and turning on the hot water, thoroughly wet the cloth before twisting it tightly in his hands, riding it off excess water. Snagging a towel from the metal shelving above the toilet, he journeyed back into the room and went to the bed once again.

Settling a gentle hand on the top of Sam's head, Flack gently wiped her face with the warm, damp face cloth. Taking his time as he slowly glided it across her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. He tenderly travelled over her eyes and down onto her face. First one side and then the other. Sliding over her cheeks and softly over her ears. Careful not to disturb the breathing tube inserted in her mouth as he used a corner of the cloth to wash her chin and clear away the glistening saliva that had trickled out of the corner of her mouth.

Giving a satisfied nod, he tossed the face cloth onto the bedside table and used the towel to pat dry her face.

"Feel a bit better?" he asked, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose. "How about we do something about your hair?" he suggested, as he pushed her dark locks away from her forehead and the sides of her face. "I know how much it drives you insane when your hair's hanging all over the place. Let's do something about that, okay?"

Dropping the towel on the table as well, Flack picked up the brush in one hand and a section of his wife's hair with the other. Gliding the brush through silken tresses over and over again until they shimmered in the sunlight that streamed into the room. Methodically repeating the process for several minutes. Gently lifting his wife's head away from the pillow in order to work out the knots in the back of her hair. Then settling her back against snow white pillow case once more, set the brush down and picked up the barrettes. Opening first one, and then the other with his teeth, he pushed the hair away from the sides of Sam's face and secured them with the small clips.

"All done," he announced, then kissed both of her cheeks. "All done and all beautiful again. Not that you aren't always beautiful, baby. You've always been the most amazing woman in the world to me. You know that right, Sammie? That despite everything there's never been a time that I didn't find you incredible. That I didn't love you. Even though we've had some hard times I never…there was never a time I didn't love you, baby. And there'll never be a time that I stop loving you."

* * *

A loud knock came to the door, interrupting the tender moment between husband and wife. Flack returned the brush to the top drawer of the bedside table and was busying himself with tucking the blankets securely around his wife's body when the door squeaked open.

"You decent?" Scagnetti's deep voice asked.

"We're good," Flack replied, clearing his throat noisily.

"I come bearing gifts," his one time partner and one of his most dearest and trusted friends said, as the big man slipped into the room, a carry tray of take out coffee in one hand and a paper bag bearing the McDonald's logo in the other.

The smell of various breakfast items quickly filling the room. Flack's stomach rumbled noisily as the scent of greasy food permeated his senses. He couldn't deny that he was hungry. Starving, in fact. But his anxiety was so great and his nerves so shot that the second he put food into his stomach, nausea quickly set in.

"Thought you were working today," Flack said, watching as Scagnetti crossed the room and set the McDonald's bag and carry tray on the window ledge.

"I am," the detective responded. "I was suppose to be there half an hour ago. Gerrard's got me acting as Lou while you're off. I left him a message, told him I'd be late."

Flack simply nodded, then accepted a warm, tight hug from his friend.

"How you holding up, Junior?" Scagnetti asked, a frown on his face as he held the younger man out at arms length.

Flack shrugged. "I'm okay I guess."

"You guess? By that I take it you're doing pretty damn shitty. Let me guess. You're not sleepin' properly, not eatin' properly. You barely leave her side and you haven't breathed in fresh air or been out in the sunlight in two days."

The younger man nodded. "That's pretty much it," he admitted.

"You not taking care of yourself is not doing your kids or Sammie any damn good," Scagnetti told him. "You're going to burn yourself out, Don. You're going to wind up completely exhausted which in turn is going to make you sicker than a dog. And what good will you be to your wife than? What good are you going to be if you're bedridden too?"

"Guess I never thought about it that way," Flack said quietly.

"That's 'cause you're thinking with this…" Scagnetti poked Flack in the chest with his middle finger. "And not with this…" he tapped the younger man lightly on the temple. "And right now? As much as I know it's killing you to see your wife like this, Sammie needs you to think with your heart and _your _head. Understand me?"

Flack nodded.

Scagnetti tapped his friend on both cheeks softly and moved towards the bed. "How you doin' today, Pip Squeak?" he asked Sam, as he stepped up to her side and leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead. "Hope your hubby isn't driving you too insane with his incessant bitching and moaning. And the way he goes on and on about them goddamn Rangers."

Flack smirked and made his way over the easy chair. Dragging it over to the window ledge, he sat down and leaning forward, opened up the bag of McDonald's food, near salivated at the smell that wafted over him. He kept his back to the bed, giving Scagnetti some time with Sam. Listening as the big man spoke in a gentle, comforting voice that until the his friend had visited the night following her surgery, Flack had never even known Scagnetti had possessed.

He helped himself to a hash brown and two breakfast burritos and sat all three items on the window ledge, hearing his friend sniffling noisily over the sound of paper crinkling as Flack unwrapped his breakfast.

"So things are looking up?" Scagnetti asked as he joined his colleague. Wiping his eyes on the backs of his hands as he took a seat on the window ledge.

"Slowly but surely," Flack replied, and grabbing a handful of napkins from the bag, held them out to the detective.

"Thanks…" Scagnetti said, and accepted the tissues. "Slowly but surely is better than nothing," he reasoned, and dabbed at his eyes.

Flack couldn't argue with that.

"I wanted to let you know that the department is setting up a trust fund for Sammie," Scagnetti told him, as he balled up the napkins and tossed them aside before pulling his coffee out of the carry tray and snapping open the tab on the lid. "It was the commissioner's idea. Each station house and the lab has a box you can drop donations into it. They'll keep it running for a while and you'll be able to do whatever you want with the money. Benefits don't cover everything and seeing as you were saying she'd be moved to a re-hab place once she was released, whatever is donated could help off set the cost of that."

Flack nodded, touched by the sentiment. "Make sure you tell everyone I said thanks," he said. "I really appreciate that."

"If there's anything you need Flack, and I mean anything. A shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, financial help even, don't hesitate to ask, okay? There's a lot of people that love you and Sammie and the kids. They'll do anything to help."

"I know," the younger man said, and took a swallow of coffee in hopes of washing down the lump in his throat.

"So I hear Messer is heading to Atlanta for a few days," Scagnetti said, changing the subject and sparing his friend any more discomfort.

"Erica's got some huge conference or something for her job," Flack told him. "And she's got some friends or whatever down there that they're going to stay with. Turn it into a little vacation. Danny didn't want to go, considering everything's that's been going on. Guess he was worried I'd be piss and hurt that he went away while Sammie was like this. Told him she's going to be like this for a long time and that I'd feel better if he did go. I didn't want him disappointing Erica and the kids. Trips been planned for a month now. And just 'cause…" he sighed heavily. "…and just 'cause this happened, he shouldn't back out. There's nothing he can do anyway. All he'd be doing is sitting around just like I am. And there's no use to both of us holding a vigil, you know?"

Scagnetti nodded. "There's really no use for you to be doing it either, Don," he said. "The doctors have everything under control. Sammie's in good hands. Nothing is going to happen to here while you're gone that wouldn't happen while you're here. Just 'cause you walk out the door doesn't mean something terrible is going to happen."

"I can't leave my wife," Flack said. "I'm not leaving her. Not while she's going through this."

"So what are you going to do? Stay here, in this room, in that exact chair for a week? A month? Six months? A year?"

Flack didn't respond.

"I know you want to be here, Don. I know how much you love Sammie. You've been with her for a decade now. You've got four kids together. And I know you want to be with her every step of the way. That you don't want to leave your side. But those kids…those boys and Mikayla need their daddy. They need to see you for at least an hour every day. They've got their mother cooped up in here, they don't need their dad going AWOL on him."

"Gus and Adam are staying at the house," Flack said. "They're looking after the kids."

"Gus isn't their mother and Adam isn't their father," Scagnetti retorted. "Their mommy can't be with them, but the least you can do is see them and have some fun with them. They're scared, Flack. They're scared shitless over what happened to Sammie. They're worried that she's going to die. And they're worried that they're going to lose you too. They need to be with you. And you need to be with them."

"I can't just leave her here," Flack argued. "I can't just leave her here alone."

"She's not alone. There's tons of nurses and doctors around."

"I'm her husband, Tony. She needs me here."

"Don…" Scagnetti took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She doesn't even know you're here. She doesn't know you've done nothing but pace this room and park your ass in that chair. But you know what she'd be doing if she did know? If she knew that you'd be shutting yourself away from your kids like this? She'd be royally kicking your ass and you damn well know it."

Flack sighed and picked at the hash brown in his hand.

"What is going out for an hour going to do?" his friend asked. "What is going home to see your kids and hugging them and comforting them and telling them you love them going to do? Nothing will happen to Sammie."

"I just…"

"You just what? You'd feel better not leaving her alone?"

Flack nodded.

"Then you know what? You call someone. You call me or you call Adam or Gus. You call one of us and you tell us you need to get out of here for a bit and one of us will drop everything and be right over. You know that, Flack. You know that I'd do anything for you. I'll come over around lunch time and I'll sit with Sammie while you go home and see your kids. And don't even think about saying no either. You're going to do it. If I have to kick your ass on out the door. Understand me?"

The younger man gave another nod.

"I'll take care of you, Don. And Sam," Scagnetti assured him. "You've got nothing to worry about, okay?"

"Okay," Flack agreed, his voice choked with emotion.

"I'm not letting you do this to yourself. To Sammie and those kids," his friend said. "I'm not going to sit here and let you fall apart. Look at you. When's the last time you took a goddamn shower and shaved? When's the last time you got a decent meal and at least a few hours sleep? Not since right before Sammie got shot. So don't even try and bullshit me, Junior."

"I guess I just don't care about that kind of stuff right now," Flack admitted.

"You don't care about what kind of stuff?" Scagnetti snapped. "You don't care about yourself? Well that's a fine how do you fucking do, isn't it? How the hell are you suppose to take care of your wife when you can't even goddamn well take care of yourself?"

Flack didn't answer.

"This shit ends today," the older man ordered. "You hear me? There's no way in hell I'm standing around and watching you fall apart. And there's no way in hell that I'm letting those kids…the kids you made with Sammie…fall by the wayside and deal with their pain and their worries without you. They need their dad. They need to hear you tell them that things are going to be okay. That they're going to be okay. That they're safe and no bad guys are going to get them. They need their daddy's hugs. And you're totally disrespecting them, and Sam, by shutting them out."

"I never meant to…"

"I know you never meant to," Scagnetti interjected. "I know you're dealing with some heavy duty shit, Don. I don't envy you one bit. But you're closing out your family. And they just don't need you. You need them just as goddamn much."

Flack sniffled noisily and looked out the window.

"I know it fucking hurts like a bitch, Don. And I know that part of you wishes you were out there catching the sorry SOB that did this. But you need to get your shit together. For yourself. And for your wife and your kids? Understand me? Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," the younger man replied, and sipped at his coffee.

"Alright…now eat your goddamn breakfast and then get in that fucking bathroom and clean yourself up. Take a shower, shave. Make yourself feel human again."

A smirk played on Flack's mouth. "Yes, dad," he quipped.

"I bloody well wish I was your father. 'Cause you obviously never got your behind whipped enough when you were younger. You're lucky I don't put your fat ass over my knee and smack the shit out of you right now."

Flack couldn't hold back a chuckle. "You'd probably enjoy that too much," he teased.

"Let's not get into a discussion about whose the kinkier out of us, okay?" Scagnetti laughed. "'Cause we both know you'd lose, Junior."

The younger detective rolled his eyes.

A comfortable, companionable silence fell on the room. Each man lost in their own thoughts as they sipped coffee and munched on their breakfast.

"Thanks Tony," Flack spoke after several minutes, his voice barely a whisper, tears pooling in his eyes.

Scagnetti gave a small smile and leaning forward, reached out to tousle his friend's hair.

"Don't mention it," he said.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate all of the wonderful support and words can't express how much all of you mean to me! Even all of you lurkers!**

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